Easter Extras on Science and Resurrection

Just finished a piece on celebrating Easter in light of both COVID-19 and science... As often happens, I wasn’t able to include everything—even if I loved the insights—and so here they are, collected as “Easter Extras.”

William Stoeger: Cosmic Death is Certain
The late William Stoeger, world-class astronomer at Vatican Observatory, noted several possibilities exist for our terrestrial demise: destruction of earth by asteroids and comets, the decline of our sun, and the explosion of a nearby supernova in an article with the daunting title, “Scientific Accounts of Ultimate Catastrophes in Our Life-Bearing Universe.” As Christians we know that our own death is guaranteed, and that is why we hope for resurrection. Even more we are promised that God will not only raise us up at the last day (Job 19:25-27, John 11:24), but that God will create a new heavens and a new earth (Revelation 21).

Walter Kim: Is the Resurrection of Christ Unscientific?
A questioner at an American Association for the Advancement of Science panel on evangelicals and science presented a challenged: the center of the Christian faith, the Resurrection of Jesus, is fundamentally unscientific. And National Association of Evangelicals President Walter Kim answered this way:

“To say that the laws of nature were suspended at a particular moment is not to deny the laws of nature. The actual predication of a miracle is dependent upon a worldview that presumes regularity, scientific exactitude. So, Jesus' resurrection from the dead wouldn't actually be noticeable if people were popping from the dead.” NAE President Walter Kim

In fact, Kim continued, the Christian worldview necessarily assumes principles that are necessary for science, he continued.

“The very fact of a miracle is predicated on the notion that the Christian worldview affirms principles that are essential to scientific endeavor, [such as the] regularity of the laws of nature [and the] predictability of the laws of nature. And the fact that Jesus' resurrection contravened those things is in fact predicated on a wider worldview.... But it does introduce the fact that the laws of nature are not the only aspect of reality.” Walter Kim

The God who made this world and its natural laws can do greater things than we see in this world now. Because our God is not bound by this world.

John Polkinghorne: Easter and Irruption of Quantum Theory
There may be some analogies to the radical newness of the Easter message, or perhaps hints. 

John Polkinghorne has stated that the irruption of this new idea of Jesus’s Resurrection may in fact be like the experience in the 1920s with the newness, and oddness of quantum theory. After describing how the New Testament writers came to terms with Christ as the risen Lord while maintaining a commitment to Jewish monotheism, he writes,

“There are times in the history of science—the period 1900-26, in which quantum theory came to birth, would be one of them—in which strange and perplexing experience heralds a radical revision of previously cherished beliefs.” Physicist and Theologian John Polkinghorne

Susan Howatch on the Nature of our Resurrected Bodies
As a pastor, I knew that church members remain unsatisfied with only generalities. In fact, when I have taught this material in adult education classes, the specifics captivate the students. In fact, I have also been asked the practical questions: “What exactly will be the nature of my resurrected body? Will my father recognize me in heaven? On other hand, can I cremate my grandmother? What will my disabled child look like?” 

The critical element in our resurrected bodies as the New Testament understand it, is not our flesh and bones. It is our concrete selves. Our resurrected bodies will be us, but freed from the defects inherent in a fallen world. And we will recognize one another in heaven. Who and what we are on earth represents the concrete self that God created. The body-soul unity that now comprises us will dissolve at death, but our individuality—the “pattern of information” is another metaphor—will be instantly recreated at death into the resurrected body. Interestingly, Gregory of Nyssa, in the 5th century, believed that the soul watches over the atoms and reconstitutes them at our resurrection.

The English writer, Susan Howatch—who made her own headlines by funding a chair at

Oxford in science and theology—described this teaching in her novel, The Wonder Worker. 

She presents a dialogue on the bodily resurrection between a confused agnostic, Alice, and an Anglican priest, Nicholas Darrow, using the contemporary analogy of information. Alice’s aunt has just been cremated.

“But if Aunt’s now ashes, how can one talk of a resurrection of the body?”
“‘Body’ in that context is probably a code-word for the whole person. When we say ‘anybody’ or ‘everybody’ or ‘somebody’ we’re not talking about flesh and blood—we’re referring to the complex pattern of information which the medium of flesh and blood expresses.”
I struggled to wrap my mind around this. “So you’re saying that flesh and blood are more or less irrelevant?”
“No, not irrelevant. Our bodies have a big impact on our development as people—they constitute to the pattern of information, and in fact we wouldn’t be people without them. But once we’re no longer confined by space and time the flesh and blood become superfluous and the pattern can be downloaded elsewhere… Do you know anything about computers?” “No.”
“Okay, forget that, think of Michelangelo instead. In the Sistine Chapel he expressed a vision by creating, through the medium of paint, patterns of colour. The paint is of vital importance but in the end it’s the pattern that matters and the pattern which can be reproduced in another medium such as a book or film.”

That indeed may be a place to leave this post—with a vision for our personal Easter hope. Especially in a COVID-19 world.

The Dialogue on the Soul Continues

(I return to the dialogue on the soul with my philosopher friend from the post two weeks ago...)

Me: Wow, it seems like this conversation has gone on for awhile, but we're still strolling around Oxford! And since we're now in the library at Magdalen College looking at the "New Building," let me pause for a moment. I'll lay out four steps on how the concept of the soul developed in Christian thought, especially as we think about this in light of contemporary science, which has a great deal of trouble with a disembodied soul.

Philosopher: That sounds good. At least I'll be clear on what I'm disagreeing with!

Me: First of all, the Hebrew Bible (for example, Genesis 1-2) presents the human being as a unity of body-soul Generally, this is referred to as a “psychosomatic unity.” The natural state of human beings is thus to be in this unity. (By the way, some see a tripartite breakdown of body-soul-spirit, but I think they're mistaken, and the difference isn't essential to our conversation. It's the unity that's critical.)

Philosopher: I already see some issues, but I'll let you keep going and simply pose questions from time to time...

Me: Second, As the Jewish people became more interested in eschatology and thus resurrection, the teaching of the resurrection of the body became increasingly important. This is a bit more complicated because it implies a correlate A. Jewish psychosomatic unity needs to be distinguished from the immortality of the soul of some Hellenistic thought, most notably in Plato (but not restricted to him), where the soul fits more or less uncomfortably in the body, and the point is to release the soul from its prison. Nonetheless, I do admit Plato's dualism--and the many other similar forms-- is the perspective taken by many Christians today.

Philosopher: This is a dumpster fire--not just your ideas, but a real dumpster fire right

there. At  any rate, I think you're blaming a lot on Plato. Isn't he just a representative of that which has been believed everywhere, always and by all?

Me: There you go, you sly, sagacious, philosophical dog, throwing in an allusion to Vincent of Lerins! At any rate, I'll give a direct answer to your question: No. And this brings me to correlate B: There is no widespread unity of perspectives on soul in religions and philosophies throughout history. Something close to substance dualism—where there are two entities, “body” and “soul” that together make the human being, but that are, in principle separable—may be the majority opinion, but I’m not sure how one could know, and it is by no means universal. For example, Hindu substance dualism holds that the soul transmigrates through different lives into the different bodies (not all of which are human). In contrast, Siddartha Gautama (aka the Buddha) and many Buddhists do not hold this view.

Philosopher: Before we go any further, I have to ask you for a definition. We philosophers don't travel very far without defining terms.

Me: We have indeed now traveled to a pub that has the same name as one of my favorite taprooms in my hometown, Chico! How cool is that! Let's grab a pint and on the way inside, I'll offer a common definition of substance dualism: 

A form of dualism in the philosophy of mind that states two types of substances exist: the mental and the physical. It is a fundamentally ontological position: it states that the mental and the physical are separate substances with independent existence. (adapted from  http://www.philosophy-index.com). 

How does that work? I'm taking this to represent a commonly held view. In it, I want to emphasize the independence and separability of these two substances. This is inconsistent with biblical teaching and most Christian theology throughout history, despite whatever else you philosophers might conjure up. (Did I really just say that?)

Philosopher: That's a great idea--the pint that is--but I'm not sure why substance dualism is incompatible with Christianity.

Me: I arrive then at my third step: As the Christian church developed its ideas of the resurrection of the body after the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. It distinguished itself in some ways from a Jewish conception in which once the Messiah arrived the general resurrection would occur tout de suite. Christians realized that there was some intermediate state in between our death and the general resurrection, but that this was unnatural for human beings. This would be an unclothed soul (2 Corinthians 5). The texts are notably sketchy on what this is and point toward the mystery of what is to be revealed (1 Corinthians 15). Jesus’s resurrected body, however, allowed him to eat (Luke 24), which contradicts an assertion that he was pure spirit after the Resurrection.

Philosopher: Hmm... I can see we need to take some time to work out these ideas. But we've got time and wow, we've also got a really nice view! It's almost like we were transported from the Handle Bar, which has no view, to a rooftop bar on High Street. 

Me: You're right--it's almost like a foretaste of God will bring, in the twinkling of an eye, something unexpected, a whole new, higher view. At any rate, let me close with this, step four: Our ultimate hope is to be fully restored and unified human beings that are a unity of both bodies and souls. In the new heavens and the new earth described in Revelation 21, there are many activities that imply and require a body. That's what we long for: a new body-soul for the new creation.

Philosopher: I definitely see that there are several distinctions left to be drawn and a number of points of disagreement. No worries. I hope this is some ways a literal foretaste of our future hope and that our resurrected bodies will allow us to share a pint together in the life to come.

Me: We can definitely toast to that!

Jesus, Death, and Our Life on Earth

“Men of Galilee,” they said, “why do you stand here looking into the sky?" Acts 1:11 

As a faculty member in a department of religious studies, I read a lot of essays these days about the nature of religion generally and even about Christianity specifically. One of the most common misconceptions is that the reason people believe in a religion is that they want an answer to what happens after they die, but that modern science has invalidated that belief.

            

This idea might be accurate for the leaders of ancient Egypt, who seemed obsessed with how they would carry on in the afterlife. But that’s not the only story: if you were to look at many religions of the world—take Confucianism, for example—interest in life after death is about as low a priority as I can imagine. It wasn’t even true for almost all of the Old Testament, which doesn’t have much about life after death. When Jesus comes on the scene in the first century, reason the Sadducees didn’t believe in the resurrection of the dead is that they couldn’t locate it in the Scriptures. Even more, it strikes me as false, at least for Jesus and Paul, who are much more interested in how we live today in light of the resurrection.

            

Jesus, and the Bible generally, just don’t seem that interested in answering every question about the afterlife. As I’ve heard the New Testament scholar N.T. Wright repeat on a number of occasions, we might say, “I’m so glad I get to go to heaven.”

            

But Jesus’s take is this: “Yes, I have been raised from the dead. There is victory over death, and you can be assured I’ll take you there. For now, get to work.”

(Even) More on the Way to Heaven and Hell

The Resurrection of the Body

A few years back, I saw a skit on Saturday Night Live in which a couple of cynical, chatty, and flip urbane New Yorkers interview contemporary personalities. In one segment, these interviewers questioned the guy who displays “John 3:16” at football games as a witness to the Gospel. Why does he do it? He responded clearly, “So that others may believe in Jesus Christ and have eternal life.” After this stark reply, one interviewer queried the other:

            “Do you believe we’ll live forever?”

            “I hope not in this body!”

They both exploded in catty laughter, either masking deeper anxiety or revealing a shocking shallowness. In any event, that was the end of the conversation! A topic like everlasting life treated with such mocking! The problem for them was—with sagging jaw lines and increasing flab—do we really want this body to take us into eternity? Obviously they misread the intention of eternal life. The Christian church does not teach that we will live forever in this earthly body. What then do the Christians mean by the doctrine of the resurrection of the body?

            
The Apostle Paul concerns himself throughout his writings with the persistent question of suffering (a form of theodicy). Why must God’s people suffer when we are following God’s will for us in Jesus Christ? Romans 8:18-25 provides the most extensive responses. He begins by expanding the scope to the entire creation, “the universe” in contemporary terms. (Paul uses creation three times in verses 19, 20, and 21.) The people of God groan, with all non-human creation, because our destinies have been wrapped together. But suffering does not have the final word. A cry arises in us as a sign of something more. We hope for glory. For Paul, our hope does not represent vain presumption, but secure expectation. That long-expected, glorious day will also dry all tears.

            
What does Paul say specifically about the new creation? He affirms that there will be glory (verses 18 and 21)—a word for the divine Presence in fullness, in this case unveiled in Christ’s final coming. Paul looks to freedom (verse 21) from decay—that the fallenness of the world will cease. And so we look forward with hope (verses 24-25), which is the theological virtue that corresponds to God’s future, to the final triumph of the cosmic comedy. Finally, God’s Spirit represents the first payment of this new creation (verse 23)—there will be the fullness of joy of which we now only know in part.

            
Paul contemplates the resurrection of the body most extensively in 1 Corinthians 15:35-44. Paul, as many after him, struggles with an apt analogy for resurrection. His conclusion offers profound hope. Eugene Peterson’s fresh contemporary paraphrase, The Message, gives it directness:

Some skeptic is sure to ask, “Show me how resurrection works. Give me a diagram; draw me a picture. What does this ‘resurrection body’ look like?” If you look at this question closely, you’ll realize how absurd it is. There are no diagrams for this kind of thing. We do have a parallel experience in gardening. You plant a “dead” seed; soon there is a flourishing plant. There is no visual likeness between seed and plant. You could never guess what a tomato would look like by looking at a tomato seed. What we plant in the soil and what grows out of it don’t look anything alike. The dead body what we bury in the ground and the resurrection body that comes from it will be dramatically different. 

You will notice that the variety of bodies is stunning. Just as there are different kinds of seeds, there are different kinds of bodies—humans, animals, birds, fish—each unprecedented in its form. You get a hint at the diversity of resurrection glory by looking at the diversity of bodies not only on earth but in the skies—sun, moon, stars—all varieties of beauty and brightness. And we’re looking at pre-resurrection “seeds”—who can imagine what the resurrection “plants” will be like!      

This image of planting a dead seed and raising a live plant is a mere sketch at best, but perhaps it will help in approaching the mystery of the resurrection body—but only in you keep in  mind that when we’re raised, we’re raised for good, alive forever! The corpse that’s planted is no beauty, but when it’s raised, it’s glorious. Put in the ground weak, it comes up powerful. The seed sown is natural; the seed grown is supernatural—same seed, same body, but what a difference from when it goes down in physical mortality to when it is raised up in spiritual immortality!

            Certainly, every detail about our resurrection is not fully laid out. Paul is trying to understand and express the depths of the God. At several other places—in 1 Corinthians 2:9-10, for example—he simply admits the limits of his understanding:

But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard,

Nor human heart conceived,

What God has prepared for those who love him”—

These things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything even the depths of God.

Overall, Paul sketches the great promises, but leaves the details open.

            
But as a pastor, I know that church members remain unsatisfied with only generalities. In fact, when I have taught this material in adult education classes, the specifics captivate the students. Once I presented the idea that the immortality of the soul was not a truly Christian teaching, but a loan from Plato who taught that the body was mortal and decaying and the soul inherently immortal. Once we died, Plato asserted, we thankfully freed ourselves from the shackles of the body. I countered that Hebrew thought conceives of human beings as a unity of body and soul. The class was not pleased to hear this denial of our soul’s immortality. They did not want to taste death. (It reminded me of Woody Allen’s quip, “I don’t want to achieve immortality through art. I want to achieve it by not dying.”) I had to moderate my point by saying, when we are raised, it is God who does the work, not because of something intrinsic to our nature.

            
And then I have also been asked the practical questions: What exactly will be the nature of my resurrected body? Will my father recognize me in heaven? On other hand, can I cremate my grandmother? What will my disabled child look like? From the sketch presented so far, the critical element in our resurrected bodies as the New Testament understand it, is not our flesh and bones. It is our concrete selves. Generally, Eastern religious traditions, such as Buddhism and Hinduism, describe a state in which our individuality disappears. Buddha talked about the transition from one life to the next (remember we keep migrating from one body to the next in Eastern thought) as a flame being passed from one candle to another. Alternatively, we become a drop of water in the ocean of Being. Instead the Christian faith believes that God will raise us as concrete individuals, who altogether comprise God’s people. Ultimately, because it is God’s work, we can cremate or bury because our resurrection does not depend on flesh and bones. (Specifically, how else can we understand God’s promise of a perfected, whole body in the resurrection for a victim of a violent dismemberment?) Our resurrected bodies will be us, but freed from the defects inherent in a fallen world.

            
We will recognize one another in heaven. Who and what we are on earth represents the concrete self that God created. The body-soul unity that now comprises us will dissolve at death, but our individuality—the “pattern of information” is another metaphor—will be instantly recreated at death into the resurrected body. The English writer, Susan Howatch—who made her own headlines by funding a chair at Oxford in science and theology—describes this doctrine in her novel, The Wonder Worker. She presents a dialogue on the bodily resurrection between a confused agnostic, Alice, and an Anglican priest, Nicholas Darrow, using the contemporary analogy of information. Alice’s aunt has just been cremated.

“But if Aunt’s now ashes, how can one talk of a resurrection of the body?”

      
“‘Body’ in that context is probably a code-word for the whole person. When we say ‘anybody’ or ‘everybody’ or ‘somebody’ we’re not talking about flesh and blood—we’re referring to the complex pattern of information which the medium of flesh and blood expresses.”

      
I struggled to wrap my mind around this. “So you’re saying that flesh and blood are more or less irrelevant?”

      
“No, not irrelevant. Our bodies have a big impact on our development as people—they constitute to the pattern of information, and in fact we wouldn’t be people without them. But once we’re no longer confined by space and time the flesh and blood become superfluous and the pattern can be downloaded elsewhere… Do you know anything about computers?”
      


“No.”
      

“Okay, forget that, think of Michelangelo instead. In the Sistine Chapel he expressed a vision by creating, through the medium of paint, patterns of colour. The paint is of vital importance but in the end it’s the pattern that matters and the pattern which can be reproduced in another medium such as a book or film.”