Theological Musings

by C. Grey Austin, Ph.D.

Installment XIX -- January 1996


Science and theology share a common assumption: that reality is characterized by wholeness. In both cases, it is a statement of faith, utterly basic to both science and theology, a base from which to build.

In the sciences, the assumption of wholeness has led Einstein and those who have followed him to search for a Unified Field Theory that would unite into a single basic understanding the quantum theory of the micro universe of phenomena and the relativity theory of the macro universe. It is clear that the micro and the macro are alike in structure, but the connection that would establish their oneness has not been found.

Similarly, the quest for a single building block, what Leon Lederman calls "The God Particle," has not been successful. As early as 500 B.C.E., Democritus held that reality consisted of eternal and immutable units -- atoms -- and later science was able to verify the truth of that theory and to go on to discover still smaller particles that could be thought of as the building blocks of the atom. But the contemporary search breaks down as the tiniest of particles, when tracked, "winks out." Matter is energy, after all, and this may be the exact point at which that truth is illustrated.

Science also offers evidence of patterns of wholeness in Holographic theory and, in the computer field, with Fractals. If science has failed to prove the oneness of physical reality, it, nevertheless, continues to point in that direction.

In the social sciences, systems theory finds connections that point toward wholeness, as does Jungian psychology with its concepts of archetypes and the collective unconscious. And Gregory Bateson contributed by his efforts to understand social reality as an organic whole in Toward An Ecology of Mind and A Sacred Unity: Further Steps Toward an Ecology of Mind.

The words "whole," "holy," "health," and "hallow" all stem from a prehistoric Germanic word that meant "undamaged." Bateson, an eclectic thinker who began his career as an anthropologist and who referred to himself as "a fifth generation unbaptized atheist," wrote of standing back to see the whole, which he called "the sacred."

Religion, rather than trying to discover the whole by examining its smallest parts, assumes the whole and tells its stories with the whole as its point of reference. Thus the Creation, the building of nations, wars, prophetic warnings, songs of praise, rules for society, and hope for the future all illustrate, in Scripture, the Oneness of the Holy.

It was (is) my need to locate myself in this wholeness that led me to search outside religion for as much truth about reality as I could find. Religion offered me an anthropomorphic expression of the holy that I found unacceptable, as I have indicated in more than one of these "Musings."

So I became a seeker.

I asked, "What can I know?" and "How can I know it?"

I asked, "What is real?" and "What is ultimately real?"

I asked, "What is significant?" and "What is supremely significant?"

First, I consulted my five senses, and I explored the reality that I can touch, taste, smell, hear, and see. Add to that, the reality that all others report touching, tasting, smelling, hearing, and seeing. Through this process we all learn something of reality, but we discover that five-sensing is limited in its in-reach and out-reach. Much remains mystery.

Extending the reach of the five senses through scientific instrumentation and the application of rationality yields much more knowledge about the nature of reality, both inner and outer, both micro and macro. Still, there is a limitation of reach; mystery remains.

Science also tells us that we know less than we think we do about the "reality" we can sense -- that this table that looks and feels like solid oak is, in reality, empty space that contains moving particles too small to measure. Matter, including our bodies and all else we call physical, is energy. Deepak Chopra speaks of it as intelligent energy, analogous to the healing potential in each of the cells in the human body.

And, to make bad matters worse, or at least more confusing, modern physics tells us that time and space are also illusions. The senses, and the rationality that goes with them, may serve us well for our everyday encounters with what we experience as matter, but for purposes of reaching toward cosmic truth they are of little use.

Further, the world which the senses, even extended by science, identifies, is a world of things, not of their significance.

It becomes clear that we need to tap, and trust, additional ways of knowing. Among these are intuition, inspiration, dreams, imagination, mystical awareness, psychic insight, revelation, and whatever other words have been applied to the more mysterious ways of knowing. We can't test this knowledge with scientific methodology (though some limited efforts are being made) but we can experience the consequences of acting on what we know. It is at once the oldest way of knowing and the newest, and we can learn from those who have developed and used it effectively.

Scientists, some of them, tell us that their greatest discoveries, their most important theories, "came to them," not through observation and thought but the way Beethoven "heard" a symphony and wrote it down. After the preparation -- the practice -- came an openness to inspiration and creativity. And like other creative persons, scientists turn to metaphor to describe reality that exceeds the reach of their methodology and terminology. The closer we get to ultimate reality and supreme significance, the more we use the language of the poets, the musicians, the dancers, the mystics.

The non-sensory ways of knowing are not simply ways of extending sensory knowledge, that is, knowledge about things. They help us discover connections that we have not previously seen, and thus contribute to a vision of wholeness. They also give us knowledge of ourselves, that senses/science cannot access. And they reveal a perspective of Oneness that permits us to view the lesser in terms of the more. They provide access to the big picture, to matters of the spirit, to sources of meaning.

Identifying parts is a scientific enterprise; identifying the whole is a philosophical/theological task, though more effectively expressed by poets and dancers and mystics. The key to discovering significance is in looking at our world through holistic glasses.

My seeking has been, primarily, of the intellectual variety, and I have discovered the limitations of following that path as I observe that the best expressions of what I am seeking are of the heart rather than the head. This discovery does not denigrate rationality; rather it argues for balance of head and heart. Each supplements the other, and the whole is larger than the sum of its parts.

It is too easy, because of our Western upbringing, to apply either/or categories to the search for reality and significance. We define by saying what something is and differentiating from what it is not. We adopt dichotomies like mind/body, only to discover that we understand and maintain health better when we see them as integral. With many other dichotomies, perhaps all of them, there is more truth in "both/and" than in "either/or."

Over a year ago, in what I consider to have been a genuine spiritual breakthrough, and which I called "My French Silk Connection," I affirmed my oneness with all -- with all living beings, with all humanity, with all that I am, with the total chain of being, with cosmic truth. I find support for that concept of Oneness in the realization that the essence of life is energy, not time or place or quantity, that the micro is a reflection of the macro, the inner of the outer. For me, this is both physical and spiritual truth.

In affirming Oneness, I affirm the unity of humanity and divinity. This is a Western dichotomy and an Eastern unity; I find my truth in the latter.

What are the implications of my belief in cosmic Oneness?

1. The inner wisdom that I access through intuition, meditation, and dreams is to be trusted. It is cosmic wisdom, expressed through me.

2. I am both a human being learning to be spiritual and a spiritual being learning to be human. That is a oneness, not a dichotomy.

3. The Life Force for health and wholeness is a presence and a power for good in my life as it is in the universe. It consists of love, hope, peace, and joy. I would call that Life Force "God" if I could avoid the old, Western polarization that places God out there, other, transcending what it is to be human. The Life Force that activates and animates the universe is, in fullness, that which activates and animates me.

4. I find the sacred in the ordinary. This is another dichotomy that yields to Oneness.

5. My task in life is to be whole, i.e., to be fully myself. To realize my full potential might be thought of as my sacred duty, but I prefer to consider it my joy. It is my joy to do the reading, thinking, and writing that produce this document.

6. There is richness in the diversity of human/divine potential, therefore, there are many paths of spiritual expression. These include intellectual activity, artistic creativity, acts of compassion, personal growth through therapy and self-acceptance, meditative practice, conscious awareness, and participation in a loving community. I am not limited to a single path.

7. I move toward full realization of my potential when I affirm that I am love, hope, peace, joy; I am a force for health and wholeness, for myself and for the planet.



(Copyright 1997 by C. Grey Austin, all rights reserved.)


Click here to return to Grey's Musings menu.