Monday, July 26, 2004

Opening of the Charis Center’s Science and Faith Symposium

 

Concordia College Chapel

Monday July 26, 2004

The Rev. Jamie Parsley

 

 Revelation 21.1-6

 

Let us pray.

 Holy God of the beginning and of the end; God complete and yet persistently being conceived and born again; be the light that burns away the clouds that shroud you—the clouds of frustration and anger, the clouds of unbelief and false piety. You are, in this holy moment, both gauzy and burning with light. Lord Christ, come forth and make your presence known everywhere. Amen.

  

These words we just prayed together were adapted from a prayer written of one my personal heroes, a French Jesuit priest and paleontologist, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.

 

The reason I chose that prayer this morning is because I find it difficult to hear the scripture reading from the book of Revelation we just heard without thinking of Teilhard.

 

My attraction to Teilhard is one that has puzzled me over the years.

 

Oftentimes I have had to ask myself: why am I so drawn to this man?  

 

Certainly I’m no scientist and have never made any claim to be.

 

In fact, many of his scientific concepts are simply lost on me.

 

I am a poet and a priest, not a scientist.

 

But I think it is those two parts of myself—the poet and the priest—that are drawn to Teilhard because he too was a poet and a priest.

 

In the reading from Revelation, we hear Christ say,

 

I am the Alpha and the Omega.

 

Talk about poetic language.

 

Teilhard understood this concept in ways few others have.

 

This concept of Christ as the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, is at the very heart of everything Teilhard believed.

 

Teilhard was, by all standards, a dualistic Christian, as we all should be, to some extent.

 

Yes, on one hand he was a priest—whose personal piety was deep and profound. Teilhard—seen in his day as the rebel anti-Thomist priest known for his unorthodox writing which edged on heresy, had a deep and abiding devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and prayed the Rosary every day of his adult life.

 

On the other hand he was a scientist—the paleontogist trained in secular instructions, who was on the team that found the remains of the renown Peking Man. One of my favorite stories of Teilard is how, as a boy, he would collect pieces of iron so that he could take them out and adore them like a  “God of iron.” One day however he threw himself on the ground when he discovered a spot of rust on one of the pieces and cried at the “unreliability of a physical world of which he was a part…”[1]

 

In Teilhard we find a wonderful webbing of these two aspects that could very easily conflict with each other. And they have conflicted with each other.

 

Christians are still struggling with this whole concept of evolution.

 

There are still Christians in the world who have not been able to wed the holy in their life with the scientific.

 

Teilhard, however, was one of those few people who could not only do so effectively, but could, in the process, do something extraordinary.

 

In Teilhard, when his spirituality and his scientific thinking came together, poetry was born.

 

Teilhard saw the history of our natural world as a gradual unfolding. Inanimate matter evolved into living matter.

 

Simple life-forms evolved into more complex forms.

 

The epitome was human consciousness—or more precisely the spirit.

 

So, where was creation headed, Teilhard wondered?

 

The end point was a place in which matter and spirit converged. He called this point the Omega point.

 

As priest, who believed wholeheartedly in the Incarnation, this seemed to fall perfectly into the realm of the possible.

 

Teilhard defined the Incarnation as the “passing of God through matter.”

 

There alone we see it. The priest and the scientist coming together and making something we can grasp, something we can wrap our minds around.

 

God passing through matter.

 

God becoming matter and making matter holy.

 

Teilhard was able to see our existence in relation to God from a very unique perspective.

 

God was not just the distant creator of all matter, off in some metaphysical or supernatural heaven.

 

God came among matter and became matter.

 

This convergence of God and matter was Christ and in Christ we saw in a superbly perfect way this coming together of the two.

 

His perspective of in other areas was unique as well.

 

For example, he objected to the term “post-Christian.”

 

We are not living in a post-Christian time, Teilhard said. “Trans-Christian would be a better term.”

 

And evil, for Teilhard, was not “catastrophic—or the fruit of some cosmic accident—but the inevitable side effect of the process of the cosmos unifying into God.”

 

When I first read all of this I was overwhelmed and stunned.

 

It all seemed too much for me even begin to comprehend.

 

At the same time, however, it spoke to a place deep within me, the same place I find scripture speaking to me and moving me.

 

I can relate to Teilhard because I see in him what I want for myself as a Christian.

 

I strive to be, like him, a spiritual seeker—one who strives to find God—one who longs for the reality and presence of God in my life.

 

I strive also to be a bit of the scientist as well—the one who observes creation around me, but is not only to content to be awed and amazed by it. I want to know it and I want to partake of it as fully as I can. I want to understand it.

 

I want to echo Teilhard when he said “Less and less do I see a difference between [scientific] research and adoration.”

 

I want to be a poet who can bring these two sometimes divergent parts together in my life into an exquisite harmony.

 

The one part can cast light on the other and when it can’t, that’s when poetry can take over.

 

This is the message of Teilhard de Chardin for me and, I think, for all of us.

 

Only when we take his concepts and apply them to our lives do they truly matter.

 

Teilhard’s “big picture” of creation can help us to put our own existence in this created world and in our relationship with God into perspective as well.

 

This humble priest and scientist and poet is a guide.

 

He point the way forward not only to our collective omega point—that goal we as humans are moving toward—but toward our own individual omega points.

 

And this perspective is very much in keeping with what we heard earlier in Revelation.

 

In St. John’s vision we see very clearly that Omega point.

 

“The home of God is among mortals.”

 

Matter and spirit converge and a new earth is formed.

 

Isn’t this really the goal?

 

Isn’t this what we as Christians are working toward?

 

The Omega point is that place in which the so-called “kingdom” comes—it is the time and the place in which we will be fulfilled and made beautifully and perfectly whole.

 

“The day will come,” Teilhard said,” when the, after harnessing the ether, the winds, the tides and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And, on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, humankind will have discovered fire.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



[1] Teilhard. Mary & Ellen Lukas. p. 24.

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