Creation: Chapter 1

Let There Be Light



We read in the Genesis story that when God made heaven and earth, the earth was without form and void, with darkness over the face of the abyss, and a mighty wind that swept over the surface of the waters. God said, "Let there be light", and there was light; and God saw that the light was good. Though the scientific understanding of the origin of the universe far exceeds this allegorical account of creation, the insight contained in it, that of a transcendent creator who wills a creation into existence by the power of his mighty word, is eternally valid. It is estimated that the universe is about 15,000 million years old, and that it came into creation following a mighty explosion in which the elementary particles of matter evolved out of pure energy. These particles - the gluon, the quark (which together constitute the proton) and the electron - are believed to be the building-blocks of the universe, the microcosm, as it were, reflected in the macrocosm of the entire creation. This "big bang" theory of the origin of the universe is now accepted as the most likely mechanism of creation by cosmologists, since re-echoing background cosmic radiation still persists as an aftermath of the great explosive event.

But what existed before this dramatic event? To the person aware of spiritual reality, the answer is plain: God alone, the transcendent Creator, for in the Deity, whose nature cannot be delineated but whose emergent qualities lie revealed in his intrinsic energies that are beyond creation while the very foundation of it, there is a source of unceasing creativity. The uncreated is the ceaseless creator of the universe. At a certain juncture he willed the universe, but where could space be found since the divine presence is infinite as well as eternal? It is traditionally accepted that God creates form out of nothing (2 Maccabees 7:28 is a classic statement of this theme). It is of interest that the speculation of gnostics was the first to penetrate the mechanism. Thus the sixteenth-century messianic Kabbalist Isaac Luria explained the existence of the universe in terms of a willed contraction, or shrinkage (the Hebrew word is tsim-tsum), in God, who thereby afforded space of himself for the creation of something independent of him while being simultaneously of his very essence. Gershom G. Scholem in his magisterial work Major Trends in Jewish Mysticism finds a similar explanation of the universe in the writing of the second-century gnostic thinker Basilides and in the gnostic Book of the Great Logos, preserved through Coptic translation. Both Luria and the gnostics believed that God had left an essence of himself in the space he provided for independent creation to occur, comparable with the residue of oil or wine in a bottle after the contents have been poured out, or the fragrance of a sweetly smelling unguent remaining in a bowl emptied with the greatest possible care. Whatever may be the mechanism, the courtesy and loving kindness of a Creator who fashions unceasingly while providing his creatures with a freedom to explore the universe, tracing their own paths through its complexity, is the very foundation of the process of evolution. From the elementary particles of physics are derived the more complex elements and compounds of chemistry and ultimately the spiralling nucleic acids that are the very backbone of life itself. How this process of steady evolution progressed through the aeons is still not understood, but in due course living creatures arose that could respond to the milieu around no less than within themselves. Eventually came the great moment when they could co-operate purposefully in the continuous work of the Deity. This was the time of human emergence.

Creation in form includes within its process both the eternal order of God and the built-in capacity for disorder that is the basis of evolution. Just as a well-mannered youth, schooled in the edifying environment of his home, has in due course to reach beyond the mantle of imposed discipline and learn to mix in a far less scrupulous world, so all that lives is bound to compete for its existence in a domain where the fittest alone survive. If the individual fails to adapt he will inevitably perish, but if he follows the blind rapacity of the masses, he is liable to be crushed to death. It is his ability to stand out by virtue of his intrinsic integrity that will ensure not only his survival but also his contribution to the welfare of the whole community; indeed, life flourishes most effectively in the type of circumstance where there is underlying order but of such an openness that the individual may actualize his own unique potentiality in freedom while in the context of the whole community. If he is outstanding in some quality he may disturb the current order. But in due course this change becomes the pattern of a higher order, in turn challenged by fresh insights.

The formless void that followed the withdrawal of the divine presence is traditionally called chaos. The concept has been broadened to embrace the great deep of primordial matter, which in terms of modern physics is composed of the elementary particles that were created when the uncreated energies of God exploded at his command to form the foundation of the universe. Nowadays we associate chaos with a state of utter confusion wrought by climatic catastrophe or human lawlessness, but in fact the original mass of primordial matter was orderly in arrangement and of immense fecundity: as the Genesis narrative puts it, "God saw that it was good". Our own planet is a mere speck in the vastness of a universe whose span, measured in light years, is beyond the grasp of most of us.

And yet the universe itself is only part of an infinitely more extensive realm of non-material essence in which pure thought is aligned to psychic entities and spiritual consciousness. St Paul in Ephesians 6:10-12 speaks about life's great battle being not so much against human agencies as cosmic powers, the authorities and potentates of this realm's dark recesses, the superhuman forces of evil in the heavens. This dramatic warning presents the forbidding side of the picture, but it is balanced by an array of beneficent forces allied to the development of life and the growth of the person. These include the noetic, or intellectual, realm of mathematical truth, the moral dimension of justice and compassion that enables civilization to proceed, and the vast communion of unseen agents that influence the conduct of the universe. These include the angelic hierarchy and the souls of the departed - and possibly those coming into incarnation if we may consider spiritual pre-existence as a serious option. There is also the nebulous field of psychical phenomena whose study defines the controversial discipline of parapsychology.

When the universe came into being, time commenced and space showed itself; in the time / space universe, growth takes place and the rational creature thrives under its discipline. By contrast the vast intermediate, non-material realm lies outside the limits of time and space. It existed before the creation as described in the Bible. It therefore transcends the time and space that define our experience of earthly life. Nevertheless, this mental/psychic/spiritual realm, determining so much of our day-to-day response to the world we inhabit, is not to be identified with the Deity. He created both heaven and earth, heaven in this context being identified with the non-material spiritual world on whose action the well-being of the universe depends. When then was this intermediate spiritual realm created? To this question a tangible answer seems well nigh impossible, since time, as we know it, does not enter the matter. Nevertheless, the non-material realm presumably had its own coming to birth into universal reality where it apparently fully reflected the mind of the Creator. The existence of the dark forces in its midst suggests a fall before the birth of the universe, but more we cannot say. The spiritual world gives form to the material creation, while the universe brings the spiritual dimension into tangible action.

Another mystery is the cause of creation. Why did God perform the stupendous feat of making the universe? Inasmuch as the Deity is complete in itself, it requires nothing external for its own integrity. The trinitarian scheme of orthodox Christianity asserts a complete loving relationship between Father and Son with the Holy Spirit as a mediator of that love. Therefore the three hypostases, or persons of the Godhead, are in a state of eternal perfection of being, both individually and together. However, the proof of love is its desire to share its riches; as long as a relationship is withdrawn and secreted, however strong the devotion of the parties to one another, the operating force is a fear of separation. Love that is real never counts the cost, for the Spirit of God rules the heart and will never be at peace until it has brought all creatures home. Thus St Paul can see that suffering itself strengthens us in the hope of the divine splendour that is to be ours. He goes on to reflect that such a hope is no mockery, because God's love has flooded our inmost heart through the Holy Spirit he has given us (Romans 5:3-5).

I doubt whether anyone who has not suffered grievously can know the exultation of true love as opposed to well-meaning goodwill. We tend to be most generous when the things we prize most are no longer ours; having nothing material we are aware of our unadorned integrity, and this we can give freely to others. The more we give, the greater is the inner radiance. This radiance is the Holy Spirit within us, and when God creates the cosmos (this is the universe and the intermediate mental/psychic/spiritual realm), it is a manifestation of his outpouring love. A loving human family will have little difficulty in bringing a stranger home. The hazards inherent in such a foolhardy venture will scarcely enter their minds, whereas a more practically orientated group will stare the possible consequences full in the face and act with sensible circumspection. And who can blame them? The introduction of an unknown member may so easily disrupt the present equilibrium and create havoc. The lesson is never to embark on such an enterprise except in a spirit of sacrifice. The consequences are the only reward: the more that is anticipated, the greater is the disappointment liable to be. But when there is love, the less is any reward of consequence. God created the cosmos because of his outflowing love. Another way of stating this is to affirm the essential divine creativity, for such creativity is always loving. However, the creativity bestowed on the rational creature, divine in origin as it is, tends to be soiled by covetousness and so may reveal a destructive tendency.

Love takes infinite pains in all it creates, but is able to release the creature to carry on its own life. It therefore follows that innumerable variations of form may follow the divine creative act. Some experiments will be successful while others may fail to meet the exigencies of the present moment and be squeezed out of existence. Once creation has been effected, the creature's free will determines its fate. God does not simply step in to put everything in order. He is not a deus ex machina, an external power that comes in the nick of time to solve a difficulty and put everything right. He is also not a demiurge, merely a creator of the universe whose activity is limited to it. On the contrary, he is outside the created order but is unceasingly concerned in its welfare. His energies sustain the universe, and are at the disposal of his creatures in their toil of survival, procreation and participation in the maintenance of the world. The human, with his rational capacity, has a special privilege and responsibility in this participation, but everything that lives has its own part to play in sustaining the natural environment.

Creation can never cease except by divine decree. If this were to occur, it would imply a cessation of God's love. The consummation of all things probably will see an end of the material creation, but then a new world will surely unfold before the Creator's loving care. The vision contained in Revelation 21 gives some indication of what this would mean.

The creation narrative of Genesis 1 and 2 gives a somewhat impersonal picture of God's activity. He is, in fact, intimately involved in his handiwork, like an artist. But whereas an artist can erase his production, God, by his gift of free will, has abdicated his immediate control over his creation, which is henceforth at liberty to use the divine gift, the power of the Holy Spirit, according to its own desires. When the full implication of this dawns on us, it becomes less intolerable that there should be disasters involving vast planetary systems no less than disruptions of our own environment: the whole created universe groans in all its parts as if in the pangs of childbirth (Romans 8:22). It has to attain its own form, to work out its own salvation "in fear and trembling" (Philippians 2:12), and here the human component can play a very important part, at least in our corner of the world. The universe is, of course, very much more than our small planet, and evolution involves the entire universe and not only our tiny part in it. We inhabit a geologically and climatically unstable planet, growing in the creative process, and we cannot assume that all will automatically go well with us. There are, for example, areas of the earth that are especially liable to earthquakes, volcanoes, floods, hurricanes, or droughts. It might be that part of the human contribution to the world lies not only in ameliorating these disasters by modern scientific methods but also in calming the elements by living peacefully and praying regularly. It is not outside the bounds of possibility that adverse human emotions have a climatic effect, while a calming of the human might leave its impress on the elements. Certainly prayer often settles adverse weather conditions. There are mysteries in creation more accessible to psychic communion than intellectual analysis, remembering always that both modes lie within the scope of the human spirit.

According to the Genesis story everything God created was fundamentally good. Modern theoretical physics stresses both the order inherent in the disposition of the elementary particles from which the universe was fashioned and their simultaneous unpredictability. The random nature of particle movement is part of the creative process whereby new combinations may constantly occur that alter the very rhythm of existence, while at the same time stabilizing it for the new demands that are to be made on it. Everything God created may well have been good, but there seems to be room for improvement; in other words, perfection is of a different order to goodness. The mechanism of the creative process is so well grounded that room is made for new possibilities to emerge in the course of its development. The end of the process is the spiritualization of our secular endeavour, so that the universe and the intermediate mental/psychic/spiritual realm can function as a composite whole. Therefore the goodness of creation that the biblical writer declares may be identified with the most favourable function a particular creature subserves at a given time. But there is always room for growth.

In his essay on Compensation R. W. Emerson made an important observation: there is a crack in everything God has made. To the fanatical moralist this crack is a flaw in construction that leads inevitably to the creature's destruction unless he is "saved" by God. However, to the rather less dogmatic experimentalist, whether in scientific research or in practical living, the crack is a means of growth, a way of expansion of the personality to new experiences. The very imperfection of the natural order provides the key to a more developed understanding of reality than the surface judgements so often given by those of little self-knowledge. He who has suffered long may be able to bear another's pain, whereas the untested individual will scarcely be able to comprehend his neighbour's difficulties, let alone give any intimate help. It may well be a pathetic fallacy to attribute such an understanding to the other animals, but it is certainly true of creation's masterpiece, the human who has been given charge over the remainder of the world's created order. In the creation story Adam and Eve live in such perfect harmony with the world around them that they have little self-awareness or thanks for the bliss that encompasses them. They are comparable to unborn children in the safety of the mother's womb or small children enjoying the undisturbed happiness of a loving family. Only when they are sent out into the more rigorous world of school and later competitive employment do they discover deeper aspects of themselves. They yearn for the past security while steeling themselves against the constant test of adverse circumstances that is the fruit of independence. Soon the onward thrust all but obliterates the memories of happy childhood. The final test is the preservation of childlike innocence in the adult world of fierce endeavour and dark treachery.

In the Genesis story Adam and Eve were unable to contain their yearning for power, and they excluded themselves from a loving relationship with the Creator. Nevertheless, the hard journey ahead saw the beginning of self-awareness and growth into adulthood. It is the perennial journey of the creature to independent progress in the world that God in his infinite love has prepared for him, his rejection of the divine grace, and his suffering. Painful as it may be for creature and God alike, it is the only way forward to proficiency. We please God most when we depend least on his help. In that state of true maturity we are in a relationship with him such that we work together as partners in the constant maintenance of the world. We are also able to apply new concepts that come to us from the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. In this way we can effect new developments that play their part in changing the face of the world: stasis is death, whereas progress is life. In the Parable of the Prodigal Son, the father shows great love in letting his headstrong son go, well aware as he must have been of the mess in front of him, and suffering all the pains of his ungrateful child. This love is as profound as the welcome he gave to the scapegrace when he returned destitute and humiliated. Love and joy come from a common source, and in their midst there is peace. None of these three depend on good fortune; they are manifestations of the eternal presence of God. Indeed, they render worldly prosperity trivial. It is in this frame of mind that creation proceeds most productively, for then there is no emotional conflict to interfere with the flow of the Holy Spirit, who is the giver of all inspiration.

When there is emotional disharmony the spiritual flow is impeded, if not stopped, but even in such an extremity there may be a blessing. When the flow is later restored after emotional equilibrium is attained, the experience of pain may open up previously unexplored paths of speculation. In this way an environment may be provided for a new creation to emerge. Nothing is ultimately lost in the creative love of God. The entire body of the universe is capable of resurrection, and it is the human privilege to promote this great undertaking. I believe that when God created the universe, the inhabitants of the mental/psychic/spiritual realm gave a loud cheer. One remembers God's self-disclosure to Job (38:4-7), "Where were you when I laid the earth's foundations? Tell me, if you know and understand. Who settled its dimensions? Surely you should know. Who stretched his measuring-line over it? On what do its supporting pillars rest? Who set its corner-stone in place, when the morning stars sung together and all the sons of God shouted aloud?" Whenever the creative ray of divine light touches the void and brings form out of emptiness, a paean of joy sounds forth from the cosmos. Not only do the heavenly hosts proclaim their praise, but even the elementary particles, by their very existence, add their share to the general rejoicing. And when life itself shows forth, the acclaim is tumultuous.

The creation was God's great experiment. He himself did not and indeed does not know the final result. Free will cannot be tempered by divine intervention and still remain free. Nevertheless, God is in ultimate control since the cosmos is his creation. His love, which brought forth the world out of nothing but his own sacrifice, will never fail. Despite the independence of his creatures, from the random movements of elementary particles and their accompanying forces to the vicissitudes of living forms in a universe that is constantly changing as it undergoes further creation, he retains over-all charge of phenomena. The means of control are the laws by which the universe is governed. On the physical level there are, for instance, the law of gravity and the laws of thermodynamics. Even more elementary and subtle is the theory of relativity which renders meaningless the concept of an instantaneously defined state of the world, while quantum mechanics requires that the state is in any case not observable. The laws of life require the organism's protection and nutrition as well as the needs of procreation, while the laws contingent on human relationships embrace a code of morality summed up in the Judeo-Christian Ten Commandments and similar injunctions contained in the world's other great religious traditions. Only on the foundation of law can life progress and its potentialities unfold. Variation can be held in creative tension with the established norm, while progress is balanced with tradition. Finally, it is not inconceivable that biological laws can themselves evolve. Nothing in the universe is static, and an advanced creature working in collaboration with the Holy Spirit might conceivably influence the form of life as we at present know it.

We considered the concept of chaos earlier on as the fundamental mass of primordial matter from which the universe was fashioned and also a state of utter confusion. Currently a new science has been created which is called "chaos theory". It examines the random nature of many natural processes that give the superficial impression of order; yet underneath, a more mysterious type of order prevails. It does indeed appear as if the accepted laws of nature are statements of approximations rather than rigid unchanging facts. The enormous scope for individual and communal development in the world is indeed a proof of the Creator's respect for the creatures that evolve from the potentialities of existence that have been prepared for them.


Chapter 2
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