Speculative Grace: An Experimental Port

I. Overture

Over the next few months, I want to conduct an experiment. 

In outline, this experiment - and I do want to emphasize its speculative, hypothetical character as an experiment - is straightforward: I want to port the theological concept of “grace” into a non-theistic framework in order to see if the concept survives and, if so, what modifications it would need to undergo.  My hypothesis is that grace can survive such a port and that, in fact, outside of a theistic ontology, grace may continue to thrive and abound.

Why attempt such an experiment? 

Two reasons in particular. 

First, in light of contemporary science, we have good reason to take seriously the claim that complex, dynamic, material systems are capable of producing extremely rich patterns of self-organization without the superaddition of any higher, designing, goal-oriented intelligence. Note, though, I am not interested, here, in debating the merits of the science. Rather, my aim is to see what happens to our conception of grace if we experimentally adopt a non-theistic ontology that takes seriously such non-directed self-organization as fundamental (rather than incidental) to the way things are.

Second, and more importantly, it seems to me that a great deal of valuable work has been done in Continental thought (from Nietzsche to Heidegger to Derrida to Marion) to show that we may have good reason to be suspicious about the spiritual viability of much of the theoretical, ontological, and political baggage woven deep into the fabric of theistic ontologies. I won't address this issue in more detail now, but I plan to dedicate next Friday's post to fleshing out some of the associated problems.

II. Definitions

Some preliminary definitions will get us started.

When I say that I want to “port” grace into a different metaphysical framework, I’m using the word in a way that is analogous to its use in computer programming. For a programmer, to “port” means to modify a program or application for use on a different platform or with a different operating system. 
 To port an application, you need to rewrite the sections of code that are system specific and then recompile the program on the new platform. 

Analogously, to philosophically port a concept means to modify it for use on a different ontological or metaphysical platform. Porting grace onto a non-theistic platform will require us to map its core architecture and the viability of different kinds of modifications. In this way, even if the port fails, we may learn valuable things about the nature of grace along the way.

Second, by “theism” I mean any ontology that understands God, as the Creator, to be the single unifying source of reality. In this sense, a belief in God is not necessarily incompatible with a non-theistic ontology. Only a belief that God is the single unifying source of reality is incompatible with a non-theistic ontology.

But, further, I want to claim that any ontology founded on the axiom that reality is ultimately “One” (whether this basic unity shows up as a governing principle, a macro-totality, a micro-uniformity, a transcendental horizon, etc.) remains essentially theistic. Such ontologies have simply substituted a philosophical avatar of original unity for “God.” To be clearly and decisively non-theistic, an ontology would need to break fundamentally with this traditional assumption of basic, original unity. Rather than accounting for how localized multiplicity comes from an original unity, it would have to account for how various localized unities emerge from an original multiplicity.

Third, my working concept of grace is minimally defined by four features. Grace is (1) prodigal: it is necessarily in excess of what is deserved or expected, (2) enabling: it opens avenues for action or ways of being that would otherwise remain closed, (3) absolute: it is, as least in some substantial respect, free or unconditioned, and (4) unmasterable: though it may be influenced, grace cannot be captured or controlled.

III. An Anticipatory Image

A final, anticipatory thought to set the stage for the coming months. In The Structure of Evolutionary Theory, Stephen Jay Gould characterizes the difference between pre-Darwinian and Darwinian accounts of life in the following way:

Pre-Darwinian concepts of evolution remained speculative and essentially non-operational, largely because they fell into the disabling paradox of contrasting an effectively unknowable large-scale force of cosmic progress against an orthogonal, palpable and testable small-scale force that could generate local adaptation and diversity, but that couldn't, in principle, explain the macroevolutionary pattern of life. Then Darwin . . . brilliantly argued that the putative large-scale force did not exist, and that all evolution could be explained by upward extrapolation from the small-scale force, now properly understood as natural selection. (23)

Prior to Darwin’s work on natural selection, the only way to account for the intricately patterned organization of life was through the invocation of an unavailable but presumably original divine force.  There must be, the story went, some additional force, hidden from view, operating from behind the scenes, that is organizing, with purpose and direction, the complex processes that are unfolding around us. There must be some original unity from which the vast complex of perceptible unities is derived.

The Darwinian revolution, on the other hand, takes shape at precisely the moment that Darwin breaks with this assumption and hypothesizes instead that what is given and available — here and now and in plain sight — is sufficient to account for its own intricate complexity.

What if, Darwin hypothesized, the given world were sufficient to account for its own organization? If so, what modifications would we need to make to our conception of life in order for life to be understood as capable of self-organization?

What kinds of evidence would we expect to find? And if we dispensed with the invocation of an unavailable but original macro-force, then what available conditions (like natural selection) would, for the first time, appear as fundamental rather than as secondary or derivative?

What is most striking about Darwin’s hypothesis is that, with one move, it suddenly animated the whole of the world’s historical and material complexity as something intelligibly at work. Rather than being a mute and static screen hiding from view the real but unavailable arena of divine action, the given world began to show up as itself dynamic and alive. The power of this Darwinian shift in perspective lay in the fact that it effectively operationalized the whole world as capable of producing and explaining itself. What was inert, opaque, and secondary now came to life as the potentially intelligible sum of its own life and being.

My own experiment aims to follow much the same trajectory. I want to see if it is possible to operationalize grace. I want to port it out of a traditional theistic frame-work and into the immanent domain of a non-theistic ontology. Doing so will involve an experimental shift from thinking about grace in terms of unavailable and transcendent “large-scale forces of cosmic progress" to treating it as a palpable, ubiquitous, and available “small-scale force.” Rather than being a unknowable force operating behind the scenes, might grace instead be what characterizes — here and now and in plain sight — the whole of this world’s self-organizing complexity?

Is grace such a thing that it's real power could only come via a supernatural investment of divine, theistic intent? Or is grace such that, in its small-scale, localized, and temporally distended operation is hidden, in plain sight (as with natural selection), a world-shaping strength?

My hypothesis means to test the latter.

Comments

[Tracy Shier]

Interesting. But in order to port an application, don't you first have to write the application? I wonder if a working definition of "grace" might not be helpful. You discuss the attributes of grace, or rather your thesis on what the attributes of grace might be, but I don't see language that indicates to me what grace is.

On the other hand, I can read your post as an attempt to define grace in terms of its functionality assuming a dynamic "being" that is not singular, that is, perfect. Whenever I engage in a functional analysis I like to key on three questions around the concepts of role, rule, and reason. What is the role of grace, the rule of grace, and the reason for grace?

As for ontologies, is it not true that postmoderns tend to eschew all talk of ontologies as false in the absolute. Not sure about this, but maybe you can help me on this point.

In terms of sources of grist for the mill, your experiment sounds to me in "process theology" and might I suggest Whitehead and Hartshorne for some relatively contemporary ideas. Maybe Russell? For the noncontemporary piece, maybe we should look at Spinoza's notion of function.

One thing, for a vast number of people this clearly is the vernacular.

Good luck.

[Michael Buttrey]

I'm going to be critical of your post, not because I think it's a stupid idea (I don't), but because I want you to do well (of course, that's in my understanding of the project, which may have nothing to do with what you are doing.) I ask forgiveness in advance.

First, I'm understanding you as attempting to build a non-theistic ontology with emergence (Polanyi et al?) at the centre, and to modify the concept of theistic grace for use under that platform. Then you provide a four point description of the grace you wish to port.

Do you know anyone who is a mere theist and has this concept of grace? I'm serious, because although I recognize similarities between your concept and Christian grace, you're talking about theism, not Christianity. And although of course it's philosophically gauche (if not obscurantist) to say so, I believe many Christians do not consider themselves theists: because what does understanding "a god who is a creator and the single unifying source of reality" have to do with "the god whose fullest self-revelation was in human history as a first-century Palestinian Jew."

Yes, I'm a Barthian. Is that illegitimate? It's certainly not the historic modern attitude - which I suspect is where much of our easy use of 'theism' originated, rather than with Anselm or Aquinas or even Greek philosophical-religious thought. (Compare Milbank's comment on Christian (and other) traditions' invention of Greek philosophy as an "interest free enquiry involving a view from nowhere" in "Faith, Reason, and Imagination: the Study of Theology and Philosophy in the 21st Century." If you despise Milbank, please forget I mentioned him.)

In short, both theism and theistic grace seem like they are fairly thin concepts (so far), which could make porting them to alternative framework not as radical as you intend. I'm not saying what you're doing is insignificant; I'm worried that you're placing too much weight on concepts that may be too insubstantial to support it. All of this may make you want to throw up your hands and say "I'm not doing Christian Theology!" That's great! But where are you getting your concept of grace from? A non-Christian, non-atheistic philosopher / practitioner? Which one? (Caputo?)

Second, I'm curious about the impression your history of evolution gives. Erasmus Darwin and Lamarck (yes, biology's punching bag) were proper evolutionists; all they lacked was the mechanism of natural selection, which Darwin is famous for. But natural selection does not equal emergence or evolution, but a component thereof. This is where quoting Stephen Jay Gould is problematic, because he was a proponent of punctuated equilibrium, and therefore tempted to overdraw the distinction between large and small scales and changes. As we learn more about genetics, such distinctions between macro and micro evolution has become regarded as unhelpful.

Still, I'm very excited about your project proper, and look forward to the next installment.

[Peter-David Smith]

For a history of non-theistic grace stretching back nearly two thousand five hundred years see Buddhism.
The Buddha lived in Northern India in the 5th Century B.C. His teachings were non-theistic. The central teaching is known as 'The 4 Noble Truths'.
The first of these is that we live in a world full of suffering. The second is that the suffering is caused by our desires. The third noble truth is that a way out of suffering does exist. The fourth is a description of that way to reach truth, grace and enlightenment.
After the end of the Buddha's incarnation on Earth his teachings were carried by missionaries to the east and to the west. The stone tablets of the Emporer Ashoka record that, in Ashoka's reign, Buddhist missionaries had reached as far west as Egypt and as far North as Macedonia. His reign was from 273 B.C. to 232 B.C. Therefore the non-theist concept of a rescue from the suffering of the world and a way to truth and grace had already been preached in the middle east before the birth of Jesus.

[Adam Miller]

Peter says:

"For a history of non-theistic grace stretching back nearly two thousand five hundred years see Buddhism."

Great anticipation, Peter. The Buddha will have an emerging part to play in this experiment over the next few months.

[Adam Miller]

Tracy says:

"You discuss the attributes of grace, or rather your thesis on what the attributes of grace might be, but I don't see language that indicates to me what grace is."

Yes, I will be responsible for fleshing out my initial sketch of grace. Partly I'll do this by way of contrast. If, though, you have any specific ideas about what a definition of grace should include, I'd be happy to hear them.

"Whenever I engage in a functional analysis I like to key on three questions around the concepts of role, rule, and reason. What is the role of grace, the rule of grace, and the reason for grace?"

These are three great questions. But, for the moment, they are pretty context dependent. We may end up giving very different answers to these questions depending on whether grace is elaborated in a theistic or non-theistic ontology.

"As for ontologies, is it not true that postmoderns tend to eschew all talk of ontologies as false in the absolute. Not sure about this, but maybe you can help me on this point."

Excellent point. Two responses: (1) I'd like to push back a bit against the postmodern tendency to privilege epistemological correlation as primary, and (2) this is one reason why I frame the project as "speculative." If one were to port grace into a nontheistic ontology, then what would this ontology look like and how would it affect grace?

"In terms of sources of grist for the mill, your experiment sounds to me in "process theology" and might I suggest Whitehead and Hartshorne for some relatively contemporary ideas. Maybe Russell? For the noncontemporary piece, maybe we should look at Spinoza's notion of function."

I think there is some resonance with process theology (though this is no speciality of mine). But Spinoza in particular will soon make more than one appearance.

My best,
Adam

[Adam Miller]

Michael,

Thanks for your thoughtful response. A couple of brief replies below.

1. No need to apologize. The reason for sharing is to solicit comments such as your own. I’m grateful for your time.

2. Emergence will play a part, but it won’t be ontologically central. I’ll say more about this in the future.

3. I entirely agree that many Christians may not bother with whether or not they are “theists.” I also agree that the central Christian claim is that, as you say, "the god whose fullest self-revelation was in human history as a first-century Palestinian Jew."

This is, in fact, a central point for me and one reason I’m interested in this speculative project.

It seems to me though that, in general, the tradition is very concerned with the question of theism. This shows up most obviously in its adamant claims regarding the importance creation ex nihilo and God's ontological exceptionality.

It seems to me that in order to be non-theistic, one would have to allow that a multiplicity of things could pre-exist or co-eternally exist with God – things that God would not have been responsible for creating. I’ll say much more about this in the coming weeks.

4. It’s okay with me if the project is not particularly “radical” in the end.

5. The concepts are indeed a bit thin at the moment – we’ll have to see how well they fill out in order to see how much weight they can or cannot bear. This is a good caution though.

6. The Gould quote doesn’t mention anything about punctuated equilibrium, but I think that his approach may be more salutary than the hard reductionism of Dennett or Dawkins, for example. Regarding the growth of research in genetics, my impression is that the research has shown that it is essential to allow for differences in scale and for a multi-directional, multi-level conception of causality. This also seems more apropos of Gould’s general perspective. However, these particular points are largely neither here nor there for the moment.

My best,
Adam