THEOCENTRIC ETHICS FOR A SECULAR WORLD: Toward a General Application of the Ethical Thought of James M. Gustafson

Aimee Patterson

Faculty of Religious Studies McGill University,

Montreal

February 2005

A thesis submitted to McGill University in partial fulfillment of the requirements of the degree of

Master of Arts

©Aimee Patterson 2005

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Abstract

Acknowledgements

Introduction

The Significance of Description The Anthropocentric Problem The Theocentric Solution

Cha pte rI: THEOCENTRIC THEOLOGY

Theological Context Sources A Sense of the Divine Religious Piety Relating God and Humanity

Cha pte r 2: THEOCENTRIC ETHICS

Ethical Context Basic Questions and Features Theocentric Flourishing Aspects of the Ethical Model Human Agency Ethical Discernment Comparison to Natural Law

Cha pte r 3: SECULAR THEOCENTRISM

Mary Midgley Commonsense Ontology Common Sources Natural Piety The Status of the Divine A Sense of the Sublime

Conclusion

Attitude Toward Nature Theocentric Environmentalism

Bibliography

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A bstract

THEOCENTRIC ETHICS FOR A SECULAR WORLD: Toward a General Application of the Ethical Thought of James M. Gustafson

Aimee Patterson

In order to work toward right relationships among humanity and ail other things, what is reqcired is an ethical theory that concems itself with interests that include but are not limited to the human. James M. Gustafson's theocentric ethics, which centres value on God, can accomplish this in the religious sphere. Gustafson's ethical theory also has the potential to work within nontheistic secularism as a way of consttuing ail things as interrelated· and interdependent. Underlying Gustafson's theology and value theory is a commonsense ontology, which appreciates _ evidences from the sciences, affective orientation, and resembles certain webs of beliefs held by many outside religious communities. In order to illustrate the transition to secular Gustafsonian ethical theory, functional surrogates of theology found in secular philosophy, and particularly in the work of Mary Midgley, are identified. Gustafson's ethical theory is used to identify certain obligations and restrictions with regard to environmental ethics.

UNE MORALE THÉOCENTRIQUE POUR LE MONDE LAÏQUE: Vers une applicatioiq~énérale de la pensée morale de James M. Gustafson

Aimee Patterson

En tentant de parvenir à des bonnes relations entre les humains et toutes autres choses, il nous faut une théorie morale qui traite des intérets qui, pour leur part, ne sont pas exclusifs à l'humain. La théorie morale de James M. Gustafson, qui nomme Dieu comme source de valeur, peut accomplir le susdit dans le domaine religieux. Cette théorie éthique pourrait également functionner à l'intérieur des bomes de la pensée profane et non théiste, comme manière de voir que toute chose est en relation mutuelle. A la base de la théologie et de la théorie de valeur de Gustafson se trouve une ontologie sensée, qui se rend compte des témoignages portés par les sciences et par une orientation affective, et qui ressemble aux croyances de plusieurs qui se trouvent hors de la portée des communautés religieuses. Afin d'illustrer l'acheminement vers une théorie morale et laïque chez Gustafson, on nomme des substituts fonctionnels pour la théologie provenant de la philosophie profane, comme celle qu'on trouve dans l' œuvre de Mary Midgley. La théorie morale de Gustafson est, enfin, employée afin d'identifier quelques obligations et restrictions dans le domaine de la morale écologique.

Acknowledgements

Among those to whom 1 wish to extend my deepest gratitude are the following:

Dr. Lisa H. Sideris, for serving as advisor to my studies and supervisor to this work. She has offered me thorough critiques while also allowing me freedom in composition. She is also responsible for introducing me to Gustafson's work, and for this 1 am truly appreciative.

Luvana DiFrancesco, for answering aIl the questions that come with the administrative process of wriring a thesis.

Paul Robson, for a careful translation of the abstract into French.

Dr. Roy Jeal and Dr. James Read, for their interest in this work, and for comments and conversations that have helped clarify my thoughts.

My parents, George and Holly Patterson, for starting me on this educational joumey, and for being enduring sources of encouragement.

My husband, Philip Read, for praises and challenges that have both supported me where 1 am and led me on to new things. He has taught me much about what is good.

1

Introduction

James M. Gustafson has been called many names. To some he is a heretic.1 To

others he is a revolutionary.2 Whether favourable or unfavourable, he has received much

attention from his coIleagues in theology and ethics. His most important work, Ethics from a

Theocentric Perspective/ has been the subject of two major compilations of scholastic review

and critique, one of which might be considered a companion reader, and has inspired

numerous other independent evaluations, dialogues, and responses.4 Gustafson's original

contributions to the fields of theology and ethics indicate that he is a controversial thinker

very much worthy of study.

In commenting on his program of theocentric ethics, Gustafson lists two convictions

that have motivated him, one religious and the other disciplinary.5 Religiously, he is

influenced by the Reforroed tradition and, in particular, John Calvin, who claimed that it is

God with whom we must deal in every aspect of life. In regard to his method, Gustafson is

persuaded that the basis for theological ethics must be a considered interpretation of God

and God's relationship to aIl things. Accordingly, he stands out from other Christian ethicists

by claiming that humanity, with its needs and interests, is not the centre of ethical concem

because it is not the centre of value. Instead, it is God that grounds all value. For this reason,

other forros of life are not to be put in our service. Gustafson is also theologically distinct

insofar as he rejects the kinds of supematuralism and private revelation often held in

Christianity, commenting that too frequendy theologians are more interested in other

theologians than in God (1: 68). Instead, he adopts Luther's famous dictum, "Let God be

God," and allows this to guide his explanation of "an adequate understanding of human life

in relation to God and for human agency" (1: 184 and 188).

In lifting out the salient characteristics of Gustafson's theological and ethical

program we can come to recognize that his conclusions have much to say regarding the

environmental crisis at hand; theocentrism is a way of turning from our own limited

perspective and regarding larger concems that impact all things. When we consider what is

good, we consider the good of the whole creation. However, environmental accountability is

not a matter only for the Christian church. While Gustafson writes for a Christian audience,

the implications of his ethics refer to issues that aU human agents need to address. We can

de fine our problem, then, as determining how an ethics steeped in theistic belief can both

2

speak to and be used by secular and nontheistic culture. Supported by the clear

understanding, acbieved in our fust two chapters, of how Gustafson fonnulates bis theology

and ethics, we will, in the third chapter, explore the possibility for such a translation. The

root of the method for applying theocenttic ethics in a secular wodd lies in Gustafson's

concept of the "functional surrogates" of religion that exist in philosophy and also in

common secular experience. The constructive element of this work will inc1ude an

examination of the way in wbich secular persons can reorient thett scope to displace

humanity as the centre of value. It will also outline, as an example, the thought of secular

philosopher Mary Midgley, whose conclusions resemble those of Gustafson in no small way.

We choose to engage Midgley because Gustafson draws on her work frequendy within bis

two volumes. Finally, we will examine some of the practical initiatives that theocenttism can

conttibute to the environmental situation, presenting a way to move forward with

theocenttic ethics.

The Significance of Description

Before going on to outline the basic convictions that order Gustafson's thought, it is

appropriate to pause and address the importance he gives to the description or consttual of

life. The opening lines of Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective state, "Every effort to develop a

coherent theology is shaped to some extent by the author's perceptions of the cttcumstances

in bis or her culture and in the churches" (1: 1). Anything that can be said theologically must

come out of a description of human experience. The second volume of this work, wbich

sbifts the focus to ethics, begins with a similar statement, indicating the importance of

description for the fonnation of moral nonns (2: 4). It follows, then, that if one does not

agree with another's interpretation of experience, one may well have difficulties with that

person's theological or philosopbical beliefs and ethical constructions (2: 140). So, to

understand the ethical reasoning of others, and indeed, that of oneself, one must articulate

one's description of experience.

Key to Gustafson's conception of descriptio~ and interpretation is recognizing that

these are only subsequent to actual experience. Description comes out of a reflection on our

experience, but it is the experience that is primary. Theology and ethics, for example, are

constructs that attempt to articulate a perspective of life. Underscoring the ethical

significance of description, Gustafson points out that the capacity to respond to events by

3

interpreting them is a uniquely human thing. In experience we respond to an object other

than the self in an effort to attain a more objective perspective (1: 128 and 222). Even when

we respond to ourselves we tend to view ourselves ref1.ectively as an other. Describing our

being, and our capacity for ethical agency, requires that we examine our experience of what

affects us, such as the natural environment, culture, and society. The fact that we exist in the

same natural world allows different groups of humans to relate to each other's experience.

While at one point Gustafson claims that knowledge conditions do indeed differ according

to one's particular tradition or community, he also argues that there are some objective

references that transcend community boundaries (1: 340 and 124). While our experiences are

not the same, there is some common area of reference by which we can relate to one

another.

Whether or not experience is interpreted objectively is another question.6 Gustafson

is not so naïve as to consider the experience and interpretation of an individual or a group to

be neutral or "correct." He recognizes that both our nature and our context affect not only

what we experience but also how we describe that experience (1: 281). For instance, certain

people are more religiously inclined, for various reasons, and will tend to construe

experience accordingly, seeing God where others see only natural forces. Our perspectives

are solidified and perpetuated through a circular pattern of informing between experience

and interpretation (1: 2f). This is not a vicious cycle; rather, it has been described as a

mutually correcting process, since we can recognize when certain negative consequences

arise from our perspective, making it inadequate.7 A second kind of corrective is provided in

the fact that experience is socially tested and generated. While it is possible that experience

can happen privately, it is normally informed by and related through communication within

society (1: 115 and 120). This is exemplified in the development of children, who, if they do

not receive social interaction, can easily become stunted. Experience, then, is an

interdependent phenomenon.

It is also something which, in itself, resists analytic divisions. There may be aesthetic,

religious, and moral elements to a single experience, but such labels are only devices used to

break down and analyze that experience. Experience itself is a unity (1: 116f). Nonetheless,

categories within our description of experience are useful in providing clarity. Gustafson is

very orderly in setting out his own theological description and offers four base points that

make up the requirements for an initial theological and ethical description (2: 143).8

4

Description begins with an interpretation of God and God's relations to or purposes for the

world, particularly with regard to human beings, the interpreters. Following this is a

description of the meaning or significance of human experience, including the arenas of ;

bis tory, culture, society, nature, and activity. Such description must be applicable for both

the individual and collective human groups. At this point we come to an interpretation of

humans as moral agents and a delineation of our capacity to act. Finally, we are able to

interpret how individuals and groups ought to make moral choices and judge actions.

As we turn to Gustafson's own description, we find a matter of great significance in

bis widened vision; what he takes into consideration as being morally significant is

appreciably broader than that of most ethicists. He does not limit the moral to "generic

features of action" but is open to considering other aspects, such as roles and relationsbips

(2: 5). While not concemed with "supematural" consequences of sin, he makes use of the

Calvinist idea of sin as the contraction of the human spirit (1: 304f). Contraction is a turning

in on oneself and leaving behind those that should be of concem. Gustafson wants to return

to a larger vision of the whole of reality, broadening our understanding of value and interest,

and in this way correcting the human fault.

There is a solid point to Gustafson's description, and that is to "make a case for how

some things really and ultimately are" (2: 98). This phrase will become critical to us in our

effort to relate Gustafson's theology to secular thinking. Ethically speaking, if the description

is inappropriate or incomplete, so will be the beliefs and the prescriptions that follow (2: 5).

This leads to the constructive relationship between description and normative statements

that underlies Gustafson's work. Though he does not make use of the concept direcdy, he

refers in a footnote to Morton White's device of "limited corporatism," wbich asserts that

descriptions and normative claims are correlated (cited in 2: 295 n. 13). White's idea is based

on the premise that the ethical agent does not test normative statements discretely but in

conjunction with a larger body of beliefs coming out of the description.9 This description is

restricted to one's own construal of experience, and the oughts that are derived have a

dependence on a fundamental, though dynamic, is. What results is an interdependence of

norms and descriptions with which Gustafson aligns hlmself.10

Thus, the description of experience is important not only because of its relationship

to action. Between experience and activity lies a portrait of how we see the world. For

Gustafson, description "is an articulation of the experience of dependence and

5

interdependence and the ambiguities of our capacity to be self-determining participants."l1 It

is critica~ then, that he offer his own description of the way he perceives contemporary

human society, culture, religion, Christian theology, philosophy, and nature. 1bis serves as a

premise for his thought, giving rise to his interpretation both of what is and what ought to

be.

Humanity's existence, according to Gustafson, consists in being sustained in the

world, being limited by conditions, and being given new possibilities for life (1: 33).

Humanity is radically dependent (1: 282). But humanity is also radically interdependent with

the rest of life. We inhabit a planet that gives us the means to exist and even thrive. Of

course, with other animais, we have a history of developing ways to manipulate the forces

bearing down upon us in our favour (1: 4). Humans are differentiated, however, by a

heightened capacity for agency, or the ability to exercise powers in accordance with purposes

and intentions. We are responsible to contribute to the continuaI ordering of the world:

"Special dominion implies special accountability as much as special value" (1: 109). There is

a kind of responsiveness between humanity and the patterns and processes of life. However,

while we are acquiring an increasing level of impact upon nature, we can never be free of

some form of sustenance external to us because of our requirements for life. Gustafson's

experience is of a power that sustains and limits, causing within him reverence and a

confession: "the chief end of man is to glorify God, to relate to all things in a manner

appropriate to their relations to God, in recognition of the dependence of all things upon

him, and in gratitude for aIl things" (1: 184).12 The proper way of acting, then, is detetmined

by the primary turn of humanity from itself to Gad (1: 308). This daim serves as

Gustafson's principal theological and ethical contribution.

The Anthropocentric Problem

Gustafson's description of what is true about God and humanity leads him to

disapprove of the contracted vision that has deve10ped in western society, both religious and

secular. His program responds to the present major ethical problem as he perceives it: that

of anthropocentrism.

The theology and ethics deve10ped here run counter to the anthropocentrism and the individualism of much of our culture. The basic reasons for tbis are theological; the basic argument is against either overtIy theological arguments that support

6

anthropocentrism and individualism, or against the "functional equivalents" of theology embedded in secular beliefs (2: 310).

In short, we have become self-obsessed, though this has not served us well (1: 110).

Lamenting the esteem given to the Protagoras's sentiment, "Man is the measure of an things," he questions this premise, calling it a very subjective interpretation of what is

objectively good (1: 82). While in the modem age humanity has positioned itself as the

measurer of an things by drawing on the unique capacity to know and evaluate, what we

measure should not necessarily be considered less than human because it is not human.

Anthropocentrism spans three basic levels: a centring on the human race as apart

from other life forms, a centring on particular segments of humanity as apart from other

human groups, and a centring on the self as apart from other humans (1: 309). It denotes

both elitism and egocentrism (1: 190).13 At all three levels there is present a selfish concem

and a notion of isolation. These ideas have obvious problems for ethical valuation, including

the reduction of an things to their utility value to ourselves (2: 283).

At the root of the problem is the fact that in our self-obsession we have altered our

understanding of ourselves with regard to radical dependence and interdependence. The

ability to effect change in our world is a remarkable thing, but it can be destructive to human

and nonhuman life if it is without limitation. While autonomy and freedom are important

aspects of humanity, our need for control and self-sufficiency must be checked. The more

we gain control over our world, the more we find that it still needs to be controlled; human

remedies always create additional problems not anticipated. We have neglected to realize that

"the limits of foreknowledge and of control of consequences have been moved but not

eliminated" (1: 13). Gustafson's keen observation is that this result is opposite to the

Enlightenment intention to gain knowledge (1: 5, 7, and 12). The dubious aim of the

Enlightenment has been the quest to "overcome the uncertainties of being merely human."

On the other hand, Gustafson is not making the argument that humans have only recently

become highly anthropocentric (1: 83). Anthropocentrism has appeared throughout human

history as a way "of denying man's ultimate dependence on a power we cannot control, a

source of goodness we did not and cannot create" (2: 320f).

The alienation from our true human nature has resulted in several effects. Our

human relations, imposed upon by false power structures, are disordered and injustice

prevails as an effect of anthropocentrism. But in addition to this, we have alienated ourselves

7

from what we ought to be by divorcing our identity from other animals. Our

anthropocentric interpretation of humanity has tended to stress those human characteristics

that are unique to us, that make us distinct. They then make up a new conception of

humanity (1: 281). Akin to this has been our separation of humanity from the natural world.

Gustafson would agree with Stephen Toulmin that humans tend to treat the earth, our

home, as a hote1.14 The Cartesian dichotomizing ofhuman reason and physical nature has led

us to believe we can remove ourselves from the problems of the earth, either through

ignoring these problems, or by finding technological solutions to them. What we fail to

realize along either of these two paths is that we cannot avoid participation within the

natural world. The concept of participation will figure highly in Gustafson's ethics and his

outline of the human agent.

Gustafson summarizes the ethos of modern culture as being preoccupied with

technical rationality and scientific ways of thinking, relatively uncritical of technological

advances, encouraging of the "thingification" of persons so that they become means and not

ends in themselves, and obsessed with quantification through cost-benefit analyses (1: 71).

Gustafson certainly does not position himse1f against science or technology, and much ofhis

program is occupied with encouraging theologians to attend to the knowledge available to

them through the sciences. N onethe1ess, he does see problems with the kind of scientism

that has irmpted in the larger cult:w:e: science -Îi a critical activity for understanding the

world, but it is not capable of making humanity omnipotent. Like religion, science is a

historical-cultural movement, and it should not be seen apart from these influences (1: 139).

It is becoming increasingly apparent that buttressing science with the claim that it provides

immutable truth is a mistake.

But it is not the larger culture that Gustafson will primarily address. His mam

concern is with the Christian church and the kind of spiritual anthropocentrism that

Christians exhibit. Anthropocentrism, and even the egocentrism carried with it, is religious as

well as cultural (1: 110 and 2: 307). His initial critique is that Christianity has become

concerned with an individualistic view of human salvation.15 In part, this has been an effort

to assert the instrumentality of Christianity in providing resolution to deep human questions

(1: 26). This has been achieved through the assurance of final restitution, the application of

religion in the political sphere, and the promise of personal salvation:

8

The temptation of religion is always to put the Deity and the forces of religious piety in the service of the itnmediate needs and desires of individuals, small groups, and societies. 1 admit that this has, alas, always and everywhere been the case, and that there are deep roots for this flowering within the biblical tradition itself. Religion is put into the service not of gratitude, reverence, and service to God but of human interests, morally both trivial and serious (1: 25).

This kind of sociological perspective is abhorrent to Gustafson, who considers

religions to be expressions of being affected by others or an Other, rather than institutions

that exist for their utility value (1: 16). When religions begin to appraise themselves

according to instrumentality alone, they neglect their own unique expressions of an

experience of the divine. Considering religions in this way also results in a very narrow

reflection on the world situation. It encourages people to respond only to their own

individual needs, rather than the larger scope of things. This means also that Chris tians have

provided some very questionable resolutions to practical concems oflife in the world (2: 221

and 292 n. 11). Gustafson criticizes them for prematurely dismissing the suffering of

humarÎity and the world, and for going on to express confidence in special divine care:

If God responds to my prayers and desires and is indifferent to the fundamental needs of millions of pers ons in the world, 1 am forced to think critically about the characteristics of God and about the preoccupation with my own desires and needs.16

Like culture, religion has attempted to escape its radical dependence on God. The

Christian strategy has been to "manage and manipulate" God so that divine power works in

human favour (2: 319f). And yet, most theological traditions would consider it blasphemous

to say plainly that God was made for humanity or is now in the service of humanity. At the

root of this discrepancy is a theology that has said too much about God. The epistemological , problem is that God is not an object of study as other things can be studied (1: 32). Neither

can God's purposes be studied or determined. Gustafson prefers to view religion as a

construction built around human experiences of what is beyond the human.17 Taking his cue

from Julian N. Hatti, he refuses to defi.ne theology as a marking down of divine revelation

and instead considers it the activity of relating aIl things to their relations to God (1: 158).

Though most theologians do not pronounce that God was made for humanity,

theologies that say too much end up affirming that God's purposes align with humanity's

good end, which has the same effect (1: 92). For instance, Augustine, Calvin, and Edwards

each pay some attention to life apart from humanity, whether through the consideration of

9

natural law or the majesty of God witnessed in nature. However, each has an

anthropocentric tendency to align God's will with humanity's good, instead of aligning the

human will with God's purposes. While the Reformed tradition considers the goal of

humanity to be the glorification of God, it also shares the God-for-us assumption or the

special providence approach found in Christian social reform movements, exemplified in the

words of Walter Rauschenbusch: "The will of God is identical with the good of mankind"

(quoted in 1: 94). Even neo-orthodoxy, which arose as a reaction against social gospel

humanism, has affirmed the alignment of divine will with human good. Karl Barth, in his

Church Dogmatics, claims boldly that God is for humanity.'8 Ali this, in Gustafson's wry

language, makes for a "happy coincidence" (1: 190). His counter assertion is that while God

is not perceived to be against humanity, any sense in which God is for humanity must be

carefully qualified.

Much of this God-for-us mindset cornes out of the failure of theology to recognize

God's work in nature as well as history. Eschatological theologians, such as Jürgen

Moltmann, display this trend (1: 42 and 49). Gustafson criticizes such theology for ignoring

what the sciences reveal: that there is an impendingfinis that has none of the resolution or

redemption associated with eschatological visions. A second area in which theology neglects

to inform itself scientifically is the place of humans in the will of God. Humanity is often

seen to be the crown of creation, not only because of interpretations of the Genesis creation

stories but also because the redeemer cornes in the form of a human. When the place of

humanity in the world is examined from a scientific perspective, though, it becomes

apparent that a long process has occurred in order to give rise to the required conditions for

human life. This process, Gustafson notes, is far too indirect and inefficient to support the

idea that humanity is the crown or goal of creation (1: 83 and 268). As well, this process

reinforces the fact that humans remain dependent on the larger world; we have not arrived

on our own, nor do we continue to live successfully on our own. This means that "we can be

sure that we are creatures, and that we are not God" (1: 9).

In consequence of this, the modem philosophical ethos a.nd theological assertions

have led to the anthopocentricizing of ethics. Gustafson agrees with Hans Jonas's

observation that ethics has become a human-centred enterprise (1: 81 and 88). Through the

rejection of a divine or objective moral order, ethics has arrived at the solution of utility,

neglecting the fact that our good is interdependent with all other things. This has the

10

character of overlooking a certain truth: "What if there is a deep incongruity between what

we know about nature and the continuities of man with nature on the one hand, and on the

other hand a life-policy of humanizing and personalizing the world?" (1: 266). Gustafson's

conclusion is that our uncurbed and extreme anthropocentrism, while attempting to serve

the interests of humanity, is actually destructive of it. By seeing ourselves in isolation we eut

off our own kinship and life-support (1: 104f).

The Theocentric Solution

The basis of theocentric ethics, then, will be to initiate a reorientation and broaden

our scope of consideration to the whole. In answer to the cultural ethos, theocentrism has

the effect of altering the way we regard ourselves. It also changes the way we understand

science. If we are to be participants in the world, science will no longer be able to hide

behind the labels of objective activity and removed indifference. Rather, scientists will have

to be seen as individuals who are highly involved and interested in the world. .

But most critical for Gustafson is the change theocentrism brings to the Christian

faith. It leads to a profession that human beings exist to serve God, and not the other way

around (2: 322). In this way Gustafson can address an ethical quandary lik.e the Euthyphro

debate--does God love the good because it is good, or is the good made so because it is

loved by God? We often feel uneasy in favouring the former alternative because God does

not always conform to our idea of goodness. Gustafson recontextualizes the debate, defining

the good in a much broader way that is not centred on humanity but on God (1: 89ff). If the

centre of value is God, aU things are good because they are related to God. So he caUs us to

put away the debate and see value relationally, rather than substantively.19

We begin to see that while Gustafson will offer a unique and compelling theological

account, his most profound contribution is his ethics. In displacing the anthropocentric

focus of western ethics he reminds us that moral life is far more complex than it is often

interpreted. In enlarging our scope of ethical vision, we become open to the importance of

relationships outside exclusively human_ ones, and to the whole of life (1: 317). He changes

the very nature of the primary ethical questions, ''What is of value to human beings?" and

"What are the right relations between persons?" by asking, ''What is good for the whole

creation?" and ''What conduct is right for man not only in relation to other human beings

but also in relation to the ordering of the natural and the social worlds?" (1: 88).

11

Theocentrism requires a· conversion not only of perspective but also of action. The

problem with this, of course, is that a process of conversion, of transformation of

perspective, is difficult to achieve within society. Gustafson recognizes that major shifts in

attitude or oudook seldom occur apart from an experience of catastrophe. Theocenttism

may never prevail until it surfaces as a required response to the breakdown of the cutrent

ethos. However, with the increasingly imperilled state of the natural environment, this

catastrophe may be closer than we care to think.

1 Richard A. McCormick, "Gustafson's God: Who? What? Where? (!!,tc.),"JournalojReligious Ethics 13:1 (1985), 64 and 69 andJohn Howard Yoder, ''Theological Revision and the Burden ofParticular Identity," in James M. GusttifSon:r Theocentric Ethics: Interpretations and Assessments, eds. Harlan R. Beckley and Charles M. Swezey (Macon: Mercer University, 1988), 86. 2 Stephen Toulmin, "Nature and Nature's God," JournalojReligious Ethics 13:1 (1985),38. 3 James M. Gustafson, Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective, 2 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1981 and 1984). Hereafter the two volwnes are cited in the text as "1" and "2." 4 See, for example, "Focus on the Ethics of James M. Gustafson," Journal ojReligious Ethics 13:1 (1985): 1-100 and 185-209 and Beckley and Swezey, James M. GusttifSon:r Theocentric Ethics. 5 James M. Gustafson, "Response to Hartt," Soundings 63:4 (Winter 1990), 699. 6 For instance, see Gustafson's recalling of Jonathan Edwards's interpretation of the divine will acting through the collapse of a meeting house in 1: 93f and An Examined Faith: The Grace ojSe!fDoubt (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2004), Hf. 7 Margaret A. Farley elaborates on this pragmatic element, calling it a "reality check," in ''The Role of Experience in Moral Discemment," in Christian Ethics: Problems and Prospects, eds. Lisa Sowle Cahill and James F. Childress (Cleveland: Pilgrim, 1996), 138. 8 These are fust outlined in Gustafson's Protestant and Roman Catholic Ethics: Prospects for Rapprochement (Chicago and London: University of Chicago, 1978), 139ff. 9 Morton White, What Is and What Ought to Be Done: An Esst!! on Ethics and Epistemology (New York and Oxford: Oxford University, 1981), 11-23. 10 James M. Gustafson, "A Response to Critics," Journal ojReligious Ethics 13:1 (1985),191. 11 Ibid. 12 Regrettably, much of Gustafson's work makes use of masculine pronouns in reference to hwnanity, an offence he corrects in his more recent publications. 13 See also James M. Gustafson, "AlI Things in Relation to God: An Interview with James M. Gustafson," Second Opinion (March 1991), 88. 14 Stephen Toulmin, The Return to Cosmology: Post modern Science and the Theology ojNature (Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California, 1982), 272. 15 James M. Gustafson, Christian Ethics and the Communi!} (philadelphia: Pilgrim, 1971),29. 16 James M. Gustafson, "Alternative Conceptions of God," in The God Who Acts: Philosophical and Theological Explorations, ed. Thomas F. Tracy (University Park: Pennsylvania State University, 1994),70. 17 James M. Gustafson, ''Possibilities and Problems for the Study of Ethics in Religiously Pluralistic Societies," in Culture, Religion and Socie!}: Esst!!s in HonourojRichard W. Tt!!lor, eds. Sarah K. Chatterji and Hunter P. Mabry (Delhi: ISPCK, 1996), 241. For a similar de finition see Gustafson's "Religiosity: An Irritating Necessity," Chrisfiani!y and CnJir (10 July 1961), 126. 18 Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, III/2 (!!,dinburgh, T. and T. Clark, 1960),609. 19 This is a notion he adopts from H. Richard Niebuhr. See Niebuhr's Radical Monotheism and Western Culture (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), 100-113.

12

Chapter 1

THEOCENTRIC THEOLOGY

We commence our outline of Gustafson's theology keeping in mind especially those

aspects that will be important to our constructive task, that of applying theocentric ethics to

secularism. This process must first address the theological context in wbich Gustafson is

situated. This will be followed by a review of the sources he uses, a subject that is vital to

understanding the uniqueness of theocentric theology and ethics. We will then be able to

examine the salient aspects of Gustafson's theology, including the description of God, the

human fault, and the human response to God. Throughout this conversation the idea of

piety, or an orientation toward God, will be present in the background, though it will not be

identified in detail until we outline Gustafson's exposition on the human response. However,

for reasons that will become apparent, it is important to recognize in describing this

empirically driven theology that the essence of the program is an inner disposition that

encourages a response to the divine. Finally, while we will be mindful of the criticisms

Gustafson's theology has received from bis contemporaries, our concem here will not be to

address them all. We will instead examine those that further us along our path by clarifying

Gustafson's thought or indicating room in bis program for further consideration.

Theological Context

Gustafson does theology not so much in order to make a contribution to the

academic field, though bis work does accomplish this, but primarily to make an offering to

the church (2: 290f). As an ethicist, he believes that it is the concemed agent, and not the

moral counsellor, who is responsible for action, and so he wishes to further the capacities for

thought and action within the Christian community.l This being said, he does not provide

the coromunity with a comfortable theology. He has been described as an iconoclast whose

aim is to remove the idols of Christian narcissism in the name of God's sovereignty.2

Gustafson is a reconstructionist, calling himself a "Free Church theologian," who draws

upon but is not confined by traditional symbols and creeds (1: 163). Examining the body of

critical response to Gustafson's work, David Schenck has clarified that Gustafson's theology

13

fits within the historical Christian tradition, though perhaps not the creedal3 He uses first­

order theological terms infrequently, and reinterprets symbols such as sin and redemption,

claiming that neither reinterpretation nor revision are novel activities (1: 111, 124, 146f, and

190). Contributing to his idea of Free Church theology is an understanding of the nature of

theological tradition: it is not the stagnant regurgitation of divine words once received; it is

dynamic in its development because it is the articulation of a response to the divine (1: 144)"

Symbols and creeds are developed in particular social and historical climates, and thus must

be reexamined for application in different contexts. A tradition can put forth truths, but

such truths do not have to be complete or even timeless. Looking with fresh eyes at the

tradition today requîtes that additional sources be brought in, including evidence from the

sciences. We will examine the place Gustafson makes for science, which takes on a

correcting role, though not an independently authoritative one. Gustafson's view of tradition

means that his work has a certain appeal to secular readership not found in other Christian

theology. Toulmin even remarks that Gustafson challenges his colleagues by going over their

heads to appeal to a wider circle of reference.5 For these reasons, Gustafson is often seen

apart from the theological community, and even apart from other liberal reconstructionists

such as Gordon Kaufman.

But Gustafson does insist that he works in continuity with Christian theology and,

specifically, with Reformed theology (1: 110f). In fact, both in his life and work he cannot

escape it. Having in mind the corrective relationship between experience and community he

writes, "The religious language and symbols of one's tradition penetrate one's perceptions

both of the meaning of what is seen and one's affective responses" (1: 228). Like most other

theologians, Gustafson affirms dependence on something greater than the self or humanity.

Human finitude, as it relates to lifespan, vision, and agency, is also an important element of

theocentrism. In line with Christian tradition, though somewhat separate from Reformed

determinism, Gustafson includes the theological assertion that humans do have some

capacity to act in the world, and that for this they are accountable to a larger order or

Orderer. Finally, Gustafson warns against the classic faults of pride, sloth, and idolatry, as

weIl as the disordering that is a concem of natural law theory. His primary departure from

Christian theology comes with the fact that he refuses to give a place to the traditional

doctrine of the salvation of humanity or of individuals. Instead, he understands human

salvation to exist in a wider context. Christianity's "warm and friendly deity" is displaced, as

14

is the more retributive side of God. God instead serves as the source of human good,

though God does not serve as its guarantor (2: 40). GeneraIly, Gustafson's theology is

shaped by the doctrine of creation rather than redemption. 1bis shift brings him to focus on

the relationship of God to nature in order to counterbalance the weight usually given to

God's relationship to human history. AlI this has resulted in many critical comments ranging

from the accusation that Gustafson smudges the distinction between God and nature to the

claim that Gustafson's God is insufficient to relate to humans.

While not confining himself to classic construction, Gustafson considers his work to

come out of the Reformed tradition, as the theology of this tradition best describes his

experience (1: 176). He continually draws on Calvin, Edwards, Schleiermacher, and his

mentor, H. Richard Niebuhr. In particular, he wishes to retain three interrelated components

of Reformed theology (1: 163f). Within theology it is this tradition that best emphasizes the

sovereignty of God, and he appropriates this in his outline of the human sense of a powerful

Other. Secondly, Reformed theology demands that piety be central to religious and moral

life. 1bis gives rise to Gustafson's porttayal of affective attitudes of reverence, awe, and

respect that lead to devotion, duties, and responsibilities. FinaIly, the ordering of life and

values in relation to God figures significantly in theocentrism. God requires our activity to

be ordered properly, and humans are to act according to what can be discemed about God's

purposes. For instance, theologians such as Calvin and Edwards considered the chief end of

humanity to be the glory of God and called Christians to order their lives and actions in view

of that (1: 113).

There are also problematic elements within Reformed thought that Gustafson will

attempt to destabilize. These include the anthropomorphism of God, the divine intention

for human well-being, and the emphasis on the predestination of humanity (1: 179ff).

Gustafson perceives such elements to stand in tension with those tenets he affirms, and his

theology seeks to provide resolution to this. He aims to call the Reformed tradition back to

its heart, which is the idea of aIl creation belonging to God. Though few of his colleagues

appreciate Gustafson's approach, Douglas F. Ottati supports him by remarking that

Reformed theology should "continue to insist that aIl of life be reordered in response to the

living God, whose sovereign reign bears aIl things in nature and in history. To do otherwise

would be unReformed."6

15

Sources

Though Gustafson considers aIl traditions to be in a process of development, such

development is shaped by the authority a tradition invests in particular sources (1: 153). As

has been noted in the introduction, human experience is a primary source in Gustafson's

theology, but description of experience goes through a historical and communal correction

process that brings in other sources ofknowledge. Together with these, experience leads to a

description of how things reaIly and ultimately are. John P. Reeder has likened Gustafson's

theocentric program to a raft kept afloat by four barrels, or sources.7 These include human

experience, evidence from the sciences, Christian tradition, and philosophical judgements.

Gustafson continues the analogy by saying that aIl four are needed to keep the raft from

tipping over, though it often is weighed down in favour of one source or another as he

proceeds through his description. These sources, then, interact in ways that give unique

shape to Gustafson's theology. With only these four, though, it is clear that Gustafson leaves

out other &equendy used sources, including revelation as it is classically defined. While

respecting the particular perspectives of traditions, he eschews any private, privileged, or

direct source of theological information that is inaccessible to those outside of a tradition.

God is, in Gustafson's description, experienced only indirecdy through nature, culture,

society, and other arenas (1: 82). He shows sympathy for William James's de finition of

theology as being not a body of knowledge given supematuraIly, but rather a human activity

comprised of "the delineation of an object that is religious" (1: 223). He comments,

Theology is not reflection upon something supematural, as if we could reflect on something that is not in any way related to human experiences. But religion is grounded in experiences of "others": of nature, of human communities, of human creativity and action (1: 134f).

Yet he does not intend to feed into the polarity of reason and revelation. Instead, he

redefines revelation as those insights that come through observation (1: 149). Thus, whether

individuals consider theological statements to be reasoned or revealed, both of these ways of

knowing are dependent upon human experience (1: 147f).

While the source of experience includes the memories of human history, Gustafson

has it as his agenda to displace history as the sole or central realm of God's activity and

reemphasize the place of nature in perceiving the work of God. Underscoring history has the

effect of making humans the focal point, while emphasizing nature does not (1: 48). But

theology, and especially Protestant theology, has often avoided the category of nature out of

16

a fear of falling into pantheism: 'We have a Ptolemaic religion in a Copernican universe;

religion and theology have to do with God in relation to man and history, not so much in

relation to thenatural world" (1: 190). In an effort to buttress the claim that humans are not

the centre of divine concern, Gustafson reclaims nature for God.

We have observed the identity that tradition, as a source, takes on in theocentric

construction; we may also note that Christian philosophical judgements are suhject to the

same critiques. When particularly Christian thought is balanced by the other sources, this has

the effect of excluding aIl precritical notions. However, Christian thought remains an

important source as part of the historical dialogue that shapes experience. A tradition's

symbols contribute to a larger system that endeavours to explain how things really and

ultimatelyare (1: 192ff). Within the umbrel1a of tradition stands the source of scripture, by

which Gustafson's work is informed, though in a heavily qualified way. While scripture and

tradition enlighten our own perspective, and we do weIl to consult them, they have no

independent authority over how Christianity is shaped in the present and future. Gustafson

considers both the scriptural canon and original Christian doctrines to have been influenced

by the Hellenistic culture that served as the context for the earlychurch. He notes that

Christian philosophy and dogma would have developed very differendy had their context

been India.8 Very few theologians, Gustafson recognizes, give credit to the influence of

culture and society upon theology: "Developments which, to me, can be explained as

historically accidentai are to them theologically deterroinative."9

These critiques of tradition arise, in large part, due to the credence Gustafson gives

to scientific ways of knowing, which appeal to his sense of experience. What is given to

humanity are senses that enable us to see, hear, smeIl, touch, and tas te the world, and such

measurements contribute to our description of experience. Theology must not ignore these

ways of knowing, since they shape our daily lives; indeed, scientific understanding and

empirical measurement now tend to deterroine the way western culture defi.nes reality.lO

Since much of what is described in theology regards the penultimate, such as how we relate

to God and God's world in the present, it is appropriate that theology takes scie?ce, which

sets out the accepted method used for measuring penultimate things, into account. l1 On the

other hand, scientific theories and developments do not explain or measure everything in

our experience. We must pause here to note that Gustafson is also interested in providing a

correction to the prevailing attitude of scientism, and he does this by including in experience

17

the sense of piety he understands many humans to have. In our third chapter we will further

examine this critique by highlighting the attack Mary Midgley makes on scientism from a

secular philosopbical perspective. But at this point we wish to concenttate on the credit

Gustafson gives to scientific ways of knowing in order to persuade religiously minded

people. Some of bis critics have charged him with a naïve comprehension and use of the

sciences, accusing him of trusting them unquestioningly.12 However, Gustafson makes no

uncritical reference to the sciences. He recognizes that our scientific knowledge changes over

cime, but also asserts that we continue to have better and better understandings of reality as

we improve our knowledge base (1: 257f and 340). Midgley says that he challenges

theologians to admit, "the facts that 1 accept as the scientific facts are relevant to my

metaphysics and thereby to my ethics.,,13 Practically, this places limits on theology, some of

which have already been realized by the larger theological community. For instance, the

interpretation of the first Genesis creation story as representing a process that took longer

than seven twenty-four hour periods is due, in part, to increased scientific understanding.

The same is true for the growing perception among Christians that such things as suicide or

homosexual activity have natural and not necessarily evil causes (1: 143). However,

Gustafson is vigilant in recognizing that theologians have largely ignored the insights of

science when it comes to considering the place of humanity in creation (1: 90ft).

As has been mentioned, in conttast to the scientific emphasis, Gustafson does not

leave out the invisible or the intangible things that are apparent to many people. What we

believe religiously cannot be detetmined exclusively by science. There are ways of knowing

apart from empirical definition. Gustafson seeks an accommodation between religion and

science in which science limits but does not control the content of theological accounts,

bringing the two to a position· of general congruity (1: 251).14 Contending that our

theological and ethical symbols must be refigured to communicate to our cime and context is

not to say that science absorbs theology. Rather, theology should be constructed with

reference to whatever facts are available to it:

Whether one can sufficiendy back what is saj.d about the Deity on the basis of a variety of evidences adduced from nature and experience remains an open question; efforts to do so, however, are worth the risk, for a vacuous God provides no bearings whatsoever for the conduct of life in the world (1: 62).

While Gustafson introduces a subjective element into theology, at cimes bis raft tips in

favour of the knowledge that comes from empirical observation and the sciences, which are

18

used as guides and limits for it (1: 266). The unity of experience calls us to reject certain

distinctions, such as reason and faith, in order to perceive our different ways of knowing

holistically. In generating this idea, Gustafson draws on Edwards's sketch of the two

faculties of the soul that are held together: the will and the understanding.15 Considering our

emotion or intuition only apart from our reason and will compromises our understanding of

the intettelatedness of these capacities that make up our being. At the level of experience,

these distinctions themselves tend to be false, though in particular cases of interpretation

they have heuristic value (1: 118f). Emotions and affectivity are not nonrational, but they are

unsettled and need to be tempered (1: 199f). Gustafson has some difficulty in providing

adjectives that describe the different nature of the truths discovered through empirical

reason and those through theology. He ends up stating that theology's truth claims are "soft"

in comparison with those of science (1: 260). While his intention is not to make theology a

lesser form of knowledge in comparison with science, he must distinguish between empirical

data and theological truth.

A Sense of the Divine

Of course, Gustafson realizes that even claiming the existence of God is not

scientifically verifiable, though it is a valid possibility in perceiving the creation of all things.

It is through our affectivity that some humans sense or construe a divine or ultimate being

beyond what is empirically known. At this point the theological work is taken up. Gustafson

is careful in using the term mystery to describe God. He is not a mystic, and works within

the categories of the known, rather than the unknown, even though it can be said that what

is known comes out of a variety of ways of knowing:

The sense of the mystery of God is not simply the opaqueness of his reality that cannot be fully penetrated by the human mind but the ineffability of his presence even when he is "known." The mystery of God is not just that there are secrets which people cannot know, that there is something toward which a whole series of investigations point with increasing accuracy as they overcome ignorance, as in the case of knowledge of Saturn or of genes. It is that the reality that is "known" or experienced does not yield the precise formulations that phenomena do. Mystery is not equivalent to unknown or unknowable but rather to known (in the sense of experienced) but not fully describable and explainable (1: 33).

This distinction between mystery and unknown frames Gustafson's concept of religious

piety. It also introduces us to his relationship to metaphysics. Gustafson avoids speculative

19

metaphysical philosophy, a category he considers unknowable, though he does say some

things regarding an epistemology based on a known experience of the world.

As should be clear at this point, Gustafson does not believe the theologian can

assume knowledge from God's point of view; it is simply not possible (2: 146). Ail we can

know of God comes from our perceptions of the world around us, and the continuous

world within us. 1bis is revealing of why he places more emphasis on the doctrine of

creation than redemption, even to the point of being called a religious naturalist.16 Edward

Farley has made the observation that Gustafson presumes his naturalistic ontology to be

self-evident.17 He does not address or explain it discretely but assumes his readers foilow him

in his understanding of the way things reallY and ultimately are. Consequendy, Farley has

labeiled it a "commonsense ontology.,,18 Since Farley's assessment is more explicidy arranged

than our primary source in this case, it is helpful to review his categorization of five elements

within Gustafson's ontology: individuals, contexts or wholes, interaction or participation,

change, and patterns or conditions.19

Gustafson describes individuals as moral agents who can both receive and initia te

action (2: 10). Individuals, however, are part of a whole that serves as a context for actions

and relationships. There are different contextual levels within the whole, including larger

ones, such as an ecosystem, and smailer ones, such as a city. So, people participate in the

world at many levels. The interaction between these wholes causes reciprocal influencing,

and, consequendy, change is effected. Here we arrive at what is meant by the ordering of the

world. 1bis is the most significant aspect of Gustafson's commonsense ontology. Nature,

while relatively stable from a human perspective, is shaped by patterns and processes that

weave the components of life into interdependent relationship. There is not an immutable

order, as naturallaw theory interprets it, but an ordering process, as the sciences confirm (1:

239). In examining other arenas of human experience, Gustafson finds this ordering to be

present in society and culture, as weil (1: 262). The forces that sustain life "change over the

course of human evolution, and of historical, social, cultural, and personal development" (1:

240). It is important to understand that this change is not radical; it is mediated through

patterns and processes which are generally orderly (2: 293). While humans need a certain

level of stability in order to function, we do not aim for stagnation; humans change and

grow. Through patterns and processes God both enables us in our possibilities and places

limitations upon us; what is required is a basic conforming to the existing ordering process.

20

Because of our interdependence with the world, the slightest change at one level causes a

pattern of change that goes out to all other levels. Hence, our capacity for action must be

carefully monitored.

When Gustafson speaks of ordering, however, he does not equate this with

harmonizing. In rus description of the world he notes that the goods we all seek are

incommensurate (1: 95).20 11ris is true not only for humans, but also for all of creation; what

is good for the predator is not good for the prey. Hence, not only do our goods conflict at

present, but there is no possible way of reconciling them all. The fact that a mechanism for

the ordering of the world comes through life forms competing for their respective goods

causes Gustafson to doubt that a harmonious telos is within whatever purposes the creator

mayhave.

ln fact, since a God's-eye view of the whole of things is not possible, Gustafson

cannot articulate a detailed metaphysics of this ordering (1: 308). Since Kant, moral

philosophy has tended to avoid metaphysics, considering it something inaccessible to natural

reason, and Gustafson has no wish to dispute trus or make special daims for biblical

revelation (1: 76 and 2: 97).21 If there is an objective order of things surrounding the patterns

and processes of life, or a detenninative intention behind them, we cannot verify its

existence or nature from our limited perspective. What is observable in the world includes

cultures that are too relative and nature that is too dynamic to support such a construction

(1: 258). Gustafson, then, avoids strict metaphysical argumentation because held up against

scientific reason it is un justifiable. He also admits,

1 am certain that my project would be developed more rigorously if 1 were a better philosopher, but 1 am equally certain that some fundamental assumptions made and defended by many moral philosophers cannot be sustained on the basis of the theology 1 have delineated (2: 4).

Gustafson's program is not empty of philosophy; he does view aIl things as good and the

nature of value as relational. It is simply that rigorous philosoprucal argumentation is not

used as an authenticating source, as might empirical reason. Since rus philosophy must flow

from rus observations of nature, Gustafson's relational metaphysics and commonsense

ontology are necessarily modest and never venture into the speculative. We should make

note, especially in view of applying theocentrism to secular culture, that this treatment of

philosophy has given other theologians cause to view Gustafson's program as moving too

far into secularism and compromising Christian theology.22 Critics might say the only reason

21

one can move from theocentrism to secularism is because theocentrism is very seculat to

begin with.

In fact. much thought has gone into the neglect of this element by Gustafson's

critics. Some go so far as to say the lack of metaphysics undercuts the theological basis of

theocentric ethics.23 Robert Audi, described by Gustafson as his helpful interpreter. has

proposed an amendment to theocentrism that he believes would be congruent with the

objectives of the program.24 Epistemological fallibility is something that should indeed be

admitted, as Gustafson does, but this fallibilism should receive its context from a belief in an

ontological reality, as is the case in naturallaw theory. In other words, Audi proposes that

there is an objective moral order to which we can attempt to align our epistemological

convictions, though it is true that we are not entirely adequate to the task of disceming this

order.25 He presses the point by saying that humanity is approaching the level of univers al

scientific truths, that we are coming closer to a true perception of a realistic ontology, and so

we can also admit some univers al human ideals and moral truths. Thus, science does not

require that we doubt an objective metaphysical reality, as Gustafson would claim. Perhaps

his reason for pursuing this is that Gustafson's aim is to explain how things really and

ultimately are. However, the lack of perception of any objective order of things precludes

hypotheses about it; it is not a gap in our knowledge that willlater be filled in. As we noted

in our introduction, God and God's purposes are not objects of empirical study. If an

objective moral order exists, it is a category that is completely unknown to humanity because

it is not within our experience. What is asserted epistemologically cannot have as its basis

what is unknowable or unexperienced, and so, Gustafson cannot presume an objective

moral order to back up his subjective epistemology. He would prefer to make the assertion

that epistemology is a fallible effort because what is perceived as real and ultimate is not

immutable or objective. This means theocentrism comes to no solid conclusions about the

direction or larger purposes of the patterns and processes of life. Though patterns and

processes are visible, a complete description of them eludes us because of the macroscopic

and microscopic breadth to take in, and because of the dynamic character of life. Even so,

while timeless essence is not something perceived in reality, a general continuity is available

to us, and so we can perceive an ordering that is continuaI and not an immutable or

objective order. If Gustafson were to indicate that our observations of the world, through

experience and science, would eventually come to reveal the existence of an objective moral

22

order, or a telos of alllife, he would be giving in to scientism, or the idea of science being the

way to the perfection of humanity. Science is not the means to human omniscience; it

cannot open us up to categories, like speculative metaphysics, that are not accessible to our

experience. Rather, existence as a whole is a mystery that we perceive but cannot entirely

explain.

By bis own admission, then, Gustafson' s efforts to explain how some things really

and ultimately are is a relative description that can be appropriated or rejected according the

experience and perspective of the reader. He does not posit a description that can be

considered closer to an objective truth than others, though he is persuaded by it and hopes

to persuade others. He admits, frankly, that

experience is deeply informed by traditions, by contemporary events in culture and society, by scientific and other intellectual enterprises of the modern world; one is not talking about ~l sensations. The best one can expect to do is speak honestIy for oneself, with some confidence that one's own experience is not utterly unique but similar to that of a significant number of persons.26

The criticism has been made that Gustafson cannot posit the world as reliable

enough to be the source of a descriptive foundation that teaches how to order lives and

actions, while at the same cime considering the world to be too dynamic for us to conceive

of a teloS.27 On the other hand, it may be possible for the system to be both reliable and

changing, at least from our own time and space limited perspective. Again, there is a

dynamism to the world, but not all is in flux.28 Patterns and processes have consistency along

with a capacity to flow (1: 239). Some things are fundamentally reliable, such as reality being

jointIy sustaining and threatening, and the fact that what is good for one infringes upon what

is good for another. Indeed, over the course of the existence of the human species, many

elements of our observations of the world will not change. However, teleological

implications are not available from such observations, since patterns and processes do not

seem to lead in a single direction. On the other hand, the status of good in nature, wbich

spreads to aU things, does provide us with the moral consideration that our view of what is

good must be expanded, since there is more than one good and all goods are both

interdependent and incommensurate.

This ontology reveals that Gustafson agrees with Calvin's injunction not to seek

God's essence, but to learn what is possible through the observation of God's creation (1:

189). Apart from the problem of metaphysics, the difficulty with constructing the character

23

or identity of God is that this tends to anthropomorphize God: ultimate reality is not

conducive to the categories of classification available to the human mind, and so theology

can never be literal but only metaphorical (1: 32f). Theology must have some content,

though, and Gustafson devdops what he calls a "restricted" theology (1: 195). He is able to

accomplish this by recognizing that God is not completely transcendent but present in the

world. Gustafson defines God as "the power that bears down upon us, sus tains us, sets an

ordering of relationsrups, provides conditions of possibilities for human activity and even a

sense of direction" (1: 264; cf. 2: 293). What he does say of God conforms to what he can

say about nature. He does not advocate pantheism; God is not in everything. However, God

can be consttued as being among everything.

The description of the divine is founded upon God's general benevolence toward

creation, since God is the source of aIl possibilities (1: 202). There are "indicators of the

divine sustenance and govemance discernible in the necessary conditions, the prerequisites

for life" (1: 240).29 But benevolence, like the good, is measured from God's perspective, not

from that of humanity. The idea of general benevolence does not entail particular

beneficence, since God is also the source of alllimitations (1: 272). God both preserves and

destroys. The ordering accomplished through God does not result in balance or harmony, as

Gustafson clearly points out in rus work on environmental ethics.30 The romantic notion of

equilibrium is not a condition he observes in natural or cultural spheres. It is for this. reason

that the idea of telos also is not feasible. The complaint of rus critics is that this results in a

God who does not clearly identify with good over evil, and who is liable to be posited

. h . 31 agamst umaruty.

While Gustafson allows for human anger in reaction to those things that apparently

disorder the order we try to create out of life, he maintains the idea, given rus own

understanding of the Euthyphro debate, that we are to consider God's good as beyond our

inunediate scope (1: 203f). This is evident when we perceive that those occasions wruch

seem to result in disordering, such as a forest lire, are actually part of the ordering of a larger

process. God's good, then, has both positive and negative consequences for us. In

addressing the problem of evil we must not neglect the fact that God is posited as the source

or condition of possibilities, not the direct agent of all actualities. Later, we will explore

further the idea of human as agent, but at this point we must state that God's ordering is

seen in tandem with humanity's contribution to the process. Thus, the cultural conditions

24

that gave birth to the Holocaust were radically dependent upon the possibilities that rose

with God's ordering; more direcdy, though, they were the result of human attempts at

ordering. What this means is that divine ordering must be applied to more than the

flourishing of the life we know; it may also relate to life we do not know, the life apart from

this earth. The good must be considered good from the perspective of the divine, though it

may not always be apparent to US.32 In this way, the theological distinctions between good

and evil are made obsolete.33

Typically in Christian theology God is thought to be a personal agent and is given

specifie tides or roles that oudine this agency, such as king, redeemer, and father. God's

nature is then understood through these roles and activities. But Gustafson rejects the

concept of divine agency for two primary and connected reasons. He must react against the

anthropocentric motivation behind centralizing and divinizing the human capacity for

intention and agency. As weIl, modern scientific naturalism does not support this idea. We

have dealt with much of the content of the second reason, and now we turn to that of the

first. According to Gustafson, God's relationship to us "is not centered on action so much

as on power and order.,,34 Recall the shift from history to nature that Gustafson makes in

understanding God's activity. No other descriptive language or roles are placed upon God in

the definitional sense, though analogies of agency cannot help but surface from cime to cime.

Gustafson develops a theology around the tides of creator, sustainer, governor, judge, and

redeemer. While it is not within our scope to develop each of these here, it should be said

that these tides amount to a very Ioose construction based on traditional Reformed

metaphors for God. Gustafson wams that these should not be mistaken for a humanization

or personalization of the divine. According to his own restrictions, he develops an analogy

of divine agency with circumspection. His primary concern is to avoid a picture of a God

who has intelligence and a will "like but superior to our own" (1: 270).35 He aligns himself

with Tillich in the claim that humans can be personally related to God without conceiving of

God as a person (1: 271). Patterns and processes of interdependence are impersonal, but

many of the beings within them are personal, to one degree or other. Therefore, we have

personal responses to the impersonal powers that sustain us and bear down upon us.

This is quite dissatisfying to Gustafson's critics. Gene Outka and Gordon Kaufman

daim that Gustafson's Reformed metaphors create indications that are too personal for a

nonpersonal God, and that his attempts to remain connected to this tradition only hinder his

25

efforts.36 Altemately, Hartt recogruzes that the verbs Gustafson associates with God's

activity are inherendy suggestive of a process directed to the flourishing of the whole.37 But

Gustafson would find it difficult to make this daim with any certainty for reasons already

evident. We are not given the scope necessary to detetmine the nature of God's purposes.

However, this does bring us to the distinction Gustafson draws between purpose and

intention, a point in rus thought that is, regrettably, underdeveloped. He observes that divine

ordering does not warrant teleological direction: "At most one might say that a 'govemance'

is occur:ring. . . . And it warrants the affinnation within piety that the powers and the

ultimate power are ordering; they are not purely contingent or chaotic" (1: 262). So, when

Gustafson speaks of the purposes of God rus point is not to speculate on God's will. In fact,

rus theology is an attempt to depersonalize the work of God. He does this by oudining a

kind of spectrum between purposes and intention. Humans and other animals can have

purposes, but humans have intentions in a way other animals do not (1: 270). Gustafson is

not comprehensive in explaining what he means by this, but he imparts the affirmation that

humans have a unique capacity for a process of deliberation and reasoning with regard to

means and ends, and a widened sense of the meaning and consequences of certain actions

(1: 286). This distinction means that humans have an ethical responsibility not found among

other forms of life.38 Gustafson's point in dissociating God from intentionality is not to say

that God is not as "evolved" as humanity, though rus critics often lead in this direction.39

Since evolution is not a process that is directed or progressive, but simply one of change and

adaptation, the human trait of rationality is not something ab ove instinct or even

noncognition. Purposes, then, are represented in the nonrational pattems and processes

found in the world, wruch, as Gustafson comments to critics, have the role in rus theology of

indicating the reality of functional interdependence, rather than the promise of a telos.40

However, the problem stillieft, as Audi points out, is that even those life forms that

are limited to purposeful activity have, in some sense, a will.41 If God is considered

purposeful, must God not also then have a will and, consequendy, associated

responsibilities? Again, in response to this we can draw upon what ha.s already been

indicated: if God has a will, its content is inaccessible to human ways of knowing; and if we

can even speculate upon God's responsibilities, we must limit this to an understanding that

what is good is broader than we ourselves are aware. In a transcribed dialogue between

Gustafson and Audi, Gustafson responds that he does not want to lead interpreters of

26

theocentric ethics toward the image of a God who is responsible for every action upon US.42

For instance, if the limb of a tree fails on a person's head, this is not to be seen as an

intended action of God. Motivating Gustafson's approach is a desire to avoid both the

cause-and-effect mechanistic view of God, charactenzed by Edwards, and the immediate

causal agency of a God present in particular events, characterized by Calvin (1: 282). Audi's

solution is to consider God as both an agent and personal, while also setting the divine apart

from humanity in such a way that God is not understood to be simply a more perfect

pers on. What Audi wants to do, and what he believes Gustafson wants to do, is to make

God ultimate without making God an impossible conception. God may be fundamentally

different from us: ccwhereas we know the world through perception, God perhaps knows it

in some direct way; and whereas we control events through the insttumentality of our bodily

movement, God's actions are perhaps ail basic.,,43 However, in defence of Gustafson, we

might remark that whether or not God is like us is not the basic issue; the primary concem is

that we cannot know in what ways God is like or unlike us, and so we cannot create God in

our own unage.

This conversation can benefit from reviewing the way in wruch anthropomorprusm

is used in the sciences. Mary Midgley writes on this point, showing her awareness of the

anthropomorpruc tendencies that work in both theology and the human and animal

sciences.44 However, she views the trend as something positive or, at least, indispensable. Ail

new knowledge is built upon the categories we have created previously, and this foilows

when we regard an object other than ourselves. The self is put in the position of the other in

order to acrueve a basic comprehension of the motives and actions of that other. Thus, if

one did not in some way anthropomorphize nonhuman life ccthen one could not say

anything about the life of animals.,,45 Sciences such as behavioural psychology employa quite

disciplined kind of anthropomorphizing. Human concepts must be used in order to

understand the nonhuman, though it is recognized that this does not entail viewing the value

of the nonhuman in relation to its likeness to humanity. Constructions that are

anthropogenic need not be anthropocentric. Nor does this require _ that we refrain from

recognizing those aspects of nonhuman life that are unlike human life. We are to appreciate

that the categories by wruch we understand and describe our humanity are ultimately

inadequate to describe what is nonhuman. This kind of anthropomorphizing refers, then,

not to the nature of the life fotm itself, but of our perception of it.46 When looking at a dark

27

sky one might describe it as brooding or angry, though it is clear that the sky does not

actually possess these feelings. Therefore, when Gustafson speaks of God's agency,

govemance, or purpose, it might be said that he is using these categories as ways to describe

bis perception of the actions upon him, rather than taking such descriptions to be

ontologically real. Still, he can use them because they are functional and because he

detetmines them to be as close as possible to the truth he can perceive but not describe. So,

while we can say that Gustafson's God is radically Other, this God is not totally alien; after

aIl, humans acquire interpretations of God in relation to God's creation. God's othemess

does not mean that God has no recognition of human distinctiveness. In fact, Gustafson

includes within the purview of God's ordering the domains of culture and society (1: 209-

25). It is just that, as far as we can observe, God does not share in these distinct attributes.

If, Gustafson has written retrospectively, there is any major difficulty that results

from the exclusion of divine agency in theocentrism, it is that this position dis tracts

theologically minded readers from the more important conclusion of relating piety to the

morallife.47 "The basic principle of divine governance at least warrants careful reflection for

purposes of ethics and openness to indicators of what is required from many sources" (1:

189). In recognition of this, we will bring this connection into sharper focus in our second

chapter.

We direct attention now to an apparendy problematic element in Gustafson's

theology, that of monotheism. This is important to discuss not only for its own sake, but

also because Gustafson's conclusions here will prepare us for what might otherwise seem

like a leap he will make in including religious piety among bis theological sources. To begin

by discerning and responding to the patterns and processes of the interdependence of life

and to then go on to discern and respond to a single Other is, admittedly, not a rational

consequence of Gustafson's position (1: 136). His own step toward monotheism comes

from two main sources. First, monotheism is a principle of the Reformed theology that has

shaped ms experience of God. This is compounded by the idea that experience is a unity;

perceiving one God is the best way to express th~ unity among these experiences he senses.

However, neither of these reasons indicates that the move to monotheism is necessary

within theocentrism.

In fact, when we consider Gustafson's sources, we might find it more likely that he

would develop a polytheistic theology. Observing various purposes, powers, patterns, and

28

processes in the world seems to lead naturally to the belie~ in more than one God. Gustafson

adroits this freely, saying, "The problem 1 have shapedis how to account for the experience

of God in and through the particular affective experiences. . . . The empiricism of the

approach leaves, accurately, the impression of pluralism" (1: 226). At the same rime,

theology is more than a linguistic-inteIlectual activity. There are ideas that come not from

logical reason, nor from empirical data, but through the perception of what is unseen:

Arguments are made that do not foIlow the strictest mIes of formallogic but which commend themselves as reasonable ways to deal with the realities of religious life. External observers with sufficient empathy might comprehend the arguments but not be persuaded by them. Their persuasiveness is relative to piety .... [Ibeology] is a knowing activity, though the tests of its validity are not those of solid-state physics (1: 229).

We cao best label Gustafson's monotheism as the perception of a unity of purposes

in the ordering of things, though it must again be emphasized that this unity or order does

not exist for the sake of a projected harmonious end.48 People experience and respond to

many dis crete things and events, but this does not preclude the perception of many that

there is one religious object from which aIl things are derived (1: 206). For this reason,

Christian theologies do not speak of many Gods but of the many roles of God. And so,

Gustafson cao explain, if not justify, his understanding of monotheism by reference to his

tradition. What this means is that he can posit no hard position against polytheism (1: 196).

At this point we can agree with an interpretation offered by William J. Meyer, who

claims that Gustafson assumes H. Richard Niebuhr's distinction between inner and outer

history.49 Outer history is that which is objectively seen by the outsider. This might include

scientific ways of knowing and phenomenal objects. In contrast, inner history is that which

is subjectively experienced by individuals or interpreted by subjective groups. Under this

category sit the church and noumenal objects. Objectively, we can say that the sources of our

affective responses are many, that there are dis crete experiences to which we relate.

However, subjectively, or by interpreting objects and events through inner history, many

claim the perception that behind this nature there is one God. This perception is not proven,

and God can only be claimed as phenomenally real from a confessional perspective-a

"soft" claim, as Gustafson would say. But this claim does stand alongside outer history as a

confessional perspective of piety (1: 120).

29

Though we have not exhausted the subject of Gustafson's sense of the divine, we

have lifted out those elements important to the task of relating theocentrism to secular

philosophy and ethics. Among these are God's ordering, othemess, and oneness. In

addition, we have arrived at a place at which we can make the move to talk about the human

response to God, that of religious piety. The leap to monotheism, which is an unnecessary

but a valid choice, para1lels the leap to piety from religious affections.

Religious Piety

Perhaps we do Gustafson an injustice by neglecting an explanation of piety until this

point. He considers piety to be the primary move and assumption of theology and religion

(1: 61,201, and 25.8). However, throughout our description we have left room for Gustafson

to invite ways of knowing outside the empirical vein of the sciences. The most important

nonempirical way of knowing is religious piety. Piety does not prove the existence of God;

rather, it shows that a belief in God is plausible. Gustafson is careful to measure the

conclusions of piety against empirical ways of knowing, according to rus own guidelines, and

thus his conclusions have their checkpoints. This is why he can say that piety allows humans

to believe in the existence of the divine, but it does not provide sufficient cause for belief in

a personal God or divine teleological plan.

Piety, as Gustafson uses the term, tends to be interpreted through religion and then

refined through theological doctrine, since theology is reflection on experience, not on the

supematural (1: 134). As theology is persuasive oruy to our religious affections, and not

empirical reason, piety is required in order for us to be influenced by theology (1: 195). Piety

is primary to our description of experience because of the way it affects our orientation and

disposition in viewing the world. It is not an unnatural or a self-generated state but a

response to an Other (1: 165). Gustafson's piety does not refer to piousness or

sanctimoniousness. "It is a settled disposition, a persistent attitude toward the world and

ultimately toward God. It takes particular colorings or tones in particular circumstances, but

awe and respect are ~e fundamental and persisting characteristics of piety" (1: 201). As a

response to the divine, it is an affection, along the same lines as Edwards's religious

affections, which include a sense of dependence on, respect, and gratitude for what is given

(1: 61). Other senses do exist within piety, but these three are fundamental. Though

something of an original device, Gustafson's piety has its roots in the Reformed tradition,

30

and he quo tes Calvin to reinforce his point: "For until men recogruze that they owe

everything to God, . . . that he is the Author of their every good, that they should seek

nothing beyond him-they will never yield him willing service" (quoted in 1: 164f).

Where other theologians centre the human response to God on the idea of faith,

Gustafson chooses to use the term religious piety. Faith, he writes, is a "weasel word" in that

it designates different meanings to different theologians. To continue to use it as a central

concept might be safe in the eyes of his colleagues, but he prefers to use an altemate tenn so

that he may be precise in his meaning. Piety is chosen instead of faith on three grounds (1:

201 ff). The first is that faith is often contrasted with reason, both by insiders and outsiders

of the Christian tradition. This is a false distinction, in Gustafson's view, because the basis

for aU our knowledge has already been defined as unified experience. He notes also that

there are precedents in the tradition for avoiding such a distinction; Edwards, for example,

did not separate faith or affections from critical thinking (1: 191). Nevertheless, for the sake

of darity, Gustafson considers piety to indude both reason and affection. In addition to

reason, faith is often contrasted with unfaith, or a lack of confidence. Among those

theologians who adopt this dichotomy is H. Richard Niebuhr.50 Gustafson would like to

avoid defining faith as confidence in God in order to underscore the point that God is

neither our debtor nor a power on which humans can depend to meet all needs and wants.

Piety, in contras t, indudes only a measured confidence in God. The term faith also does not

explicidy include the awe that can be expressed in fear or anger to the deity. Instead,

theologians like Niebuhr have emphasized human loyalty to God. NaturaUy, if loyalty to

God is met with special concem for humanity on the part of God, then this is

understandable. However, this equation is not feasible in Gustafson's experience, and while

he wishes humans to consent to the divine ordering, loyalty does not go unquestioned and

faith is not blind:

If piety is understood primarily in terms of awe and respect, there is a place in the religious affections for both an attraction toward the powers of God and an aversion to them; both a love for God, the giver of the possibilities for value and meaningin life, and fear and anger in the face of conditions which frustrate human aspirations and threaten or deny human life (1: 203f).

Elsewhere he writes that piety is not always comforting to the pious (1: 190).

Having noted this, Gustafson does want to retain other qualities of faith under the

term of piety. Piety includes faithfulness to God, which means that awe, respect, and honour

31

make up the substance of the response of a person to God and God's ordering: <'Faith, as

excessive trust, puts God primarily in the service of humans. Faithfulness puts human beings

in the service of God" (1: 203). Unlike the quality of faith as loyalty, faithfulness to divine

ordering is a reasoned consent to God's ordering, and not unquestioning obedience or

resignation. Gustafson understands that while fear and anger have a place within our

response to the divine, they are not the primary emotions directed by the pious person.51

Consent entails an attempt to view ordering in as broad a scope as possible. It also includes

the moral obligation to attempt to order one's affections and loyalties to fit this ordering, a

point we will examine in further detail in our second chapter (1: 315). It refers to our general

attitude or disposition toward God and creation, so it includes a readiness to act that is

inspired and determined by our affections (1: 195 and 2: 283). Piety, then, is not only crucial

to Gustafson's theology and ethics; it acts as the link between God's ordering and our moral

lives (1: 167; cf. 1: 191).

Piety is also defined as a certain consciousness or aWareness of things, having much

control over our perception of experience. With Richard R. Niebuhr and Julian N. Hartt

Gustafson asserts that religion is a response-though not the only one-to the condition of

being totally affected (1: 196f). Affections or senses, like experience, are prior to religiosity,

and religion is the result of an attempt to relate our affections back to their source. Our

religious interpretations of things come only after we are affected by an Other or others.

This response includes the desire to <'do something" about the Other which has first <'done

something" to us. Gustafson follows Edwards in saying that religion is largely a matter of

affectivity (1: 287).52 Affective responses include senses, attitudes, dispositions, and emotions

(1: 198). The emotions of affectivity are not noruational and unsetded, but they have the role

of being govemed by our other capacities. This explains why Gustafson can ascribe to a Free

Church understanding of theology. Like the cycle of experience and description that acts as a

self-correcting process, religious affections are always to be measured and informed by

biblical research, human experience, and scientific data (1: 201). Even so, religions provide

insights not always available to other ways of construing the world:

They share some common recognitions of the human circumstance in relation to that which is beyond human control. They share certain affections and dispositions toward whatever is-moments of awe, reverence, fear, gratitude, guilt, and liberation. However they articulate that which is beyond the means of scientific investigation and proof, they nonetheless sense the reality of its presence. This is the moment, the rime, and the point at which the religious consciousness moves beyond what

32

radically secular pers ons feel. 1bis is the step or the leap which distinguishes the religious consciousness from the secular (1: 135).

Gustafson provides a list of the senses that make up religious affectivity. Though it is

not exhaustive, he covers what he believes to be essential (1: 130-34). First is the sense of

dependence that we have noted. We are radically dependent not ooly on nature, but also on

society, culture, history, and others. What this means is that no matter what weproduce or

how we improve, humanity has come from something it did not create, and individual

humans have arisen from other individual humans and the larger culture. 1bis is in line with

the general theological tradition and, Gustafson hopes, the understanding of life espoused by

most people. Along with the sense that life is given comes a sense of gratitude. It is ooly

fitting that we be grateful for the goods or benefits that come from those things upon which

we depend. This, too, Gustafson considers a general and natural sentiment; even though life

can be painful, the fact that suicide rates are low in relation to the population suggests that

humans think it is still better to live than to not live. The sense of gratitude becomes

important to the human understanding of morality, and leads to a sense of obligation. We

are obliged to others who have given us what we have. But life is not ooly dependent; it is

also interdependent and held together by mutual obligation. This, Gustafson notes, is

something that is present in aIl major religions.

He goes on from here to include a sense of remorse or repentance, the root of which

is a feeling of having done something wrong or not fulfilling some ideal. While this is very

strong in Christian theology, it is aiso necessarily part of the experience of most humans.

Though too much guilt can be harmful, the lack of this sense disrupts community life and

interdependence. For this reason, Gustafson laments the fact that guilt is largely undiscussed

by secular moral philosophers. Most religions prescribe ideais that are not always met, but

which have the effect of maintaining standards for community cohesion. Guilt, however,

must be balanced out by a sense of possibility. What we do in the present, though dependent

upon the past, can alter the circumstances that have come out of the pasto Iike the Christian

idea of new life, aIl major religions leave some room for human accountability and action,

even if they are weighted toward determinism. It is this reality that gives Gustafson reason to

consider God as generally benevolent: "God is for man, in the sense that the possibilities of

any human flourishing are dependent upon what we have received and on forces that are not

ultimately under our control" (1: 182). The sense of possibility means that we are not fated

33

to a certain telos but are open in anticipation to hope.53 We must be careful in our hoping,

however, that we do not fall into the trap of feeling a sense of assurance about the future.

Newness is possible, but not the kind that leads to perfection or infinite progress (1: 310f).54

Though Gustafson is agnostic about eschatology or God's direction, he includes a

sense of direction within religious affectivity. This direction is our own orientation to a

supreme end or purpose, which is present· to some extent in aU human communities in the

fotm of social or political goals. Through change we aim toward a certain ideal or

improvement. While we are not to have faith in human perfection, it is important to human

nature that we continue to grow. Most religions take this up eschatologically. But Gustafson

cannot determine the best human end, and can orny say that our ultimate purpose may be to

honour, serve, and glorify God (1: 113).

As he is able to draw comparisons in the secular world to each of these senses,

Gustafson can make the daim that religion is not unnatural, but simply a particular construal

of these senses:

It is not the presence of affectivity that makes particular attitudes religious, but the object of the affectivity. The affectivity that "becomes" religious, however, is a response to very particular events and objects; in the religious consciousness these objects and events are perceived to be ultimately related to the powers that sustain us and bear down upon us, to the Ultimate Power on which aU of life depends. The rise of the affections that become religious within basic piety and within a theological construing of the world is illustrated not orny to clarify the argument but also to evoke empathy for what 1 believe is involved in religious life (1: 195f).

This point is inspired by William James, whose psychological interpretation of religion led

him to as sert that there is nothing psychologically distinct about religious affections among

human affections, and that there is no single religious emotion or object (cited in 1: 206).55

Religious affections, then, are not discordant with regular affections. It is simply that in

certain individuals the "religious consciousness," at some point, understands the affectivities

and their ultimate object to have religious value. As we noted in our introduction, the same

experience, whether of nature, history, culture, society, or the self, can be construed

religiously and nonreligiously by two different individuals or groups of people. However,

Gustafson uses these arenas quite differendy than most theologians. For him, experience

does not indude a particular sense of the powers of God ordering nature. Rather, what we

experience direcdy in nature evokes affectivities that can gain religious consequence for us

34

(1: 208).56 Thus, experience is not direcdy of God, but of distinct and dis crete encounters

with the patterns and processes of the interdependence of life.

This opens up the possibility of a piety that is not overdy religious. In certain

individuals, the world is consttued with a respect for and orientation toward what is greater

than the self or the human, including the senses of gratitude for and obligation to what is

given. Gustafson considers tlùs not religious but natural piety (1: 159 and 165).57 In a sense,

natural piety is more primary than religious piety, since the latter includes an additional

theological consttual of the object of affection (1: 159). It also bears a resemblance to

Roman Catholic natural theology, which is considered available to all, though Gustafson

distinguishes the two sharply in ways we will discuss in our second chapter. At present, it is

sufficient to observe that he acknowledges that natural piety, while not overdy theological or

even religious, can provide a foundation for etlùcs quite similar to theocentric ethics.

ReJating God and Humanity

The fact that Gustafson does not invest in direct divine revelation does not prevent

him from devoting two lengthy chapters in his fust volume of Ethics from a Theocentric

Perspective to the relationship between humanity and God. It is through piety that individuals

relate themselves properly to the divine. The awe of and respect for God that occurs

through piety allows humans to consent to a life of faithfulness to God. W orshiping God as

God is not the result of gratitude for special favours or sentimental attachment to a larger,

perfect version of humanity. In piety we relate ourselves to God simply as part of God's

creation. This is not to say that Gustafson does not wish to uphold the idea that human well­

being is sustained by the ultimate power or that humans have a particular distinctiveness

within creation. The material point is that humans, though unique, exist within a creation

containing other unique life forros. In theocentrism, God's presence is expanded from

human history to nature (1: 96). In this shift, Gustafson does not aim to denigrate humanity

as creation. In fact, he wishes to improve our understanding of where our uniquenesslies (1:

290). Humans may have special responsibilities according to our distinctive capabilities, but

this does not set us apart as the crown of creation.

It is at tlùs point especially that Gustafson refers to the thought of Mary Midgley. He

includes her question of what distinguishes humanity from animaIs, and follows her

correction that the question should be rephrased to ask what distinguishes humanity among

35

the animals (1: 282).58 Midgley develops this by pointing out that our nature is not

disconnected from the nature of other life forms, as if humanity were a dis crete creation and

not a product of evolution. Human life rises up within nature, and so much of what we are

finds its likeness in the traits of other animals.59 This reinforces Gustafson's notion of the

relationship of radical dependence and interdependence among humans and the rest of

creation. Our very existence is dependent upon a long line of evolution and continues to be

in relation to that from which we have risen. If this is the case, humans do play a distinct

part within creation, just as other aspects of creation have their distinct places. This aUows us

to affirm each part of creation, saying, "ail things are 'good,' not just good for us" (1: 109).

Our relationship to God includes a valuation of both ourselves and other aspects of

creation that is fitting when we consider our relations to the divine. Gustafson posits this as

his primary imperative for human life and action: 'We are to relate ourselves and aU things in

a manner appropriate to their relations to God" (1: 327). This is the outworking of the

orientation toward God that is shaped by piety. Disordering these relationships, then, is

Gustafson's way of reinterpreting sin, a reinterpretation that has an Augustinian flavour. He

adopts sorne fust-order theological terms when he describes that disordering can occur in

two ways (1: 243). First, it can be the result of pride; that is, we can disorder relationships by

overstepping the proper limitations placed upon them. In other words, humans tend to

disorder their relationship to God and creation by self-aggrandizement. Sloth, too, can be

the cause of disordering. When we are deficient in our participation in caring for other

persons, society, culture, and nature, we become disordered in our responsibilities within

relationships. In continuity with Reformed theology, Gustafson states that both the prideful

and the slothful ways of disordering demonstrate that individuals curve in toward their own

immediate interests (1: 8). We can drift toward this improper orientation because of the

nature of human finitude. Aside from our fatedness to death, humans are limited in two

major ways (1: 13). Though we have responsibility for the consequences of our actions, we

lack sufficient foreknowledge to be able to be certain about what their outcomes will be.

Humans also lack the capacity to control events, and this lies in tension with the ability to

participate in shaping the future. So, though we can act responsibly and effectively, our

limitations are not eliminated by our awareness or our efforts. Often, the uncertainty caused

by this dialectical relationship of capacity and finitude leads individuals to neglect larger

responsibilities and remain focused on personal, immediate needs. 1bis is the human fault,

36

which "keeps us from proper understanding of our proper relations by contracting our trusts

and loyalties, our loves and desires, our rational construing of the world, and our moral

interests .... The fault is universal" (1: 306).

ln order to prevent this fault and the disordering that results, Gustafson caUs us to

be more conscious of the fact that we are limited in our being and doing (1: 12). Our finitude

is compensated through an enlargement of our scope of vision. Though we will never see aIl,

we must not place additional limitations on ourselves by restricting our scope to ourselves.

When we consider what is of value and what lies within the domain of our responsibility, we

must include the cosmos. This results in a reorientation, something that will become central

to Gustafson's ethical concems. He describes it by drawing on H. Richard Niebuhr's

concept of "metanoia" or conversion (1: 192f).60 For Niebuhr, a person alters the world by

altering bis or her vision of it; the result is that one's loyalties and values are reordered

accordingly. Gustafson advocates for a conversion to a theocentric vision of the world,

which includes expanding our scope to that which is beyond the human. This is also a

conversion to an enlargement of human interests, creating a broader base for ethical concem

(1: 307). To use a phrase of Nietzsche, there must be a "transvaluation of values" which

holds God to be of ultimate value and through which everything else is seen in relation to

God (1: 311). Eisewhere Gustafson has written, "It demands what the tradition caUs

repentance and salvation. 1 am, more radically than my critics, a conversionist in religion and

morals.,,61 Conversion is not enough to solve aU the practical problems of ordering, but nor

are any other religious conversions or their secular equivalents. Conversion, though

inadequate in itself, is still an important and necessary step (1: 307). This reinterpretation of

redemption has the quality of being very human-driven, though its root is in God.

Upon recognizing the divine ordering, metanoia begins with the pietistic attitude of

consent:

ln that consenting we gain insight into the purposes of God. One such insight is that fidelity does not lead to what we ordinarily and immediately perceive to be a human good, but that what is of human value must be sacrificed for the sake of the purposes of God (1: 278).

As Lisa Sowle Cabill notes, Gustafson is no Sisyphus, etemally rolling his rock up the bill

and laughing at his fate.62 Nor is Gustafson's conception of the world typical of

philosophical Stoicism. Rather, consent implies concurrence and not an involuntary yielding.

Gustafson describes it as "an inward disposition which alters our sense of participation.'>63 It

37

is at thls juncture that he introduces Jesus Christ in his theology. Gustafson has a very low

Christology; his comments on the role of Jesus are limited to the characterization of him as

an "incarnation of theocentric pietyand fidelity" (1: 277). Jesus provides Christians with an

example that helps sustain their efforts to be theocentric. The consent of Jesus to God's

ordering, which is demonstrated particularly tlu:oughout Holy Week, shows us how we may

consent, rather than resign ourselves, to God (1: 278). This Christology, hammered out in

four pages, is obviously a minimalist treatment of Christ, and is only proliferated by a

doctrine of redemption focused on human, rather than divine, action (1: 247-51).

Nonetheless, Gustafson supports his Christology weIl, claiming that every theologian has a

selective use of biblical materials in constructing Christology, and one that is determined by

the particular issue she wishes to address tlu:oughout her entire theology (1: 275). Gustafson

is no different; it is simply that he wishes to posit Christ as a gadfly against the

antlu:opocentric Christian beliefs that make humanity the centre of God's plan and

individual salvation the centre of the scriptures. As weIl, his selection is indicative of his aim

to divorce theocentric Christianity from anything scriptural that is incommensurate with

common expenence.

As might be expected, thls Christology is not appreciated by his critics. Gilbert

Meilaender has commented that Gustafson is not so much theocentric as he is

nonChristocentric.64 However, the central problem is not that Gustafson's Christology is

low; many theologians offer low Christologies. The difficulty lies in the fact that a low

Christology is compounded by a nonpersonal portrayal of God, and so humans are left with

no way to establish an intimate relationship with the divine. It is this that upsets and repels

Gustafson's critics. We might add that his portrayal of Christ as a theocentric example might

be more convincing to the reader if the section of work he devotes to the practical examples

of theocentric ethics were to contain more frequent or explicit references to Christ. Further

interpreters of Gustafson's theology would do weIl to find ways of expanding on his

Christological sketch that would not compromise the objectives of the program. Our

purposes do not allow us to indude thls, however, and, as Gustafson does, we leave our

examination of Christology at that.

Through our exploration of Gustafson's theocentric theology, we have arrived at a

position where we can recognize that his understanding of God and God's continuaI

ordering of the world materializes primarily from experience as it comes to us tlu:ough piety

38

and empirical observation. These sources are augmented and shaped through our religious

and cultural traditions and corporate experiences. The theological aim is to focus on God,

the object, while doing this from the perspective of humanity, the subject. This is the only

perspective available to us. In so doing, we must be careful not to reverse the positions of

the subject and object, and thereby confuse themethod with the goal. Gustafson's own use

of the se sources leads to thé conclusion that belief in the divine is an appropriate response to

experience, though one never fully validated scientifically. The experience of God's ordering

also shows, through the lens of piety, that there are larger purposes at work in the world

than our own. Iivingin fitting relationship to God means orienting ourselves as best we cau,

even through human finitude, to such purposes. While Gustafson never shows definitive

certainty on this point, the best understanding of the place of humans within creation is that

humans are meant to serve,honour, and glorify God (1: 113). How this is worked out will be

the focus of our next chapter.

1 Gustafson, "A Response to Crities," 187. 2 Jeffrey Stout, 'The V oice ofTheology in Contemporary Culture," in Religion andAmerica: Spiritual Ufe in aS ecu/ar ~, eds. Mary Douglas and Steven TIpton (Boston: Beaeon, 1983), 257. 3 David Sehenek, "Prophecy, Polemie and Piety: Refleetions on Responses to Gustafson's Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective," Journal ofReligious Ethics 15:1 (1987),80. 4 For a discussion of this see Edward Farley, 'Theocentrie Ethies as a Genetie Argument," in James M. Gustqfson ~ Theocentric Ethics, 56 and Gustafson, ''R.esponse,'' in James M. Gustqfson~ Theocentric Ethics, 205. 5 Stephen Toulmin, ''Nature and Nature's God," 49. 6 Douglas F. Ottati, 'The Refonned Tradition in Theologieal Ethics," in Christian Ethics: Problems and Prospects, 56. 7 John P. Reeder,Jr., "The Dependence ofEthies," in James M. Gustqfson~ Theocentric Ethics, 126. See also Gustafson's ''Response to Hartt," 696f and A Sense of the Divine: The Natural Environment from a Theocentric Perspective (Cleveland: Pilgrim, 1994), 46. 8 James M. Gustafson, 'The Sectarian Temptation: Retlections on Theology, the Chureh and the University," Catho/iç Theological Sode!) of America, Proceedings of the Annual Meeting 40 (1985), 90. 9 Gustafson, "A Response to Crities," 196. 10 Julian N. Hartt, "Coneeming God and Man and His Well-being: A Commentary, Inspired by Spinoza, on Gustafson's Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective:' Soundings (W"tnter 1990), 671. 11 Gustafson, "A Response to Crities," 204. 12 For example, Yoder, 'Theologieal Revision and the Burden of Partieular Identity," 72ff and Robert N. Bellah, "Gustafson as Critie of Culture,"in James M. GUJt4son's Theocentric Ethics, 153ff. 13 Mary Midgley in discussion ofBellah fonowing his "Gustafson as Critie of Culture," 155. 14 Gustafson, An Examined Faith, 6f. Gustafson outlines a typology of ways that science and religion work together in this work, 84-95. For Mary Midgley's parallel typology see her Science as Salvation: A Modem fv!yth and Its Meaning (London and New York: Roudedge, 1992), 51-61. 15 Jonathan Edwards, Religious Affections, ed John E. Smith (New Haven: Yale University, 1959), 96. 16 James M. Gustafson, ''Tracing a Trajectory," Zygon 30:2 (June 1995), 182. 17 Farley, 'Theocentrie Ethies as a Genetie Argument," 41. 18 Ibid and Gustafson, "Afterword," in James M. GUJt4son's Theocentric Ethics, 252. 19 Fadey, "Theoeentrie Ethies as a Genetie Argument," 41. 20 Gustafson also diseusses this in ehapter two of A Sense of the Divine.

39

21 See also Gustafson, Protestant and Roman Catholie Ethies, 61 and 64, as weIl as William J. Meyer's comments in ''Ethlcs, Theism and Metaphysics: An Analysis of the Theocentric Ethlcs of James M Gustafson," International Journal for Philosopf?y of Religion 41 (1997), 149f. 22 Meyer, 150 and Gene Outka, ''R.emarks on a Theological Program Instructed by Science:' Thomirt 47 (1983),588 and 591. See also Jeffrey Stout's account of Gustafson's compromising of theology in an effort to speak to nontheists, Ethics A.fter Babel: The lAnguages ofMomls tmd Their Disrontents (Boston: Beacon, 1988), 163-188. 23 Robert Cummings Neville offers an interesting reconstruction of Gustafson's ontology and cosmology in "On the Architecture of No Man's Land: A Response to Hartt and Gustafson," Sounmngs63:4 (Wl11ter 1990), 70I. 24 Robert Audi, ''Theology, Science, and Ethics in Gustafson's Theocentric Vision," in James M. Gustafion's Theocentric Ethics: 159-85. 25 Ibid., 179. 26 James M. Gustafson, "A Theocentric Interpretation ofLife:' Christian Century (30 July-6 August 1980), 759. 27 P . Travis Kroeker, 'Theocentric Ethics and Policy," Annual of the Society of Christian Ethics 17 (1997), 23. 28 James M. Gustafson, "Ethical Issues in the Human Future," with comments by Roy Branson and Wùfred Beckerman, in How Humans Adapt: A BioculturaIOt!Jssry, ed. Donald J. Ortner (Washington: Smithsonian Institution, 1983),498. 29 Gustafson subsequently amended this idea of benevolence with the aim of discarding any personal qualities that might he associated with the tenu. See "A Response to Crities:' 199. 30 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 12. 31 Lisa Sowle Cahill, "Consent in Time of Affliction: The Ethics of a Circwnspect Theist," Journal ofReligjous Ethics 13:1 (Spring, 1985), 32; FarIey, ''Theocentric Ethics as a Genetic Argwnent," 52; and Jeffrey Stout, Ethics After Babel, 176. 32 Gustafson, ''Response to Hartt," 695. 33 Gustafson, "A Response to Critics," 199. 34 James M. Gustafson, "Alternative Conceptions of God," 64. 35 This is a concern he takes over from H. Richard Niebuhr, who outlined it in a similar way in The Meaning of Revelation (New York: Macmillan, 1962), 167. 36 Outka, ''R.emarks on a Theological Program Instructed by Science," 578 and Gordon Kaufman, "How is God to Be Understood in a Theocentric Ethics?" in James M. Gustifson's Theocentric Ethics, 3I. 37 Hartt, "Conceming God and Man and His Well-being," 683. 38 Gustafson,A Sense of the Divine, 59[ 39 For example, see Audi, 173. 40 Gustafson, ''Response,'' 215. 41 Audi, 173. 42 James M Gustafson in "Panel Discussion," in James M Gusttffson's Theocentric Ethics, 229. See also 1: 272. 43 Audi, 173. 44 Mary Mïdgley, Beast and Man: The Roofs ofHuman Nature, rev. ed. (London and New York: Roudedge, 1995),331-38. 45 Mïdgley in ''Panel Discussion," 23I. 46 Ibid., 23H. 47 James M. Gustafson, "A Brief, Unscholarly Afterword," in Christian Ethics: Problems and Prospects, 380. 48 This point is emphasized by Robert M. Adams, ''Platonism and Naturalism: Options for a Theocentric Ethics," in Ethics, Religjon, and the Good Society: New Directions in a P/uralistic World, ed. Joseph Runzo (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1992), 26f. 49 Meyer, 155f[ See also Niebuhr, The Meaning of Revelation, 44-54. 50 Niebuhr, RadicalMonotheism tmd Western Culture, 16-23. 51 Gustafson, "A Response to Critics," 199. 52 Edwards, 95. 53 James M Gustafson, Christian Ethics and the Community (philadelphia: Pilgrim, 1971), 159. 54 For a discussion of this see Melvin Konner, "Following a Trajectory: On 'Tracing a Trajectory' and 'Explaining and Valuing,' by James M. Gustafson," Zygon 30:2 (June 1995), 199. 55 William James, The Varieties ofReligious Experience: A Stut!J in Human Nature, (New York: Collier, 1961),40. 56 James M Gustafson, ''Resp<:>nse to Rottschaefer, Beckley, and Konner," qgon 30:2 (June 1995), 223. 57 James M. Gustafson, ''Theology and Piety," Word and World3:2 (1983): 114-16. 58 Mïdgley, Beost tmd Man, 195. 59 Ibid., 195-208. 60 Niebuhr, RadicaJMonotheism and Western Culture, 11-23.

61 Gustafson, "A Response to Crities," 188. 62 Cahill, "Consent in Time of Affliction," 36 n. 6. 63 Gustafson, "A Response to Crities," 205. 64 Gilbert Meilaender, Review of Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective, by James M. Gustafson, Religious Studies Review 12:1 (1986),13.

40

ln my examination of Gustafson's erities 1 have been unsueeessful in finding any mention made of Gustafson's entire negleet of and apparent disregard for the doctrine of the Holy Spirit.

41

Chapter 2

THEOCENTRIC ETHICS

We arrive at what can be considered the heart of Gustafson's work. His primary

concern is with the ethicallife of Christians in society. He has defiuite ideas of what ethics

should look like, and affians its place within Christian thought and action. In this chapter,

we will be examining the salient features of Gustafson's ethics, first by distinguishing it from

other systems, and then by expanding on its unique contributions to ethical theory.

Tbroughout this process, we will make use of the comments of Gustafson's critics in order

to clarify ms thought and intentions. FinaIly, we will come back to the relationsmp between

theocentric ethics and another ethical theory, natural law. In doing so we will see that

Gustafson has taken many of ms cues from Aquinas. Gustafson's contributions provide a

viable alternative to naturallaw for today.

Up to this point, we have dealt with piety and religious affections, wmch, while being

responses to what is ultimate, are not, in themselves, actions (1: 229). Action comes out of

the ethical realm. Nonetheless, Gustafson is very clear that Christian ethics must be attached

to religious or affective convictions.1 The process of ethical discernment is a significant step

between recognizing a web of beliefs and acting morally. This means that action is

dependent upon an ethics built out of a theology, or a description of how things really and

ultimately are. Considerations of what we should be and do begin not with social or political

commitments but with theological ones (1: 24). Gustafson notes that for most ethicists, the

tendency is to take a side on an ethical issue, or develop the ethical method and content, and

on1y subsequently work out a theological or philosopmcal backing for it (2: 137). Instead, as

we have seen, he starts with theology, with a description of God and God's relations to the

world, and ms moral positions arise from it (1: 279 and 2: 279). His working this way is the

result of ms own theological conviction that God is not our instrument but the shaper of our

being and doing. What this also means is that we have to be careful in claiming Gustafson as

an ethicist who focuses on environmental concerns; first of aIl, Gustafson is occupied with

theological concerns, and this is what gives rise to ms environmental ethics.

42

In speaking to the church, he pays special attention to the procedure the individual

ethical agent undertakes in making decisions: "Ethics is a process of giving reasons for

action; the establishment of good reasons both prior to action and in the justifications of

actions after the fact is likely to develop more appropriate actions and evaluations" (1: 69).

This process is one that involves discernment, and the object of that discernment is what

God is enabling and requiring us to be and do as indicated through the patterns and

processes of the interdependence of life. It involves ordering appropriate relations between

ourselves, all things, and God (1: 327). What is exceptional about this is that Gustafson's

careful concern in doing ethics and disceming relations is not based on a conviction that

ethical certainty can be reached. In fact, often our discernment willlead us into further moral

accountability because of the inherent ambiguity of life situations. Gustafson is persuaded,

though, that Christian moral agents should not allow fear of moral blame to impede their

efforts to meet needs and do good.2 This is not to say that he supports an ethics dedicated to

doing what "feels right," but it is to say that one's moral concem must be dedicated

primarily to the good of the whole and not the moral perfection of the self. On the other

hand, moral character is not to be neglected, as it refers to the capacities for moral

discernment and helps detetmine the ends of one's moral participation (2: 287).

These convictions help the reader understand the general character of theocentric

ethics. This method is not one of mere consequentialism; there is room for both standards

and goals for action. The fact that humans live with the condition of being enabled means

we have a sense of freedom to act creatively; but there are also requirements placed upon us,

so that our freedom is limited by natw:al restrictions. Both of these aspects of our humanity

should be reflected in our ethics. Our guidelines and goals for action are subject to the

centre of value, which is God.

Ethical Context

The interpreter may weIl have difficulty in attempting to set theocentric ethics under

a label or within a category .. Gustafson's program is a sophisticated one, incorporating

elements of deontological, teleological, narrative, and character ethics. For instance, the

de finition of ethics in the first volume of Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective reveals a concern

for both deontology and teleology, claiming that ethics addresses both the rightness of

actions and the goodness of consequences (1: 87). Edward Fadey is one of the few critics

43

who has praised Gustafson for giving credit to the greater complexity of things, and thereby

avoiding a fall into particular ethical categorization.3 With Farley, Audi appreciates Gustafson

for providing exploratory, rather than system building, efforts. He has commented that

theocenttic ethics is not burdened with the purpose of defining specific moral princip les.

Instead, it focuses on a framework for devising and refining such principles.4

But his unique position within ethics has led Gustafson to address the question of

whether theocenttic ethics can be considered ethics at aIl, as ethics is classically defined. This

is because of the major shift in value that it makes from humanity to the divine. Gustafson

gives different answers to two questions important for ethical theory (2: 15). The first

addresses the scope of the whole to be taken into account, to which he replies that one's

scope must be as large as possible. The second refers to the value of the whole. Neither

descriptively nor normatively can the whole exist for the sake of humanity, according to

theocenttic ethics. The goal in ethics is to understand and take action toward the good ends

of all things, and not merely human ends. This being the case, the tools used by agents also

change: "Ethics. . . finds its answers in what individuals, making finite judgements, can

determine about what God is doing in the world" (1: 56). Gustafson goes on to explain that

this major shift in ethical reasoning comes out of theocentric theology:

Theocentric ethics could defend the view that the material considerations of moral life are almost totally related to what is good for us, what is right in person-to-person relationships. One would be able so to restrict the considerations of ethics if the Deity were for man above an other things. But if the Deity is not bound to our judgments about what is in our interests, then theological ethics is radically altered. It may no longer be ethics at aIl in the traditional sense of Western culture and Christianity (1: 99).

But this central difference leads to other perceived differences. In working out action, a

program of theocentric ethics does not guarantee human happiness or success (1: 342). In

addition, rigorous adherence to the formal standards of logic is not required of the agent.

Theocentric ethics does not have the same "rationalistic consistency" as Kantian ethics

because it begins with different sources for description (2: 140). Philosophically speaking, it

contains nonratiofl:al moves, as does the theology from which it draws (1: 81 and 84f). But

this does not mean the theory is incoherent. What Gustafson focuses on is the particular and

concrete, rather than the general and abstracto In fact, he is of the opinion that the

abstraction that often accompanies logically consistent systems is unhelpful to moral

behaviour. This corresponds with the motivations that have shaped his commonsense

44

ontology; Gustafson wants to delineate a theology and ethics that will be generally accessible.

The practical value of theocentric ethics makes the program more attractive to the agent

working out daily problems.5

We can see what is of particular distinction in theocentric ethics by comparing it to

other theories. The emphasis on experience as a source of theology might bring us to regard

it as narrative ethics. Most ethical systems are rationally analytic in nature, whereas narrative

ethics gives credence to a person's life "story." In narrative ethics, the focus is not simply on

solving a dilemma; instead, observations of objects and events have a great effect on how a

person comes to participate morally. Gustafson's ethics pays due attention to point of view

and context. Even so, he considers narrative to be only one form of dis course among several

in his ethical expression.6 Theocentric ethics incorporates methods and princip les from other

models, as weIl, that give shape to the narrative. For instance, Gustafson reveals some

similarities between theocentric ethics and rule-utilitarianism (2: 113). A view toward the

ends one attempts to achieve is important, according to the sense of direction that exists

within us. In pursuing certain ends perceived to be good, those standards of conduct that

have been developed through human socialization are critical. The difference between

theocentric ethics and rule-utilitarianism, though, is that in the former there is no single

normative end sought in the discernment process. Mary Midgley contributes to this idea

when she writes,

Utilitarians and others who simply advise us to be happy are unhelpful, because we aImost always have to make a choice either between different kinds of happiness­different things to be happy about-or between these and other things we want, which have nothing to do with happiness.7

The positions espoused by both Gustafson and Midgley have the effect of offering a critique

to all forms of utilitarianism, as what is good or what will lead to our happiness is never

singular. As weIl, good ends are never fixed or static. They change with the movement of the

patterns and processes of life. Thus, for two reasons Gustafson does not correspond to the

label he is given by Paul Ramsey, that of a "multi-value consequentialist."s First, there are

cert~in standards of conduct and duties that guide the agent in the pursuit of desired

consequences; we will come to see some of those in this chapter. Second, values are not only

multiple, but they also change in form and status.

John P. Reeder, on the other hand, offers a more insightful interpretation of

Gustafson's aims. He states that Gustafson develops a middle way between natural law

45

theory, which seeks to detettnine the fix:ed good end by examining the way things are in

nature, and more liberal theories of reality and action, which recognize no permanent

concepts of good or right, but instead seek to meet human preferences.9 ln our account of

theocentric ethics we will address this middle way as the best description of what Gustafson

is trying to achieve.

Basic Questions and Features

Gustafson's ethics are inspired by a number of questions he poses:

What can be discerned about the purposes of that power on which all of creation depends for its sustenance and for its possibilities of development? What actions are right for man in relation to the sustaining, ordering, limiting, and creative power of God? If God's purposes are for the well-being of the whole of "the creation," what is the place of human well-being in relation to the "whole of creation"? (1: 99).

These queries lead to the general question that lies at the heart of theocentric ethics: "What

is God enabling and requiring us, as participants in the patterns and processes of

interdependence of life in the world, to be and to do?" (2: 146 and passim). His de finitions

for the terms used in this sentence serve to remind us of his guiding theological convictions

(2: 1). God is the ultimate ordering power in the universe. Individuals and communities are

enabled by God through occasions or capacities for action that arise prior to our acting. But

there is also a requirement placed upon humanity to conform basically to this ordering. For

the most part, our being and doing occurs through these patterns and processes, rather than

. th 10 agamst em.

The moral imperative that answers this question also results from Gustafson's

theological commitments. More an expression of an overarching vision of life than a rule, it

is this: 'We are to conduct life so as to relate to all things in a manner appropriate to their

relations to God" (1: 113 and passim). This very general statement reveals the direction in

which theocentric ethics leads without indicating a certain telos or binding rules of conduct.

Rather, the task is to act in fitting relation to the patterns and processes. The focus in

relating ourselves properly to God and to all things is to preserve any possibilities for the

future development of aspects of life (2: 112). How this happens in concrete instances is not

laid out in an artificially systematic way. What humans can observe about the purposes of

God consists of the fact that the natural world continues to change, a process that includes

the rise and fall of species, climatic conditions, and eras. This process will one day also

46

include the faU of the earth itself.Such development is not a ladder of progress or

improvement; it is simply an assorttnent of patterns and processes. While this seems like a

rather vague starting point for practical morality, it does provide a necessary context and

perspective that is preparatory for more dis crete occasions of ethical discerntnent. Focusing

on a particular situation does not preclude having a sense of the larger patterns of interaction

at work around it. In fact, as we will see, awareness of this larger enVÏtonment can help

clarify options within the set of circumstances at hand (2: 12).

Gustafson's moral imperative leads hitn to identify several features of theocentric

ethics, which are condensed here (2: 6-22). It begins with the notion of experience. Hutnan

experiences and activities, among religious people at least, are directed by religious piety; so

piety and morality are always held together. The sense of something Other or ultitnate means

that action is to be directed pritnarily toward divine ends, rather than being litnited to our

own. The description of the way things are must be set in the context of larger wholes; the

de finition of the common good extends to the natural world. Situations that concern

humanity retain a good portion of ethical attention, as in most systems, since humans are the

agents having the experience. However, the place of humanity is recontextualized to reflect

the fact that, though we have our own Ïtnmediate concerns, we are not the centre of

concern. Patterns and processes, though, do not provide clear guidelines for action, and,

consequendy, there is a fresh emphasis on moral ambiguity and the tragic in ethical decision­

making. Aiso with regard to action, and coming out of the notion that human experience is a

whole, is the idea that moral reason should not stand in tension with natural impulses and

desires; rather they share a working relationship. Reason helps order and direct affectivity

appropriately, in tum using feelings as potential indicators for action. Our look at the whole

also suggests the possibility of self-denial and even self-sacrifice; theocentric ethics

encourages agents to place voluntary restraints upon their actions.

It is helpful to descrihe the constitution of these main features by USl11g three

sequential dimensions oudined hy Reeder: theocentrism, substantive notions for flourishing,

and functional requisites for human society.ll Here, theocentrism refers to the pietistic

rationale that guides our thinking, including the premises about experience and interpretation

upon which theology is huilt. Substantive notions for flourishing include a theory of the

good and how best to pursue the good of the whole and that of parts within this whole.

Functional requisites are those conditions required for flourishing. These include the

47

physical, psychological, sociological, and spiritual conditions necessary for the action of the

moral agent.

Theocentric Flourishing

It is through the second feature, or what Gustafson terms the middle portion, of

theocentric ethics that some possibilities for the flourishing of good can be laid out. While it

is critical to understand that Gustafson's ethics is not a program solely devoted to human

flourishing, and though ethical purpose can be posited as the glorification of God, this does

not mean that one component of God's purposes cannot be human happiness or

flourishing. Indeed, Gustafson upholds these as natural pursuits of humanity and things for

which we are enabled.12 It is just that human flourishing is not apparendy central to God's

purposes and cannot be our overriding objective.13 Reeder, though, encourages the notion

that theocentric ethics is centred on the idea of the flourishing of all creation.14 For him,

God's purposes emphasize the well-being of sentient and nonsentient life forms. However,

this might be saying too much of Gustafson's theology: it is among God's purposes that life

exists and, to various extents, flourishes. But just as the goods we all seek are

incommensurate, the flourishing of one aspect of life can lead to the destruction of another.

Since the patterns and processes of life work in both sustaining and threatening ways,

naming the well-being of all aspects of life as God's primary purpose is suspect. The

preservation of alllife, as an ethical norm, cannot be ultimate. There must be a limit to the

flourishing of humanity or other species for the sake of the larger good (1: 263f). Ultimately,

though Gustafson does not use this language, the agent can seek out general flourishing in

the realm of interrelationship, since value is relational and not substantive. If God has any

central purpose for creation, which is never a certainty for us, what seems to be indicated as

good is the interdependency of all things: "All created things somehow function not

individually, but in their relations to each other to the glory of God."15 In our lifespan,

theocentric ethics supports acting toward the good of this web of interdependency.

Theocentrism, then, leads to a radical shift in our substantive notions. Our values,

according to Gustafson, are far too narrow. What we value cannot be limited to a single

term, such as happiness; therefore, as we will see, there is no single corresponding ethical

rule, such as love (1: 7). The questions, "What is good?" and "What is right?" should

themselves be questioned. As did H. Richard Niebuhr, we must consider what we mean by

48

the good, and ask, "Good for whom?" and "Good for what?" (1: 95).16 Goodness and value

are not entities unto themselves; they are relational concepts (1: 271). This does not make

Gustafson a situationalist, nor does it make the good utterly relativistic. Rather, Gustafson

understands in ethical terms what Midgley phrases in the context of evolutionary theory:

"There is, in fact, no such thing as fttness in the abstract, onfy fttness for certain conditions, and these may

change.,,17 Having made this daim, there are some things that remain good or bad over the

course of human experience because there are many constants about human life and

relations. For Gustafson, murder is always wrong in our experience; it violates relationships

and possibilities that are unlikely to change drasticaIly enough to alter the injunction against

it (1: 271). There are no instances when murder is right, and this is because it will always

have negative consequences for human relationships as they stand. To consider value as

relational is to underline its multidimensionality; we all have different values to each other.

As Niebuhr has clarified, this "is not the multi-dimensionality of an abstract realm of

essential values but rather the multi-dimensionality of beings in their relations to each

other.,,18 It may then be generally acceptable from a theocentric perspective to prioritize the

interests of the human over the ant, so long as we recognize that there is an indissoluble

connection between the two. But in considering this we must note that ordering our values

is done not merely by defining utility, but in defining relationship to GOd.19

The consequence of aIl this is that multiple and relational goods are incommensurate.

They will not fit in perfecdy with aIl the contexts that rise out of the patterns and processes

of interdependence. For instance, some may argue that holding a store of nuclear weapons

helps main tain the security of a nation, while some others argue that ecological good is

safeguarded when they are banned. Since right actions rarely lead to the realization of good

outcomes for aIl, theocentric ethics opens itself to painful choices that will have to be made

in certain instances. In recognizing this, the theory shows a remarkable capacity for

application in everyday life.

Robert M. Adams delivers a keen observation when he comments that Gustafson's

position on the goal of flourishing might be clarified if he were to remain consistent in

focusing ethics on the glorification of God, rather than on what he considers to amount to a

kind ofbiocentrism.zo His complaint is that "God figures in Gustafson's thought much more

as the comprehensive purposer to be served than as the transcendent Good to be admired,

loved, and worshiped."ZI Adams would instead encourage a focus on the celebration of

49

beauty. However instrumental this shift might be for our orientation, it is unlikely that it

would make ethical discernment any clearer a process. In fact, it could have the tendency to

cut out ethical discernment altogether. What is required by Gustafson's commonsense

ontology is a practical objective, and since very litde is known of the ordering power to begin

with, the best way the divine can be glorified is through this practical relating of creatures to

creator.

We have now put the term flourishing into its proper context within theocentric

ethics, but there remains one more important thing to say about the substantive, or middle,

portion of Gustafson's ethics. An observation critical to our task is made by Reeder as he

puts forth his interpretation of the program. That is, the substantive notions of theocentric

ethics, while built upon a theocentric theology, can arise separately from this theology.22 That

is not to say that the middle portion of theocentric ethics can be free-floating. Rather, its

theological rationale can be exchanged for a nontheistic philosophical rationale similar in

essential content. What exacdy is essential about this content is a subject we will explore in

our third chapter.

Finally, it is appropriate to review the words of caution Gustafson provides before

pursuing an oudine of the theocentric program. There are several ways in which extreme

theocentrism can result in problems for the agent. A theocentric orientation should not lead

one to compromise ideas of human dignity by considering individuals only as means and not

ends. While excessive individualism is a regrettable development, it is important that

individual rights and responsibilities be maintained (1: 100f). We are to bear in mind that, "to

relate to pers ons in a manner appropriate to their relations to God requires the honoring of

their capacities for self-determination" (2: 247). In encouraging theocentrically defined

action among others, there is a kind of gende patemalism present, but this is not a coercion

of the individual to give up rights or choices (2: 110). The theocentric attitude depends upon

informed consent, and not resignation, to the possibilities and limitations of life. For this

reason, the idea of working toward a larger good must be qualified to avoid tyranny (1: 106f).

Gustafson offers several other caveats that clarify the intentions of his work. He does not

want to deny human distinctiveness or uniqueness. The point is to recognize that being

distinct is not the same as being central or superlative: "One does not need to affirm that

human life is of supreme value in order to defend the view that it is of distinctive value" (2:

56). Additionally, to avoid romantic ecological ideas, Gustafson shies away from the attitude

50

that would see nothing killed or desttoyed. Value is not so much inttinsic as it is given to us

by fact of our relation to the source of value, God (1: 10Sf).23 Life is not to be revered as an

independently sacred thing. Rather than reverence for life, Gustafson affitms a respect for

life that considers aIl things important and of value in relation to the divine. We will retutn in

our final statement to this matter. One last qualification is that Gustafson does not wish to

faIl into the same ttap he accuses many other theologians of falling into-that is, of claiming

sure authotÏzation for an understanding of God's purposes. In doing ethics theocentrically

one must take care to claim only a certain level of confidence in a chosen course of action.24

Ibis is the best that can be done.

Aspects of the Ethical Model

Gustafson's interest in widening our ethical scope to take in a larger world picture

means that he agrees, to an extent, with a concem articulated by Midgley. She writes that the

language currently popular in ethical dialogue, that of means and ends, must be replaced with

a language more suited to the reality of our situation, that of part and whole.2s Our

understanding of the ethical process cannot be limited to a linear progression from means to

end. Rather, humanity must be seen as a part of a complex web of interrelationship, and

understand how to contribute in a fitting way to other parts as well as the whole. While

Gustafson still perceives some room for the means-end arrangement in particular situations,

he is acutely aware of the gravity of Midgley's concem, and his own emphasis on the

relationship of the part to the whole influences his encire effort (1: 342).

The model used to consttuct theocentric ethics is one that is interactional, in conttast

with the usual conttactual or organic altematives (1: 292f). Organic models, such as

communitarianism, focus on the community and highlight processes of continuous mutual

determination between persons and groups. In this model, the autonomy of the individual is

underappreciated for the sake of the whole. A pers on is to be devoted to the whole, which

has produced him or her. Altemately, conttactual models, including libertarianism, claim

precedence for the individual. They highlight individual autonomy over the good of the

whole, since the whole is considered merely the product of amassed individual choices.

Gustafson sets his own work apart from these by holding to the idea that individuals are the

products of society, and that they contribute to it as weIl. Perhaps the best way of describing

the interactional model is to review Gustafson's depiction of marital and family relationships

51

(2: 162). A family is a whole that is more than the sum of its parts. However, the individuals

within the family do not exist only for the sake of the whole, and, in the same instance, the

whole does not exist only for its individual members. There is a reciprocal, though not

necessarily harmonious, set of relationships at work here. Ultimately, and in extreme

circumstances, society can take priority in theocentric ethics, but only because individuaIs are

radically dependent upon it for their existence (2: 246). This priority must be realized by way

of voluntary restraints, not through enforced rules of conduct. Theocentric ethics involves a

web of relationships that require us to attend to the well-being of individuals, direct

relationships, and larger societal connections (2: 162). It is concemed with the good of the

whole, but incorpora tes a more complex understanding of the makeup of the whole than do

most ethical theories.

This model introduces a tension that does not provide any faIse assurance in the

form of a fixed principle for working out moral positions. In the more difficult dilemmas

that require us to choose between individual goods and the good of society, the only sources

of guidance we have do not lie within the model Gustafson sets out. Rather, they are present

in the details of the situation at hand (1: 293). Ethical valuations are not deterroined

abstracdy, and much importance is given to the context, as in narrative ethics. The value of

the individual human good may be altered or qualified according to the circumstances, and

we might be called to impose a limitation on our own interests (2: 6). But this is a tension of

which Gustafson approves. He signifies his suspicion of the status of fixed rules in ethics by

accusing other system-builders of introducing independent first principles solely to construct

a coherent scheme of thought (2: 108). He, instead, deals with daily situations in their full

complexity and ambiguity, which, in his experience, e1ude single principles. Since there are

many good ends to consider, there is no single principle or telos to which our ethics can be

oriented. Theocentric ethics cannot "provide a single term for the desirable effects; instead it

has to deal with a variety of possible good effects and with the cost to other justifiable ends

of achieving those selected" (2: 112). We have seen that Gustafson cannot perceive an

objective moral order, and since the purposes of God are unknowable to us, we must

recognize that our efforts to glorify God are fallible.

A continually changing order and a limited human capacity to perceive that order

mean that it is also difficult to set out particular rules of conduct. Any standards for conduct

must be general and flexible, according to the requirements of the context:

52

To some extent the question of morally defensible means is context-bound, as in the case of Medical triage; in the Most extremely critical circumstances certain acts of omission and even commission are justifiable that cannot be justified when there are several possible courses of action (2: 242).

Rules generally set out norms; theocentric ethics, alternatively, is open to their careful

extension, revision, and alteration. We may· perhaps gain clarity. about the tension between

principles and contextualism in ethics if we tum to the description· of the "middle axiom," a

device of J. H. Oldham that Gustafson uses in an earlier work.26 Middle axioms are defioed

as those statements that offer direction to the community at hand. Rather than being

immutable in nature, they are more like "provisional definitions" for a particular community.

While immediate context is important, it is not all-important; previous standards of conduct

must be viewed with respect and understanding. However, these standards can be modified

according to perceived demands of the present situation. The experiences of previous

generations do not always match up to the experiences of contemporary society; changing

patterns of life make this the case. Middle axioms, then, sit somewhere in between univers al

principles and concrete policies. In recalling Gustafson's relationship to Reformed theology,

we May note that he treats moral principles in much the same way that he treats theological

tradition. The principle, like the tradition, is informative and a source of guidance. It is no t,

however, independendy binding upon us, and it can be deviated from according to the

demands of the circumstances. For instance, present conditions of knowledge require that

we bring scientific understanding to bear on theological conclusions; this has the effect of

altering the conclusions, while retaining the motivations and spirit of the original endeavour.

ln both cases of theological and moral tradition, though, deviations should be made only

with good reason; such are the demands of those thinkers and agents who have gone before.

With this in mind, we are prepared to understand what Reeder means when he says

that Gustafson's substantive notions are directed toward seeking the good through duties

and obligations.27 Good, we must remember, is not singular but plural, and particular goods

are incommensurate, since good relates to the requirements and interests of aIl aspects of

creation. Even so, there is no available principle for ordering these goods into a hierarchy, a~

is present in natural law. This leads Gustafson neither to arbitrary decision-making nor

inaction, but to the concept of discemment, or the ability to order goods in a way

appropriate to the Îtnmediate circumstances as weIl as the larger patterns of relationship.

While no single princip le that guides discemment exists, there are certain imperatives or

53

duties that are associated with theocentric ethics. These are not divinely given or objective;

they are, rather, the conclusions of religious and moral experience. Gustafson articulates one

of them in Kantian fasbion: "Act so that you consider aIl things never only as a means to

your own ends, or even to collective human ends" (2: 135). Not aIl courses of action that

produce beneficial ends can justify the means. In looking toward a good end one must take

into account the goods that exist at present, such as the capacity for individual autonomy,

and be careful not to compromise them unjustifiably.

HumanAgency

Seeking the good through duties and obligations places much weight on the idea of

human responsibility. While the centre of ethical value is God, the ethical method and agents

are human. Without a God's-eye view, humans are left with the difficult task not only of

perceiving an existing ordering, but also of providing original responses that contribute to

tbis ordering, while understanding that there are broad implications for such actions. Human

agency is a much more nuanced thing here than it is in many other theories. Gustafson

endeavours to be honest about the fact that there are no easy answers or externally defi.ned

boundaries. If anything, humans must think more meticulously and act more deliberately,

and yet more cautiously, than they have before. His expansion of what is valid to ethical

deliberation means that aIl of life is ethics.

Within the interactional model Gustafson identifies the human as participant (2: 13).

Such a concept draws on the level of responsibility found in H. Richard Niebuhr's model,

"man the answerer."28 When juxtaposed against "man the maker" or "man the citizen," this

model shows an awareness of both human abilities and limitations with regard to agency.

The participant model is distinct from this in that it denotes that humans not only answer

the initiatives of the patterns and processes; we also contribute to them. The importance of

the modellies in its transformative nature. We have a great ability to change the direction of

the patterns and processes of life.29 Rejecting the Reformed tradition's emphases on divine

determinism and predestination, Gustafson wants to consider the human as agent becaus~ of

the capacity to help shape the sequence of interdependence (1: 187).30 That humanity exists

in great continuity with the rest of creation does not preclude the idea that humans have a

significant ability to effect both positive and negative change.

54

On the other hand, there is an element of fatedness or inevitability that comes both

from the natural circumstances that bear down upon us and the prior actions in history that

have continuing effects on us (1: 212f). Although there exists in us the capacity to give a

certain amount of direction to what is occurring, we are to remember that we have not

created and cannot do without those forces that initiate the occurrence. What is encouraging

about this, though, is that the recognition of this fact cau relieve people from wrongly

assumed guilt for things not within their control (1: 291). We cannot change the actions of

our predecessors, nor can we be held responsible for the situation in which we arise. An

additional area of limitation is a lack of sufficient vision to discemaIl the relevant present

circumstances and to anticipate aIl the consequences of our actions. Nevertheless, we cau

take action to alter the course upon which we have been set, and we cau do so responsibly

by enlarging our scope of ethical consideration. We are finite in that we have limited

freedom and limited vision, but we are still capable of responding and acting in appropriate

ways. In fact,. we must make full use of these capacities, for though we are not culpable for

past events, we are responsible for how we shape the future (1: 214). Thus, there is interplay

between freedom and fate, which means that we may be more at liberty in some spheres of

life than in others.

Part of human distinctiveness, recalling our first chapter, is the heightened capacity

for rationality and deliberation about means and ends; our intentional actions give us a

corresponding level of responsibility unique to our species.31 Even though our good-seeking

is a finite effort, and though only a finite good is ever achievable for us, our participation

does go beyond the situation at hand. "Agents are participating not only in 'transactions'

with the Îtntnediate 'recipients' of their initiatives; they are participants in larger spheres of

interaction, and even in the development of the natural world" (2: 13). Our unique ability for

participation means that we must limit our freedoro so that we do not become unnecessarily

destructive of ourselves or of other forms of life (1: 268f). This e1ement of sacrifice suits

Christian ideology well. The renouncing of such a limitation, Gustafson would say, has

contributed to many of the negative circumstances in which we live tod~y. Any restriction of

our possibilities should be made not out of fear of change or new responsibilities. Nor is

sacrifice something made resentfully, since our erootions and our reason are to be partners in

our deliberation. Rather, these things are ta be undertaken in ways that show respect for the

impact we have on other aspects of creation.

55

Humans, then, have a uruque calling. Gustafson's concept of the human as

participant is somewhat like Luther's understanding of humans as "masks of God" (2: 167

and 286). As creatures that are able to perceive and interact with God's ordering we are

responsible to relate life, human and nonhuman, to this ordering to the extent that we

interact with it. Human agents, then, are deputies responsible for cooperating with the divine

ordering. To cooperate, though, is not simply to defer to the present situation; the

participant is neither to sit in approval of the present circumstances nor to condemn them

entirely.32 Instead, agents should exercise their given creativity in acting, involving themselves

in a gende shaping of events and circumstances that does not struggle against the larger

ordering of the world by God.

A note of caution is heard in the fact that, as participants, we must be careful in our

construal of the ordering of life. In detailing the descriptions of experience that underlie our

interpretations of moral obligations, we must in some way remove ourselves from our

iromediate events, so as to take everything properly into account (2: 147). In later addressing

the subject of discernment, we will attend to the difficulties associated with this expansion.

At this point, it is important to recognize that relating our action to the existing patterns and

processes does not mean that we are wholly fated:

To be sure, the divine ordering of the world is such that there are conditions of possibility in life, but the moral task is to see and help others to see actual and specific opportunities to better one's condition of life (2: 209).

The difficult task is relating observations to normative content. Our clue to this

challenge seems to be the broadening of our perspective as much as possible to take in and

consider the largest patterns of ordering. This is an expansion of our view of both rime and

space.33 Our consideration of what is ethically relevant can now include things like appetite

and affections, and not only our rationality or will. Many ethicists limit morality to these

cognitive or volitional capacities, separating the moral from what is considered the pre- or

non-moral. However, the importance of our affective capacities is slowly gaining wider

recognition in ethical circles, due in no small part to feminist scholars. Congruendy, Hans

Jonas, as cited by Gustafson, has put forth the' idea that ethical knowledge is triggered

through feelings of revulsion toward what is bad or wrong.34 This shows that values are not

independent of needs, wants, and desires, or our perceptions of these.

To be rational is not simply to reason logically from certain abstract or general principles, or from some moral ideals and values, to their application to the particular

56

"facts" at hand. Our rationality is exercised in determining what things are good for, for whom they are good; how to order and govem our subjective and often conflicting motives; and how to relate things to each other in the "extemal wotld" (1: 286f).

Gustafson describes the human as a primarily valuing creature, rather than considering

rationality primary. Of course, valuing is not a capacity unique to humans; rather, the refined

way we sort our values may be what makes us distinct. But having a distinct capacity does

not mean that sucha capacity is primary to our identity.

True ethical understanding, then, requires both rational and affective capacities: it is,

in part, deterroined by how we see humanity and how we sense or fiel our place (2: 279). This is

not only an appropriate forro of ethical discemment; it is a necessary one. Not all dilemmas

can be resolved rationally. For instance, the polarized sides debating the issue of abortion

both offer rational arguments, and even use the same sources of knowledge. How can such a

debate be resolved rationally? The diHiculty is that there are too many other factors at work,

and this demands the controlled use of our other ways of knowing. However, "the good ...

is not merely inclined toward or felt; it is also known, and thus there is a cognitive aspect as

well" (1: 119). There is a cooperative interaction between reason and affectivity that is

compatible with Midgley's account: "Practical reasoning would be impossible were not some

preferences 'more rational' than others. Rationality includes having the right priorities. And

deep, lasting preferences linked to character traits are forroally a quite different proposition

from sharp, isolated impulses."35 The point is that both reason and emotion are natural

aspects of human nature. One is not more sophisticated or contrived than the other (2: 9).36

This understanding of what is natural contrihutes to the idea that our distinctiveness does

not make us supreme. Humanity, like all other species, is natural. This is a claim that expands

our moral vision; many of those human factors typically considered non-moral tend to be

those attrihutes that humans have in common with other animaIs, such as instinct or

affectivity. Gustafson wants to he clear that, if we are to be mindful of a scientific

understanding of evolution, this is erroneous (1: 118).

All this is concurrent wiÙ?- his understanding that affectivity is a central characteristic

of religion and a principal human orientation. It is thtough piety, for the religious person,

that there is a uniting of heart and mind. Piety, which we recall is based on the affective

senses, allows for the inclusion of the more "subjective" aspects of agency, such as feelings,

intuitions, desires, and the exercise of humility (2: lOf). This kind of humility can lead

57

agential creatures to sacrifice their own interests, to consent to such a sacrifice, for the sake of

others:

All things are instrumental to the divine ordering, not to human happiness, and the divine ordering does not have human happiness as its final end. There are choices that have to be made which run counter to the fulfilhnent of human happiness (2: 108).

In considering the service of God, it becomes difficult for Gustafson to distinguish between

obligation and supererogation (2: 115). This should not be regarded as a fault, but as an

authentic understanding of Christian interaction with the world. Theocentrism leads to a

demanding requirement of discipline and consent on the part of the agent, which reveals an

additional school of ethics that enters Gustafson's thought: that of character- or disposition­

based ethics.

EthicaJ Discernment

Theocentric orientation, fueIled by inner piety, encourages ID us a sense of

responsibility for those things to which we have affective responses:

A sense of accountability to others, and in the religious consciousness ultimately to God, qualifies self-understanding and the ways in which one relates to others. Stewardship is the personal basis for an attitude of caring for what is given and for the forms of caring that are appropriate to it. It is to be a "mask of God"; it is to have a calling ... that is ultimately in the service of the divine ordering and caring for the world (2: 167).

When this sense rises up within us, it is important to be able to translate what we value in

our description into what is of moral significance. At this stage, the process of moral and

ethical discernment is initiated. This process has several steps, which, though not clearly

distinguished in practice, can be labeIled here for pedagogical purposes. They include the

identification of points to be considered, the setting out of boundary conditions for action,

the recognition of presumptions in favour of certain values and principles, and the

establishment of general guidelines for action (2: 303). The process is not rigorist in any of

these areas, though it is coherent.

The first step, oûtlining the ethical context, is entirely dependent on our description

of life and stratification of the involved components. It is understood that the process of

thinking ethicaIly begins with a description of experience as it relates to our being and doing.

Our understandings, assumptions, beliefs, and convictions about the way the world is and

58

should be arise from out: initial description, and help us consttuct moral views. We begin

with the largest possible pictw:e of what really and ulcimately is. Looking to the natw:al order

presents us with a larger context for moral consideration. Gustafson affirms, "It provides

signals or indications of points to be taken into account in making personal or social

choices" (2: 275). It reveals fundamental requisites that must be met in order to encout:age

the flourishing of interrelated life. However, these requisites are dependent upon out:

perceptions of circumstances, which change with cime and development of knowledge.

Experience and description are not individual matters, but matters for the

community (2: 290 and 316f). Gustafson has stated that we are all related to something larger

than out: own subjective experiences, and we have shared perceptions of thiS.37 Thus, we can

begin with certain assumptions about the natw:al world, society, and agency. Just as

experience is communally initiated and corrected, so moral discemment discout:se requires a

corre"ctive community. People who relate to one another because of shared values and

commitments provide insights and clarifications that contribute to conclusions.38 Even so,

we are separated from other groups of people through the cultw:al and religious traditions to

which we adhere, and out: assumptions may not be shared by aU. Out: traditions, in large part,

shape out: interpretation of experience, and so we must have respect for interpretations other

than out: own. Different cultw:es reveal different points to be considered (2: 304). For this

reason, Gustafson refrains from attempting to set out a univers al or common system of

ethics (1: 126 and 147 n. 6). Yet he does set out an ethics which coincides ~th his own

description of experience, a commonsense ontology he thinks many others share.

Experience also is not an abstract matter. We relate things to God not in abstraction but in

very specific circumstances of relationship and action (1: 209). The experience must be taken

up in its concrete components because of the fact that change occut:s through the patterns

and processes of life, and out: knowledge of the world grows in relation to science and

experience; we are to continually reassess out: description by means of constant observation

(1: 44).

Of cout:.se, no one of us can respond to the whole of things, since the whole is

greater than out: ability to perceive it. No expansion of vision can justify the conclusion that

humans have come to a complete understanding of the cosmos (2: 58). But as out:

knowledge and abilities expand, we are able to respond to broader and broader contexts (2:

15). It must be out: aim to keep up moraUy with what we know scientifically and do

59

technologicaIly. Gustafson remarks that though our knowledge of the world has become

more complex, our ethical procedures do not match this complexity. What is required is an

ethics that takes into account a broader understanding of what is good, and a more generous

interpretation of what components are involved in making a moral decision.

Discernment, then, as a method of ethical reasoning, includes both observation and

a disctiminating or evaluating interpretation (1: 328). It differs from the kind of deliberation

found in other ethical models in that it is not a straightforward rational method that brings

one to a solution.39 Rather, decisions that come out of discernment can be ambiguous, and

the agent may exhibit a level of uncertainty about them. Discerning agents recognize that

there may be more than one right way to go about resolving a dilemma, or more than one

good to seek out, and that they are incapable of satisfying aIl of these requirements and

conditions. In relation to this Gustafson writes,

The final discernment is an informed intuition: it is not the conclusion of a formally logical argument, a strict deduction from a single moral principle, or an absolutely certain result from the exercises of human "reason" alone. There is a final moment of perception that sees the parts in relation to a whole, expresses sensibilities as weIl as reasoning, and is made in the conditions of human finitude (1: 338).

We must also say something about the subsequent steps in discemment. Beginning

with a description of the way things really and ultimately are indicates that seeking what is

good or of value is the principal move; contemplating what is right to do has a contingent

position. In this respect, theocentric ethics is close to classic teleological ethics. The

particular values themselves de termine the nature of the boundary conditions that are set,

though this is not to undervalue the deontic component: 'CV alues and ends are chosen, and ''.

conditions needed to achieve or approximate them are developed. But there are boundaries

within which particular ends ought to be pursued" (2: 306). Many of the beliefs and

convictions that arise from our description are not so much absolute as they are sources of

guidance. 1bis would suggest that the term "rule" is a misnomer, since our dispositions are

conditions more active in revealing possibilities than in setting limitations.40

The idea that context is detetminative of standards for action reveals something

about Gustafson's epistemology. As Gustafson rejects an objective moral order, he does not

support an ethics of divine commando But the tone of his work indicates a refusal to

consider aIl things as relative. He is interested in shaping an cmc'l,ing moral order through the

insights of experience.41 More than one of his interpreters has positioned Gustafson in

60

Richard Bemstein's neopragmatist camp. That is, he sits between objectivism, or the belief in

an independent and immutable matrix detetminative of rationality or morality, and

relativism, or the belief that rationality and morality are relative to conceptual schemes.42

This is the middle way mentioned in the introduction of this chapter. Reeder observes that

for neopragmatists there is a dialectical relationship between generalized principles and

specific judgements, the former being first induced from the latter, and then going on to

contribute to particular situations of discemment in the future.43 Conversely, Reeder also

observes that there are values present prior to Gustafson's articulation of the way things

really and ultimately are. For instance, Gustafson does not simply describe God as ordering

the world; he states that everything ordered is good, that the ordering process itself is good,

and that our natural response should be one of gratitude.44 Original goodness is understood

prior to our concrete and specific valuations. God's good purposes then go on to inspire

moral responses in the agent, and these take on a neopragmatist character. Reeder's purpose

in pointing this out is to show that Gustafson does have something that underpins his ethics,

though it is not the kind of immutable, objective moral order attacked by relativists. It is

more like a structure or web of beliefs than a solid foundation. It does not wholly detetmine

our moral activity, though it does help condition and inform it. What this demonstrates is

that neopragmatists, in ruling out an immutable matrix of reality, do not also have to rule out

an appeal to the way things really and ultimately are. We can surmise that Gustafson would

approve of this way of thinking as part of a commonsense ontology to which the average

agent can relate. So, the idea of a web of beliefs will become very important as we seek to

present a secular characterization of theocentrism.

However, there are those critics, including Adams, who say that the process of

discerntnent is too demanding a task to apply to the daily lives of humans.45 Disceming

elusive divine purposes that are more comprehensive than anything we can take in is a task

that humans are not up to, since there is a large gap between the patterns and processes of

the whole and the limited capacities of humanity. Adams thinks it is better to say that our

ethical responsibilities are exhausted by the promotion of human flourishing, and do not

extend to that of interrelated life, since "only God is fit to bear responsibility for the good of

the whole cosmos.,,46 We might respond by reemphasizing the freedom and scope

Gustafson gives the ethical agent. He recognizes the tension between human finitude and

the ability to grow and create. This tension is what makes us able to impact the patterns and

61

processes of life, though not in ways wholly predictable to or controllable by us. Still, both

our predictions and control become more refined over rime. Whether this situation is either

satisfying to us or daunting is beside the point. It is simply the situation we are given. This

being the case, we must not avoid it. The conclusion Adams comes to about human

responsibility is insufficient, since the bottom line of interdependence is that the human

good depends upon the good of the larger patterns and processes of life.

Nonetheless, what Gustafson describes is indeed a very demanding ethics. While he

always emphasizes expansion of vision and responsibility, we should pause to reflect that his

idea of improving moral character does not infer that humans are responsible for the

patterns of life. Similarly, moral improvement does not extend to moral perfection. Quite

clearly, even the most conscientious individual agent will not be confident that she is aware

of every ethically relevant matter. Nowhere does Gusqtfson eschew particular expertise. It is

to be assumed, for example, that the physician will know more about medical concerns than

environmental ones. What is being called for is not omniscience but an awareness of the

larger context, and a respect for matters outside one's own area of expertise. Gustafson

encourages us to dis cern and act responsibly to the full measure of our ability.

An important qualification about discemment needs to be explored at this point.

While observations of the patterns and processes of life are necessary to the development of

our moral understanding, they are not wholly sufficient to the process; they offer what is

necessary for a web of beliefs, not an immutable moral order.47 There is no given "blueprint"

for the ordering of life, and there are no precise moral commands provided in this ordering

(1: 245). As Gustafson has written,

1 believe that resolving the is-ought issue one way or another in the abstract does not fully resolve the relations between descriptions and morally desirable outcomes in very specific cÏtcumstances. AIso, those relationships will vary depending upon what sort of moral issue is under consideration.48

Here Gustafson distances himself from his mentor, H. Richard Niebuhr, and claims that the

agent does not endeavour to detetmÏne God's action, but instead aims to discern what we

are required or enabled to dO.49 It is through the integration of a continually modified

description with our initial observations that we are able to come to any conclusions about

what God's ordering may be indicating. In fact, patterns and processes are indicators only,

and not proofs (2: 293).

62

The question, then, is whether these indicators, and our web of beliefs, are sufficient

to the development of our own blueprint oflife. Stephen Toulmin understands Gustafson to

respond negatively to this idea:

A dozen roads exist by which, through confidence in the fruitfulness of honest hard work, we cau move in directions that can improve and reftne our understanding of those relations, even though none of them can be absolutely sure of leading, by itself, to that final destination. 50

Indeed, Gustafson himself is fond of quoting Milton's Paradise Lost: "So little knows / Any,

but God alone, to value right / The good before him, but perverts best things / To worst

abuse, or to their meanest use" (quoted in 2: 282 and passim). We offer our own ethical

decisions, our contributions to the ordering of life, in response to the ordering of the

patterns and processes of interdependence already in existence. These patterns are discerned,

at least provisionally, with the help of human experience and data from the sciences. But our

actions do not result from idealistic or philosophically exact theories. From a practical

perspective, they are corrections to the disordering that has resulted from actions of the past

(2: 299).

Gustafson agrees that ethics is a discipline that attempts to resolve the moral

ambiguity incurred through our conilicting characteristics of finitude and responsibility (2:

21 and 289). But while certain values may seem almost absolute, there is never risk-free or

cost-proof morality (2: 302). We have a lack of clarity and certainty in our discemment of

God's ordering (1: 113 and 244). In this way, Gustafson does follow in the foots teps of

Niebuhr, whose own ethics did not allow for moral certainty or blameless positions. In a

paragraph important to Gustafson's correction of Christianity, he writes that theocentric

ethics

does not relieve the anxiety of taking risks; it does not eliminate the need sometimes to act unjusdy for the sake of a wider justice; it does not resolve the deep ambiguities of moral choices in certain particular conditions; and it does not eliminate the possibility of genuine tragedy as a feature of human moral experience. It does not provide a bland assurance that something good will issue from every circumstance of what is injurious to human welfare, that every "crucifixion" will issue in a glorious "resurrection," that all things work together for good for those who love God (1: 316t).

With the continuaI reassessment involved in describing the ordering of nature, culture,

society, and history, there is a need to take risks, to step out where the outcome may be

uncertain. This understanding of risk-taking, though, is not a warrant for recklessness.

63

Rather, the agent is to temper risk-taklng with an awareness of her limited capacities to

control thecircutnstances. What contributes to the justification of an act with ambiguous

results is the amount of consideration given to the situation. 51 OversimpÎification of the

problem merely limits our options unnecessarily; true discernment gives us the confirmation

that this tragic action is warranted. like Niebuhr, Gustafson recommends grave and

unhurried reflection where possible (2: 280).

The result is that we cannot support our deliberate actions with certainty. To do so

would be inconsistent with the complexity of the situation. We can arrive, however, at a klnd

of moral certitude (1: 56). Gustafson does not provide a detailed explanation of his choice of

language here, but he does offer the distinction that certainty is impossible, while certitude is

not (1: 327). Certainty seems to imply an objective reason for having confidence that what

one is doing is the right thing to do and will result in predicted good ends. Certitude does

~ot offer the same assurance. N onetheless, it is more realistic, taklng into account the

relativities of life and the finitude of humanity both in foreknowledge and ability to act.

Theocentric ethics recognizes the aphorism that there are always multiple consequences to a

single action, and so it is a complicated process to perceive the ends our actions will produce

(2: 282). However, there are occasions when one can be generally satisfied that one has done,

to the best of one's knowledge, the most appropriate thing in the circumstances. In

providing a way to moral certitude, theocentric ethics accomplishes no small goal. It

encourages us to be more honest about the dense nature of life situations, and more willing

to admit a lack of power to act perfecdy.

This does not mean that those instances that do not clearly provide positive results

cannot be occasions for certitude. A lack of certainty means that theocentric ethics is open

to actions of necessity that lead to tragic outcomes. Ordering life with the aim of

interdependence does not entail that all goods will be achieved or all needs met. What

defiues the tragic is a course of action that involves a legitimate method of pursuit toward

legitimate ends but which also results in a compromising of other existing goods and

possibilities for the future (2: 21).52 Actions like this, such as the decision to kill in self­

defence, are justifiable, though indeed moumful and regrettable. Gustafson advises the agent

to remain discontent with the tragic choice and its consequences; we must never sanction

tragedy.53 But a discontentedness with our own finitude should not lead us to inaction, as it

sometimes does in Niebuhr's ethics.54 What theocentric ethics teaches is that a system of life

64

that providesincommensurate goods necessarily prevents harmony in establishing future

goods (2: 55). Since we cannot avoid this, we should not compromise the limited good we

can do by refraining from action altogether.

Since GuStafson is not a proponent of nonaction, he cannot support the idea of

halting human progress by restraining aU use or development of technology (1: 13).

"Scientific investigations and technology," he writes, "are means of preserving and

enhancing nature's own gifts" (2: 239). We cannot predict what beneficial or detrimental

effects our knowledge might have, but this does not authorize the repression of the creative

and exploratory sides of our nature. Since human creativity is part of the natural ordering, we

must make continuai attempts to order our creative contributions accordingly. We have the

capacity to develop, though not to the point of some idea of human perfection, so that the

range of possible courses of action can be broadened. In fact, Gustafson urgently

encourages scientists to consider themselves participants in moral agency, and not merely

objective observers. With Toulmin, Gustafson would agree that they are now "having to

rejoin the rest of humanity" in this respect, recognizing the moral consequences of their

research and developments (2: 13).55

This examination of ethical discernment shows that an orientation toward the divine

results in a high place for the common good. Furthermore, Gustafson's understanding of the

common good is expanded from its usual meaning. The idea of the interdependence of aU

life results in an assertion about the importance of having concem for the natural world.

Therefore, in the final statement that foUows our third chapter, we will draw out the

implications theocentric ethics has for ecology.

Comparison to NaturaJ Law

Throughout this examination of theocentric theology and ethics, implicit

connections to Roman Catholic naturallaw theory have been made. Despite Gustafson's

unique centre of value and refusaI to consider ethics analytical, theocentric ethics proves not

to be an ethical orphan, but related to natural law. We are now in a position to examine

further the similarities between the two programs. In doing so, our attention will be drawn

to certain differences; their relationship does not prevent them from being highly divergent

in both theory and practice.56 Gustafson himself offers a comparison of his program to that

of Aquinas, and we will draw upon this here (2: 42_64).57

65

Theocentric ethics and naturallaw share comtnon sources. They both posit an initial

description of the world in line with human experience and refined by evidences from the

sciences. Though their contexts for observation are quite different, Gustafson claims that

both he and Aquinas work from general descriptions of nature and culture. They use the

same sources, including theology, reason, experience, and, as noted, science: "That either

human experience or the knowledge of the natural world developed by the sciences is at least

a 'clue' to knowledge of God is, of course, a necessary supposition of all natural theology"

(1: 57).58 Disceming the character of the interaction of the elements of our description leads

us to draw inferences about moral activity (2: 46). Through this, both Gustafson and

Aquinas are able to come to a perception of the interrelationship of all things, which

influences their ethical understanding.59 Both offer an image of creation as ordered under

God, interacting to the glory of the creator. Description leads to the perception of

interdependence and of radical dependence on God, which Aquinas caUs the unity of aU

things (2: 53).

Perhaps the most important affinity theocentrism has with natural law theory is the

aspect of the ordering of nature. It can be said for both Aquinas and Gustafson that,

The basic pattern of ethics is the right ordering of things in relation to each other as each is related to the other for the sake of the purpose of the whole. And the source for understanding these relations of things to each other is given in the natural ordering of the creation (2: 45).

There is a general sense of moving from the is to the ought. Both naturallaw and theocentric

ethics temper empirical observation with general human experience of what is sensed to be

natural. Human inclinations about what is good are viewed at par with rationalistic

suppositions of the good (2: 9). On the other hand, Gustafson provides renewed emphasis

on the fact that the observations of the ordering of the natural world are not sufficient to the

ordering of one's actions. The requisites for life we receive through nature and culture make

our moral judgements ultimately dependent upon what is (2: 296). Even so, this does not

mean such requisites are tools sufficient in themselves for determining a moral order of

things, as naturallaw theorists often assume to be the case. Gustafson senses the ambiguity

of meaning in the patterns and processes of the interdependence of life; they are a necessary

starting point for our moral discemment, though alone they are inadequate indicators.

Whether we can de termine exactly what the patterns and processes are indicating to morality

66

IS questionable, though our capacity for action makes attempts at such discernment

necessary. 1{orality

is not a task of knowing what the immutable divine moral order of the universe is, and then developing institutions and human relations to conform to it. Because the sustaining and the goveming of life is itself both continuous and changing, the human cultural venture of moral and political ordering must be open to extension, development, and abandonment of some features of what is teceived (1: 242).

Gustafson cannot move so freely from the is to the ought because what is, is not unchanging,

and we are in part responsible for this change. In addition to this, he is able to provide a

correction to the direct observation-valuation relationship in natural law by pointing out a

tenet of this same program: human inclinations are considered important in guiding one

from the place of description to the place of ethical valuation (2: 9). There is no direct

correspondence; the web of beliefs and values we bear help bridge this gap, though in no

defi.nitive way.

Consequendy, Gustafson objects to the way Aquinas orders nature through the

Great Chain of Being, the ontological hierarchy of creation. The fust problem he finds is

that the chain do es not reflect the dynamic nature of the ordering of the wodd (2: 45). Of

course, the kind of science available to Aquinas was not adequate to indicate such dynamism.

But contemporary knowledge of the wodd must be applied to our moral ordering, and

Gustafson believes that if Aquinas were doing theology today, his concept of the order of

nature would not be immutable, but would reflect the fluctuating process that seems to take

place (2: 45). Gustafson's position can be seen as an updating of naturallaw in this respect.

His flexible understanding of ethical action is also stimulated by his contemporary view of

nature. For Aquinas, on the other hand, the order of charity is as immutable as the order of

being, and ethical possibilities for action are uncompromising. Gustafson considers this

untrue to experience, commenting, "Thomas's effort to develop an corder of charity'

implants on the dynamism of human nature a rigidity that violates it" (1: 313).

Contemporary scientific data also does not support the idea of a hierarchy of life in

which the "lower" forms serve the "higher" (2: 57 and 298). It is a mis comprehension to

regard the evolutionary process as aiming toward the generation of "superior" forms of life.

It has also been noted that Gustafson's God is not an extrapolation of perfected human

attributes, as Aquinas might have it. Humans are not doser to God's "perfection" than other

aspects of creation. Concepts of higher and lower are exchanged for creator and creation in

67

Gustafson's impression of the ordering of the world. His world is one in wruch all things are

"created equal," and thus nothing exists merely to serve something else. That God's power

and ordering are oriented to the fulfillment of individuals or even humanity is highly suspect.

This inherently anthropocentric aspect of the Great Chain of Being is indefensible.60

Sttuctured so that the order of being and the order of value coincide, it puts human beings at

the top of creation (1: 91f). All creation is related to humanity first, and only then to God.

Gustafson provides the correction that norms cannot be derived solely from description;

reason and emotion united in piety are required, too. This happy coincidence between being

and value is not present in theocentric ethics, and humanity is not guaranteed a position at

the top of our own moral ordering.

Though humans have a falsely exalted place in natural law, all things ultimately

proceed from and return to God. This makes God the primary ethical reference point, just

as in theocentric ethics. Value is given to creation from God, and we relate ourselves and all

life back to God accordingly. In this sense, the idea of exitus et. reditus is also ttue of

theocentric ethics. But Gustafson differs on the point of whether trus implies an

eschatological return to and immortal existence alongside God, seeing no evidence to

support trus (2: 55). Whereas naturallaw theory is teleological-all things have an ultimate

end to wruch they are oriented-theocentric ethics sees this orientation not as an

inevitability, but as an affective sruft in the perspective of the moral agent. A conversion to a

broader view of the world is not done under the compulsion of the divine, but through both

reason and affectivity. In natural law, the fact that the good end is definite means that an

objective moral order is embedded in the universe, and our orientation makes it evident to

us. This is a surety Gustafson cannot claim, since our sense of direction is in part detetmined

by our own creative capacities for action. Though theocentrism affirms that everything

begins in and depends on God, there is much more room for human freedom here than in

naturallaw. Gustafson thinks this, too, is commensurate with the experience of most.

For our purposes, the most important point to recognize in this comparison is the

similarity of natural law and theocentric ethics in their application to those outside the

Christian church. The sources upon wruch they draw, rughlighting experience and empirical

verification, mean that each "can be removed from its theological context to become a basis

for ethics" (2: 43). The word natural in naturallaw refers to the general availability of divine

order to natural reason, wruch is prior to, and can be apart from, religious belief. In the same

68

way, natu1:al piety rises up prior to a religious construal of piety, and so secular persons can

relate themselves to that which orders aIl things. This kind of flexibility is exceptional in the

theological realm. In natu1:allaw, its purpose is to widen God' s grace to reach those outside

of the church, while in Gustafson's thought it serves to demonsttate that a theocentric

orientation is not restricted to nominaIly Christian or even religious individuals. Thus, it

inttoduces an element necessary to the extension of theocentric ethics into the secular arena.

Despite the critiques of his colleagues, Gustafson persists in offering an ethical

theory that is true to life. His view of the world, including a broader understanding of what

can be considered to be of ethical consequence, allows the richness of experience to come

through in ethics. Rather than seeking to impose a foreign and rigid analytical structu1:e onto

the intricate and interwoven sttands of life, he offers clarity of thought and teaches modesty

of ethical ambition. He communÎcates to the agent the urgent need to take responsibility,

and the humility of knowing we are not able to work all things out for our good, or that of

the larger whole.

What is now required is to examine further how this view of the world can be shared

by those outside of the Christian church. In our following chapter we will determine to what

kind of secular philosophy theocentric ethics can appeal.

1 Gustafson, Christian Ethics and the Community, 98. 2 Gustafson, "A Response to Crities," 208. 3 Farley, 'Theocentrie Etlùes as a Genetie Argument," 40. 4 Audi, 178. 5 Martin L. Cook, "Reflections on James Gustafson's Theologieal-Etlùeal Method," Annual rf the Society rf Christian Ethics 17 (1997), 14. 6 James M. Gustafson, Intersections: Science, Theology, and Ethics (Cleveland: Pilgrim, 1996),37. 7 Midgley, Beast and Man, 90. See also her The Myths We Live By (London and New York: Roudedge, 2003), 156. 8 Paul Ramsey, "A Letter to James Gustafson," Journal rfRelifiollS Ethü:r 13:1 (1985), 91. 9 Reeder, 'The Dependence ofEtlùes," 135. 10 Gustafson, "Response," 208, and "Afterword," 241. 11 Reeder, 'The Dependence ofEtlùcs," 128ff. 12 Gustafson, "All1hings in Relation to God," 104. 13 Gustafson, "Response," 218. 14 Reeder, "The Dependence ofEthics," 120-33. 15 James M. Gustafson, "Nature: Its Status in Theologieal Ethics," Logos 3 (1982), 11. 16 Niebuhr, The Responsibk Self: An Ess~ in Christian Moral Philosop~, intro. James M. Gustafson (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1963): 100-13. 17 Midgley, Beast and Man, 155, italics in original. 18 Niebuhr, Radical Monotheism and Western Culture, 106. 19 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 103. 20 Adams, 28f 21 Ibid., 29. 22 Reeder, "The Dependence of Ethics," 129. 23 See also Gustafson,A Sense rfthe Divine, 106.

24 For additional comments on this see Schenck. 25 Midgley, Beast and Man, 346. 26 Gustafson, Christian Ethics and the Communi~, 62. 7:1 Reeder, "The Dependence of Ethics," 129. 28 Niebuhr, The Responsible Self, 61 ff. 29 See James M. Gustafson, The%gy and Christian Ethics (philadelphia: United Church, 1974), 73ff and Gustafson, "Ethical Issues in the Human Future," 501. 30 Gustafson, ''Response to Hartt," 695. 31 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 73. 32 Gustafson, Theoh!J and Christian Ethics, 84. 33 Additional comments on this can he found in Gustafson, "Ethical Issues in the Human Future," 497. 34 Cited in Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 23. 35 Midgley, Beast and Man, 249. 36 See also ibid, 258ff. 37 Gustafson, "Possibilities and Problems for the Study of Ethics," 241. 38 Gustafson, "All1bings in Relation to God," 96. 39 Ibid., 92. 40 James M. Gustafson, Can Ethics Be Christian? (Chicago and London: University of Chicago, 1975), 46f. 41 Gustafson, "Response," 215. See also Robert o. Johann, "An Ethics of Emergent Order," in James M. Gustafion j- Theocentric Ethics, 113. 42 In Reeder, 'The Dependence ofEthics," 122. Further explanations of this can he found in Reedei's ''Foundations without Foundationalism," in Prospects for a Common Morali~, eds. Gene Outka and John P. Reeder, Jr. (New Jersey:

69

Princeton University, 1993): 191-214; and William C. French, "Ecological Concems and the Anti-Foundationalist Debates: James Gustafson on Biospheric Constraints," Annua/ of the S ocie~ of Christian Ethics 17 (1997): 113-30. See also Richard J. Bernstein, Bryond Oljectivism and Re/ativism: Science, Hermeneutics, and Praxis (philadelphia: University of Philadelphia, 1983), 8. 43 Reeder, "Foundations without Foundationalism," 193. 44 Ibid, 195f. 45 Adams, 31. 46 Ibid. 47 Reeder develops this idea further in his response to theocentric ethics, 'The Dependence ofEthics," 120. 48 Gustafson, "Tracing a Trajectory," 185. 49 Gustafson in "Panel Discussion," 226. 50 Toulmin, "Nature and Nature's God," 48. 51 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 146 and "Ethical Issues in the Human Future," 502f. 52 Cf. Gustafson, ''Response to Hartt," 698. 53 Gustafson, "Afterword," 244. 54 The most prevalent example of this comes in Niebuhr's 'The Grace of Doing Nothing," in which he described his position on noninvolvement after the Manchurian invasion by Japan. While not one of mere quiescence, Niebuhr's ethical position tended to have a scrupulously patient tenor. Christian Century (23 March, 1932): 378-80. 55 Toulmin, The Retum to Cosmoh!J,256. 56 Two practical differences, for example, are their respective conclusions on matters ofbirth conttol and abortion, as Gustafson oudines in 1: 91 and 2: 20f. It should he noted, however, that many Roman Catholic theologians no longer consider naturallaw theory to proscrihe contraceptive methods. Sec the seminal document by Charles E. Curran et al., Dissent in and for the Church: The%gians and Humanae Vitae (New York: Sheed & Ward, 1969). 57 An additional comparison can be found in Adams. 58 Cf. Gustafson, ''Tracinga Trajectory," 185. 59 Gustafson, "A Response to Critics," 189. 60 An implicit critique of androcentrism is also indicated here: the aspect of reason, typicaUy hailed as a masculine quality, does not stand as the measure of greatness for living beings.

70

Chaptcr 3

SECULAR THEOCENTRISM

As indicated at the close of the previous chapter, natural law theory appeals to

Gustafson for its general applicability to non-religious philosophies: ''Thomas's theory of

naturallaw can be removed from its theological context to become a basis for ethics in a way

that nothing in Barth's work can" (2: 43). Gustafson has a clear preference for broad

applications of theology, and it is our thesis here that theocentrism can readily be worked

out in secular fonn. In our introduction it was noted that discussions of ethics-especially

relating to the environment-would benefit if a theocentric worldview was extended to

those outside the realms of Christian and religious faith. As a Christian thinker, Gustafson

conveys a description of God related to the world in language that is generally theological.

However, this is coupled with the assertion that "what can be said in these traditional

theological tenns can also be expressed in more abstract language, and one can find warrants

for it in nonreligious construals and explanations of the world of which we are a part" (1:

196).

In order to pursue this line of thought, we will compare Gustafson to a secular

thinker whose nonreligious construal of the world parallels his theological outlook. Mary

Midgley will be our leaming partner in this chapter, and will act as a concrete example of

what we mean when we say that theocentrism is applicable in the secular realm. While

secularism is, admittedly, a far-reaching tenu, for our purposes it is helpful to highlight

Midgley's nontheistic foundation as what separates her secular philosophy from theology.

We will begin our work by outlining sorne pnmary themes in her thought befme carrying on

with a comparison of Gustafson and Midgley. Their relationship will be illustrated by

recalling several elements of Gustafson's thought that have important implications for

moving to secular theocentric ethics. These include commonsense ontology, religious piety,

metanoia, and the senses.

Perhaps the most pivotaI point of this discussion cornes in addressing the element of

the divine. By de finition, theocentrism includes the belief in God. However, in this chapter it

will be shown that it is possible to extend the divine qualities that are most significant to

71

theocentrism, by way of functional equivalents, without imposing theistic belief.l There is a

connection between what Gustafson affums, and what scientificaIly infonned secular

philosophy can affum: both positions share a certain view of the natural world. Our task is

to oudine the way in which persons outside of religious faith relate themse1ves to ordering

power. Gustafson does not argue theocentrism as a kind of Christian pantheism, as the

divine is not exhausted by nature. Yet, since God is perceived through nature, much of what

can be understood about Gustafson's God is clarified by exchanging the word "God" with

"nature" in his description of the divine. This ex change guides us toward the proper point of

orientation in secular thought. A secular interpretation of Gustafson's theology results not in

pantheism, but in an expansion of vision that recognizes aIl things as interconnected in larger

and larger wholes. In effect, this is a recognition of a whole that is greater than the sum of its

parts.

Though we seek to extend a particular worldview and moral direction, it is not the

intention of this venture to proffer a unifonn philosophy and method of ethical

discemment. Gustafson's respect for cultural and social context prevents this uniformity,

and his ethics reveals his rejection of foolproof systems for ethical reasoning (cf. 2: 147 n. 6).

As he does not advocate for a simplistic universality, what is proposed here is not a common

system of ethics, but a way toward encouraging people, religious and secular, to look at the

world in a larger, more inclusive way, and to integrate additional elements into moral

description and consideration. This may lead to a thicker agreement on certain issues, and it

certainly willlead to a broader discussion of them, but we do not aim for homogeneity.

Mary Midgley

Gustafson cites Mary Midgley frequently in his two volumes, claiming they share

many of the same viewpoints (1: 282).2 Up to this point, we have only addressed the work of

Midgley as it relates directly to or helps clarify Gustafson's theology and ethics. Here we take

up Midgley's position on anthropocentrism, and the solution she puts forward, in order to

present them as secular functional equi,:alents of theocentric conclusions. Our purpose is

not to show that Gustafson and Midgley are in systematic agreement on an ethical process.

Rather, it is to demonstrate that, despite variant contexts, audiences, and aims, both see the

same problem from two different angles and arrive at similar conclusions. They attempt to

transfonn ways of thinking present in their respective contexts. Gustafson's audience

72

includes the Christian church. Midgley seems to have two audiences: the scientific

cotntnunity, and larger secular culture, both of which tend to disregard the connection

between scientific findings and philosophical and ethical worldviews. Gustafson attacks

anthropocentrism, while Midgley, in a parallel vell, makes a complaint against reductive

humanism. Gustafson's theocentrism leads him to posit a view of the world that relates all

values to God. For Midgley, a broader description and moral view leads her to cotntnend the

Gaia theory. Examining these two positions in tandem will bring us back full circle to a view

that what is required in order to care for the earth is an outlook on the universe that takes

into account the ordering of ail aspects of life.

Midgley is renowned as a philosopher of human nature and science. Through her

books, articles, and teaching, she has made frequent attacks on scientism, reductive

humanism, and environmental abuse. Her writing displays expert understanding of classical

and contemporary philosophy, and reveals her competence in understanding current

scientific and technological research. Yet she engages these sources with a fresh perspective

and an open mind, often bringing the reader to reject former assumptions. Midgley shows a

certain tolerance for religion, though she is not herself a theist. Like Gustafson, she wants to

open her work up to speak to both religious and secular persons.3 In expressing her own

ontology, she shows great respect for the "necessity of taking seriously the perspective of

ordinary life.,,4 She includes within her philosophy a description of humans as ethical agents,

generaIly relating the ought to the is: "One cannot sensibly ask how people ought to be related

to one another without making some assumptions about the kind of beings that they are."s

She also devotes an entire chapter of Beast and Man to the statement that "there is not ... any

special difficulty about 'reasoning from facts to values.",6 As our desires and wants are part

of our character, and not easily changeable, they are facts of our being that lead us to value

certain things as good. At the same cime, Midgley has difficulties with the nature of fact­

value relations in naturallaw. According to her, it is the particular facts one chooses for an

ethical basis that are of distinct importance.7 11Us is similar to Gustafson's approach, which

indicates that m_ere observation of nature does not in itself provide moral guidance. A

process of discemment, including both rational and affective components, is required in

order to be able to notice the cues communicated through the natural world.

In the same way, Midgley emphasizes a kind of discemment process that is required

in addressing the task and findings of the sciences. While Gustafson has been berated for

73

viewing science in a naïvely positive fashion, Midgley's critics have often accused her of

holding a negative view of science. However, it is important to understand before venturing

further into her thought that the flavour of her agenda is not anti~science, but anti­

scientism.8 She wants westerners to take a long look at science, and understand that it is not

entirely an objective, disinterested activity.9 Rather, as our primary means of discovery, a

major contributor to our worldview, and the thing in which most people have implicit faith,

it is often a substitution for religion. N onetheless, scientism is a disordered religion; those

who discover something are revered, while what is discovered is merely utiIized.10 We might

drawa comparison here with Gustafson's assessment of the utiIization of God in Christian

theology. Recall the statement that Christian theologians are often more interested in each

other than in God. In addition to this critique, Midgley makes it clear that scientific research

goals, and even research methods, can be manipulated to suit human desires and priorities.

Science is not an incorruptible discipline; it is quite possible to attach values and desires onto

it. Midgley also recognizes that contemporary western society holds on to the modern notion

of the "omni-competence of science," or the ability of science and technology to solve all

problems. This leads to ideas of unending human progress and the freedom of humans to

engage in the activities of their choosing.ll This myth, she comments, is dangerous in that it

isolates humanity from the rest of the natural world, whereas the fact of the matter is that

humans are continuous with the nature around us. The negative effect we have on our

environment cannot be corrected through only technological means, whereas it can be

greatly alleviated when we take more responsibility for our actions.

In noticing the cues of the natural world, and disceming helpful moral indications

from them, both Gustafson and Midgley recognize the same human problem. As Gustafson

attacks anthropocentrism in the religious sphere, so Midgley attacks reductive humanism, a

sis ter term, in the secular and scientific spheres.12 She provides the same answer as

Gustafson, while admitting that they arrive at their conclusions by different means: he by

way of God and she by way of the natural world. Midgley gauges that the heart of the

problem o.f reductive humanism or anthropocentrism is engrained in dominant western

society, rather than the Christian tradition.13 She believes that Christianity is not, at its core,

megalomaniac, since it places humanity under God and God's scheme for the world-a

dogma Gustafson would greatly like to see remembered.14 In Midgley's view, it is only that

Christianity has been corrupted by the human desires for perfection and independence.

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These hold inherent problems for the human sense of self-importance in the universe.15

Certain philosophical sources, including existentialism, tend to orient humanity "as if the

world contained only dead matter (things) on the one hand and fully rational, educated, adult

human beings on the other."16

In addressing Gustafson's work, Midgley critiques theocentric ethics as not quite

reaching to the root of the problem. The root, as she understands it, is not that we view

ourselves as central: "In any system, different elements can be viewed as central according to

the angle from which we consider it at a given time."17 The problem comes when humanity

starts to compete for the whole of value, considering the race as central from all angles. For

instance, evolutionary theory has often been used to position humanity at the top of a

pyramid, as some kind of omega point.18 From some view, perhaps, we are at the top; we

have higher faculties of rationality and affectivity. However, if we consider these capacities to

be alI-important, or objective measures of value, we begin to lose sight of the goodness of

the rest of the world, as weIl as the goodness of those qualities within us that are not unique

to our species, but continuous with other animal life. This critique adds clarification to

Gustafson's move away from anthropocentrism; it helps rein force that one can retain a sense

of human distinctiveness while also seeing value in relation to larger and larger wholes. For

this reason, Midgley's critique actuaIly helps Gustafson's program along, rather than injuring

it.

By considering humanity wholly central, we have become our own object of

worship. Midgley observes that for those who do not believe in a kingdom in heaven, there

is no choice but to look for a kingdom on earth. Humanism rose by promoting the

dominance of one set of human qualities over another, namely will and intellect, making all

other qualities instrumental to them. It has the tendency of subjecting all value to human

standards, thus leading to a reverence for humanity in the character of religious worship.19

While we have ejected God from the seat of power and made humanity the objective centre

of value, we have not been able to rid ourselves of the urge for reverence or the need to

create what Midgley calls "wild cosmic fantasies." Whatever the locations of our centre of

value, "we are liable to build myths around them that are both pernicious and surprisingly

silly."zo Such myths include the idea of infinite human progress. Working alongside this are

our efforts to recoil from any sense of wonder at the natural world.21 These feelings are seen

by many as too close to an actual religion, even though the event of self-worship is ignored.

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Concerns such as these indicate a disordering of value. Midgley's de finition of the problem

at hand, while offering the minor correction we have noted, is remarkably similar to that of

theocentrism:

Reductive humanism, steadily narrowing the field of our concern, has eut short our natural hwnan interests in three stages. It first attacked the heavens, cutting out our idea of God and of nonhwnan spirits. Next it amputated the earth, ruling that nonhwnan nature was alien and did not concern us. But now third, and most alarming, it attacks the structure of hwnan life itself, isolating each individual in the supposedly impregnable fortress ofhis own autonomous will.22

Though Midgley is not religious, the solution she offers is not to give up on our

inclination for reverence, as if religion were actually Freudian illusion. Instead she advises

that humans revere the proper objects in the appropriate amounts. This indudes not only

ourselves, but other life forms, and the world around us. She would like us to recall Darwin's

explication of evolution, which is not set up as a pyramid, but resembles more of a bush,

with each branch moving outward, and stemming off in different directions, yet always

remaining connected to the other branches.23 Showing an understanding for the nature of

incommensurate goods and values in the world she writes, "Creatures diverge, each to its

own way of life, each finding its own characteristic sort of fulfillment.,,24 Understanding that

there are different types of fulfilment and fittedness means respecting forms of life and

aspects of creation apart from hwnanity. Hwnanism must move beyond its reductive form

in order to "understand and save man.,,25 For this reason, Midgley commends holding

hwnanity not apart from the animaIs, but among them, as was discussed in our first chapter.

She first questions, ''Why should not our excellence involve our whole nature?" and then

states, "Our dignity arises within nature, not against it.,,26 Hwnanists tend to see hwnanity as

objectively central; but seeking out what is onlY hwnan means we never arrive at what is JullY hwnan.27 Midgley, too, perceives patterns and processes essential to human existence,

though they are not unique to it. They offer a sense of continuity for our lives, and indude

instincts and habits.28 In this way, she demonstrates that we are not self-sufficient but, as

Gustafson would have it, radically dependent on what is given. What is given includes both

external goods and our internaI nature, which is continuous with the nature outside of us.

Subsequendy, many things we value as good can be found among other forms of life:

We plainly have no monopoly on many valuable elements, such as kindness and affection. We did not, personally and unassisted, invent every aspect of humanity.

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Much of it is drawn from a common source, and overlaps with dolphinity, beaverishness, and wolfhood 29

We share with other animals the capacity to order our preferences, to make decisions, to

value, and to feel pain. To respect humanity in isolation is, in any light, to do a disservice to

other aspects of creation. Midgley wants the reader to understand that only a proper respect

for aIl things willlead to a proper ordering of values in daily human life.

The problem, be it anthropocentrism or reductive humanism, is that humans have

not overcome the desire for self-aggrandizement. Now that we understand Midgley's

approach to the problem from a secular philosophical and scientific point of view, we can

see that both she and Gustafson perceive the same kind of world and the same problems

therein. It becomes necessary to extend theocentric ethics to the secular sphere by showing

commonalities in basic description. In doing so, we will compare their respective rationales

for these assessments. Following this, we will examine the solution at which Midgley arrives,

and relate it to the theocentric directive of valuing all things in relation to God.

Commonsense OntoJogy

Stephen Toulmin has lamented that for too long scientists and theologians have

explored cosmology in ways that have ignored each other's findings. 30 He sees Gustafson as

the person to bring these two sides together and to correct their respective faults. We noted

in our introduction how similar these faults are at their core. Gustafson wams the

theological community that it is difficult to assure humans of eschatological notions of

personal salvation or immortality; however our species finds its end, this will take place long

before the destruction of our habitat, reinforcing our place as one part of creation, rather

than its crown (1: 240 and 268). In the same mode, he wams against secular confidence in

human progress. The self-improvement of humanity will end, and not ail things are or will

be within our control. We must not put up these illusions for ourselves but see ourselves as

part of something much greater and far beyond our own plans.

Toulmin is not the only critic outside of the Christian academy to favour Gustafson's

approach. Our constructive task is, in part, justified by the fact that Gustafson's secular

commentators are more sympathetic to the program than those in Christian theology and

ethics.31 This supports much of what we will see Gustafson say about the application of the

sense of the divine and natural piety to those outside of a religious tradition. He relates weIl

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to the nontheologian because he uses a variety of influences and sources, including science,

literature, law, and the input of nontheologians (1: ix and xz). As we noted in the previous

chapter, he recognizes the truth shown in naturallaw: the basis for knowledge of the wotld,

whether from a religious or secular perspective, must be made up of an initial description

refined by evidences from the sciences. Gustafson brings the reader to the understanding

that there is more than one way to intetpret objects: "One can have a scientific perception

and explanation of the same phenomenon that can be perceived and construed aesthetically

and religiously" (1: 227). For instance, Midgley's intetpretation of the way things are does

not bring her to a construction of theology or religion, but it does venture into a place also

friendly to theological description.32 As Midgley notes, "Asking different kinds of questions

pro duces quite different kinds of answers; they are usually not reducible to one another,

though they must be compatible.,,33 The scientific understanding of an object can

complement its theological construal. Gustafson's reason for looking outside theological

circles for inspiration is that he does not see his own experience of the divine as unique or

sectarian (1: x). While his aim is to help the church discem the ethical situation, his work also

extends to bridge the gap between secular and religious minds.

A respect for the secular influence within Gustafson's sources allows us to come to

certain conclusions. A person's view of the wotld is shaped initially by the web of beliefs that

are presupposed in moral discemment. While Gustafson is disinclined to posit anything

univers al, even an experience of the ultimate source of value, he does start with the premise

that one can act based on the assumption that creation is good, though not necessarily good

for us. This goodness has the potential to cause awe, and can even orient our action; both of

these responses are fitting. Such assumptions help construct the web of beliefs that can be

considered the starting point for theocentric theology and secular Gustafsonian philosophy

alike. Midgley seems to be in agreement with the idea that there are certain connected beliefs

that we employ in working out our value system. She expresses the nature of these beliefs as

a web when she writes, "What we need is not an ultimate floor at the bottom of the universe

but simply a planet with a good strong reassuring pull that will keep us together and stop us

falling off it.,,34

Midgley's concept of the goodness of things also relates to Gustafson's. Both are

interested in defining the good in relation to our description of what is real. Midgley does

not posit an immutable good order, but, like Gustafson, takes her cues for moral

78

construction from arenas such as nature and culture. Also like Gustafson, she works from

particular elements of human experience of the good toward a more general and unified

description. It is clear to her that good ends are incommensurate. Similarly, what seems good

in our constructed moral codes may not always correspond seamlessly with what is good in

nature; for example, most humans cannot help but feel sympathy for prey, though it is clear

that the predator-prey relationship is a crucial part of the ordering of ecosystems. But the

fact that perceived individual good ends are incommensurate does not mean that they are

not commonly grounded. Midgley takes the position that there is an intellectual need among

humans to view the cosmos as a whole.35 In recounting Platonic thought, she reveals her

impression that there is a single notion of the good:

It is, as Plato righrly said, a central notion, because it expresses our belief that aIl the other things we calI good do in some way at some remote point convCfJ!,c-that our nature, in spite of its conflicts, is not radicalIy and hopelessly and fina11y plural, but essentialIy one. The notion of good is central to us, because of its place in the structure.36

While Midgley's concern is with a moral notion of oneness and goodness, her emphasis on

seeing humanity and nature together, rather than separately, leads to an understanding of the

goodness underlying ail thingS.37 Gustafson also relates everything to the unity of experience,

and his web of beliefs infers the goodness of God and God's works. Individual goods may

be incommensurate, but they are yet linked to the concept of a good that is beyond what is

good for humanity. This orients our moral framework.

As our two focal thinkers, despite their separate contexts, begin with similar sources

for description, there are ideas that come out of Gustafson's theological requisites that can

be transposed onto secularism through the device of functional surrogates or equivalents.

For instance, the initial experience of the natural world described by various people is similar

enough to alIow individuals from different places and traditions to engage in moral

discernment together. In order to understand this we must reca11 Reeder's oudine of the

three dimensions of Gustafson's ethics: theocentrism, substantive notions for flourishing,

and functional requisites for human society. The latter two of these, which are dependent

upon the first, can be non-theological and thus contain prospects for wide agreement. As in

theological ethics, philosophical systems have premises upon which they are dependent. AIl

ethical systems begin with a web of beliefs founded upon that knowledge to which the

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subject has access. Reeder would daim that Gustafson's philosophical rationale, which takes

the fonn of theocentrism, is understandable in tenns both theological and non-theological:

The rationale is a composite of elements that produce a principle to the effect that the good of the whole creation should be attended to. Part of the rationale for this principle can be shared with others, namely, beliefs about the solar system, gratitude, the value of the whole. Keeping sorne of Gustafson's views and adding others, Mary Midgley or Mahayana Buddhists, for example, could come up with a similar first principle; the welfare of all sentient beings or of the whole cosmos.38

This rneans that, from start to finish, a secularist or a person from a different

religious tradition can have a philosophy functionally similar to theocentrism. In Gustafson's

description, the rationale takes on the element of theism, while from the perspective of a

nonreligious person it might be similarly articulated in a nontheistic manner. What makes

this possible is Gustafson's own consttual of the nature of theistic belief as a source for

ethics. He understands Jhat, for all individuals, personal devotion and perceived moral

responsibility rest with questions about the object of our confidence, loyalty, hope, and

affections (1: 224f). While everyone will be morally devoted in a certain way; not everyone

will describe the same object of affection: "For many persons the answers do not lead to an

affirmation of the presence of an ultimate power sustaining and bearing down upon life.

There are functional surrogates to religion as 1 understand it" (1: 225).

Locating functional surrogates or equivalents requîtes finding the elements of

theocentrisrn that can be transposed onto secularism without altering what it means to be

nontheistic. One source of description that cannot be forced is Christian tradition, induding

its scripture, theology, and community .. While this may appear at first to leave theocentrism

at a loss, there is opportunity in Gustafson's thinking for this. In fact, the critiques we have

seen him make regarding his own tradition make room for a parallel secular philosophy.

Neville Richardson highlights the flexibility of Gustafson's outline of the God-human

relationship in the following way:

Theocentrism ... does not mean the obliteration or even the diminution of the value of the human. Nor does it imply the availability of a God's-eye-view of things. It seems to suggest the (human) ability to see things as a whole and especially to see oneself and even all humanity in tenns of a far greater (now) empirically evident whole.39

Gustafson's moral philosophy largely eschews metaphysical description, which does

much to open the door to morality without a theistic foundation (1: 76 and 2: 97). Though

his primary concem is always with the church, it is clear in his work that neither the church

80

nor religion in general holds any unique moral authority. A practical example adds weight to

this conclusion. In his earlier book, Can Ethics Be Christian?, he recaIls an experience in a bar

with a secular colleague, who, in an awkward situation involving an intoxicated third party,

acts like a "moral virtuoso." Gustafson admires his behaviour and is shamed by his own

inability to determine how to participate in the situation. His observation is that "a secular

ontology can serve as weIl as God to satisfy the quest for the necessary conditions for

morality.,,40 William Schweiker also recognizes the possibilities for exchanging the divine

with a secular ontology, saying that Gustafson both caIls the agent to order life according to

divine purposes and acknowledges that there is no certain insight into these purposes

provided by particular religions. Thus, "Gustafson's theology seeks to address the authentic

natural piety of secular but morally serious persons.,,41

We must ask whether the device of the functional surrogate for God gives rise to the

complaint, voiced by William J. Meyer, that it is erroneous for theological ethicists to accept

the idea that ethics can be founded on something other than theism.42 Since theism requires

a belief that aIl aspects of life are dependent on or related to God, ethics that does not posit

a God cannot communicate how to relate anything properly. Gustafson do es indeed relate

aIl things to God as the source of value. However, in introducing functional equivalents of

theology he allows the secular person a nontheistic source of value. Whatever this surrogate

may be, it is still considered the source of what is real and ultimate. For those with a religious

interpretation, what is real and ultimate will be translated into God and God's relations with

creation. For the nontheist, the real and ultimate may be limited to the perceived patterns

and processes, or their ordering. Midgley has an affinity for the idea that affectivity can be

religious or nonreligious in nature:

Wonder, the sense of otherness, is one of the sources of religion (not the other way around), but it is also the source of curiosity and every vigorous use of our faculties, and an essential condition of sanity. And there is less difference than some people suppose between its religious and its scientific expression. When the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, he only said what any true naturalist may say to himself, whether he believes in any god or not.43

Gustafson has shown that if a pers on has properly ordered values, this is indicative of an

understanding of a source of value that is beyond the human. The experience of an ultimate

source of value, then, can be common among religious and secular persons, though

interpretations and affective responses are shaped differendy.

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Following this line of thinking, Reeder likens Gustafson's concept of religion to that

of Clifford Geertz: religion is not a matter of being tied to a notion of the divine, as opposed

to the profane, but a matter of being concerned with what is ultimately real.44 Gustafson is

not only conscious of the way religious people are aware of ultimate dependence; he also

observes that most humans in the world attempt to relate themselves to ultimate power.

Edward Farley, the critic who has pointed out that Gustafson's ontology is of the

commonsense variety, also agrees that Gustafson's starting point it not the positing of a

divine being. Rather, itis the description of ~'a situation and a concatenation of realities.,,45

We now understand why the phrase "how some things really and ultimately are" is so

important to associating theocentrism with the secular sphere. It allows for the outline of an

ethics that "is generally accessible to Christians, atheists, and others in our pluralistic

world.,,46 While theocentric ethics certainly is God-centred, we can argue that what is

essential to its normative content is not theism so much as the commonsense ontology

underlying that theism. Gustafson's initial description of our circumstances prompts him to

develop a theology that is his own affective response to the description. However, one can

move from a similar description to a compatible philosophy without going through religious

affectivity: "Although one may have a theology that justifies a certain worldview, another

participant doesn't necessarily have to agree with the theology in order to agree with that

view of the world.,,47 It follows, then, that since the middle portion of theocentric ethics is

dependent on commonsense ontology, anyone with a similar ontology, be it theistic or not,

can use Gustafson's ethics. And so the following statement made by Midgley is one with

which Gustafson would agree:

The first point to consider is not whether there is a God .... It is how, in this life, we are to view and interpret both the world around us and the world within us. We need ways of thinking which are unifying enough to give us guiding patterns, but not so strongly reductive as to leave out something important.48

Common Sources

Identifying secular equivalents is accomplished by understanding the flexibility of a

commonsense ontology rising out of the sources of reason, emotion, experience of the

natural, and scientific evidences. It was reasoned before the event of modern science that the

world is not the playground of humanity. Not aIl Greek philosophers held to the

Protagorean assertion that man is the measure of aIl things (1: 88 and 190). Despite his

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awareness of these reasoned conclusions, and bis respect for the source of reason,

Gustafson does not aim toward the rational persuasion of secular persons. Ibis is

unnecessary according to bis own understanding of human nature and expenence.

Secularists are no more limited to rationalism than are religious persons, but are also aware

of experience that is subjective.

Gustafson understands that most people can agree, "there is a knowing that comes

through loving, through fearing, through pleasure" (1: 229). The relationsbip between

rationality and affectivity is evidenced by the use of both in daily living.49 Midgley, too,

attempts to unite the reason or will and affectivity among secular readers. She understands

emotion to be ordered and guided by reason, though the domination of one by the other

should not be part of that process.50 As she reminds us, ''Natural feelings ... are not just

loose facts about us; they are the sort of thing that constitutes our central goOd.,,51 ln order

to exercise free will, basic desires and feelings about things are required to help form one's

desires and direction. Without emotion, we cannot determine what is a desired good; but

without reason, we cannot choose responsibly between two conflicting goods.

ln discovering a secular equivalent for theocentric orientation, affectivity is certainly

not a feature to be left out. As Harlan Beckley interprets, "The religious consciousness,

whether in natural piety or religious piety, feels and articulates the presence of a reality that is

beyond what can be inferred from scientific investigation."52 Midgley's contribution is to

distinguish God and the soul from those things for wbich we have no evidence, those

"unimaginably distinct unicoms.,,53 While God and the soul are not scientificaIly verifiable,

she gives credence to the "evidence aIl around us" for such things, and does not dis credit

altemate ways of knowing. Gustafson provides a further word on the matter:

Religious dimensions of dim or articulate senses of dependence on the environment and interdependence with it, a sense of the contingency of our lives and the natural world relative to our powers to control them, are probably present in all the world's religions, on a continuum from those that have been caIled aninùstic to the most radical views of divine transcendence. They are also found in the natural piety 1 have noted to be present in many secular persons as weIl. 54

ln finding ways in wbich theocentrism can be translated into the secular arena, we must

include the need for rational proofs and the more subjective element of affectivity.

One of the most clearly stated reasons why Gustafson's ethics can arise out of the

same description as that of many nontheists is presented in bis treatise on environmental

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awareness. In A Sense of the Divine, Gustafson clarifies that the natural world provides

humanity with a common source of experience from wruch we reason:

What is finaUy indisputable, 1 think, is that human and other forros of life are dependent upon forces we do not create and cannot fully control, forces that bring us into being and sustain us and life around us, but forces that also limit and destroy us and deterroine the destiny of the cosmos. This dependence--a matter of fact, no matter how it is interpreted--evokes a sense of the . sublime, or for some of us a sense of the divine. 55

He concludes trus thought by writing, "Nature is the theatre of the power and glory of the

Divine. It provides a moral stance." Since rus description of the way things really and

ultimately are rests upon a modem understanding of the fluidity of nature, rus basic ontology

is perceptible to the secular mindset, even apart from rus theistic position.56 Gustafson is in

line with most contemporary secular thinkers as far as a description of human existence is

concemed. The other sources he uses, wruch highlight human experience and the sciences,

come out of trus naturalistic basis, also finding affinity with secular lines of reason.57 Apart

from the more particular eiements of rus theistic description, then, Gustafson's sources find

their functional equivalents in secular ontology.

NaturaJ Piety

We have only begun to outline the link that commonsense ontology provides

between secular and religious persons. Using the common sources of reason, affectivity,

nature, and science is not enough in itself to pro duce a sense of something greater than

humanity. What Gustafson's theology requires for trus leap is religious piety and metanoia or

conversion. Religious piety, of course, by definition cannot exist in secularism, and

conversion is often considered exclusively religious, as weIl. The question is whether these

more overtly religious elements of theocentrism have secular functional equivalents.

Theology, as Gustafson considers it, is an articulation of a pious orientation. When

we speak about functional equivalents of theology, we are speaking in particular of what is

parallel to religious piety. Gustafson gives reason to think that piety is not purely a religious

thing. First and foremost, piety is a human affective response to the powers that sustain and

bear down upon us, and to what is perceived as real and ultimate. Piety can extend, as

Gustafson puts it, to "the scientist, the dedicated hedonist, the hard-driving corporate

executive, and every pers on" (1: 199). While it is true that developments like

84

anthropocentrism have led many people to a contracted view of reality, when secularists are

opened up to another "dimension" of life beyond the realm of immediate personal concems,

they make a leap similar to the kind made by religious persons in relating aU values to God

(1: 135).

Gustafson's point is not that some secular pers ons are unknowingly theistic. Nor

does he want to make Christianity or other religions indistinct from secularism (1: 18). An

aspect of character often considered purely religious, such as an orientation toward

something ultimate, is really something more common than a particular religious sentiment.

When Gustafson writes that the main questions of religion relate to the ultimate object of

our confidence, loyalty, hope, and love, he does not require that the answers be overtly

religious, nor does he understand these to be questions addressed only by the religious

person (1: 225). It is appropriate here to import the definition of religious affections offered

by William James: "Religious awe is the same organic thrill which we feel in a forest at

twilight, or in a mountain gorge; only this time it comes over us at the thought of our

supematural relations.,,58 Our affections, then, are not primari1y religious, but natural and

common. As Midgley has already proposed, it is only a secondary movement to construe

them religiously. At one point Gustafson explains his approach to theology in the following

way: "Theology is the noun, Christian is the modifier" (1: 278). We might aIso say,

"Affectivity is the noun, religious (or secular) is the modifier." Religious piety is a particular

move one makes to relate natural affectivities and their objects to divine ultimate power or

powers (1: 195f). It is not a necessary move, but one that stems from context. The affectivity

of religious people is, in part, directed by their position within culture, society, religious

community, and even by their own individual characters. These things can evoke a sense of

the divine (1: 227).59

Similarly, natural affections can give rise to a naturally pious philosophy. This means

there is a tenable position on the spectrum between radical secularity and pious religiosity,

which we might consider a pious secularity. Gustafson's name for it is natural piety.

The experience of a lovely landscape, or of remorse for causing suffering, does not evoke religiousaffectivity because somewhere 1n the Bible it says the heavens declare the glory of God or that one is guilty when one causes harm to others. Rather, a moment of deeply appreciated aesthetic response is, in the consciousness of the beholder who has consented to certain fundamental aspects and oudooks from the biblicai tradition, aiso a moment of "natural piety" (1: 233).

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TIùs is articulated more succincdy by saying that just as it is claimed that there is a natural

law available to aIl, so there is a piety in which aIl pers ons can participate: ''What we have are

different ways of describing and explaining it.,,60 Natural piety occurs when the world around

us evokes in us senses of awe and corresponding obligation, while theocentric piety is

shaped when the natural world evokes in us aIl these things by way of a sense of the divine. 61

It is usually within a religious tradition that one begins to relate experience religiously to an

ultimate power, while others outside of those traditions, or rejecting those traditions, tend to

remain in the realm of natural piety. Gustafson does not see one as a more authentic

response than the other, though he may deem one more persuasive according to his own

experience.62 Both provoke the same kind of moral discemment, even from differing

contexts.

TIlls supports the idea that the theistic belief suggested in theocentric ethics is not

actuaIly the hinge on which the program turnS. Gustafson claims as much in writing that

theocentrism

does force persons to perceive and interpret man in relation to the ultimate power and orderer of aIl of the creation .... This is not to claim that Mary Midgley and many others cannot adequately perceive the place of man in relation to nature without a theology or an avowed theocentric interpretation of life. The enlargement of vision that a theocentric perspective enables certainly can be achieved, at least in considerable measure, from nontheological perspectives (1: 308).63

He is obviously very comfbrtable with secular individuals such as Midgley, who, though

agnostic or atheistic, have a sense of wonder and appreciation for nature.64

Midgley understands natural piety within the concept of reverence for all things.

While we have seen that Gustafson encourages a respect for living things that faIls short of a

consideration of inttinsic value, Midgley insists on the word reverence for its affective value.

Both religious and nonreligious belief systems should encourage wonder. This is necessary in

order to as certain what is of value.65 Awe, then, is not indicative of religion in the proper

sense, but it does have religious aspects, as might Marxism.66 She defends reverence on the

same ground that she defends anthropomorphic language for animaIs: it is not possible to be

neutral or objective toward nature because we always tend to project onto it, to make it

personal. In doing so, we will either view it with contempt and prey upon it, or view it with

respect and care for it.67 In aIl our attempts to rid the world of mystery, humans have not

been able to exclude from this process some element of personification. And, of course,

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Midgley scoms the contempt of nature prevalent in the seventeenth century, which

characterized nature as a female and subsequently raped her.

Gustafson generaily shies away from overtIy religious speech, so it is of great interest

that in explaining the need for a new description of aU things, Midgley tends to favour highly

religious language. For instance, Midgley caUs for humanists to consider more things as

"sacred" than merely human life.68 ln her understanding, this language helps us in conceiving

a moral outlook that unites science and spirituality.69 What is significant about these religious

terms is not that they lead her in a different direction than Gustafson. In essence, they are

striving toward the same thing: an appreciation of nature, and the ways in which nature is

ordered, apart from its instrumental value to humanity. Gustafson's concem, relative to his

Christian audience, is to keep God and nature separate, at least in a definitional way,

remaining true to Christian monotheism and avoiding any hint of pantheism. Midgley,

however, has no such loyalties, and is more concemed with bringing nontheistic persons out

of reductive humanism. Since some form of reverence will always exist in human

consciousness, it must be directed somewhere. Midgley has no interest in positing a god, and

so reverence must be directed toward the most ultimate thing to which a nontheist can

relate: the ordering of nature. While Midgley might be accused of understanding value as

inttinsic to nature, her concem is not to show that individual parts of nature are sacred, but

that the larger ordering itself is sacred and worthy of reverence. Midgley cails us to think

about the ways in which the terres trial whole, of which we are a part, directly concems us, and would still do so even if we could get away with abusing it. As 1 am suggesting, we shail never grasp the nature of that kind of concem so long as we try to model it on the civic concem that links feilow-citizens. Dulies 10 wholes, of which one is a part, nalural/y differ in flrm jrom dulies 10 olher individuals.70

A second difference between Gustafson and Midgley in their use of tenus comes

with the word "piety." However, this difference is only superficial. Midgley defi.nes natural

piety in relation to ultimate trust. Ultimate trust, she writes, "is a matter of ptofound reliance,

of what one believes lies under the surface of life, what will endure when that is shaken.,,71

Altemately, Gustafson divorces piety ftom trust. He comes at the ptoblem ftom a

theological context, which, for too long, has commended trust in God for the human good.

This is the ptoblem he needs to correct. Midgley, however, has a different context and a

different problem to correct; she needs to speak to those of a scientific mindset and help

them remember that we ail put our trust, fundamentally, in something. Like Gustafson,

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Midgley is trying to point out that we must expand our vision to recognize that which is

larger than ourselves or our species. Rather than relating Midgley's idea of trust to

Gustafson's critique of faith, it is more instructive to see the former as connected to the

theocentric notion of consent. Both must be measured and considered, but, ultimately,

offered wholeheartedly.

While there is a place in secular society for natural piety, what is largely present is an

attitude of anthropocentrism. Gustafson's program begins with a critique of the current

situation, c1aiming that a process of repentance and conversion is required to recentre

human society. Though he does not wish to turn nontheists into theists, he would still claim

that some kind of conversion, or metanoia, is important for the expansion of ethical

concem. What is indicated, then, is a kind of transformation that must take place in the

secular arena as well as the religious one. In secular metanoia, a person is oriented to a

natural idea through natural affections. This reorientation is akin to the ethical conversion

discussed by James.72 He helps point out that conversion is not only a religious occurrence; it

is a human one. Gustafson's expansion of vision to include the whole applies also to secular

per~ons:

1 am persuaded that a turn in ethical thinking is required, if not from humanity to God, at least from humanity to the signs of an ordering of life which is objective to individuals, objective to communities of persons, and objective to our species.73

Part of the secular avoldance of the concept of metanoia comes with the idea that

conversion is an instantaneous change in thinking and values that is the product of unbridled

emotion and religious compulsion. However, we avoid this problem when we connect

metanoia to James's understanding of a second type of conversion. This type is classified as

volitional, and consists of a lengthy and gradual process characterized by a largely

subconscious adoption of new moral and spiritual habits.74 It is a change in the character of

that group of ideas to which the individual is devoted, ideas we might include within a

primary web of beliefs. James calls a person's ideas the "habituaI centre of his personal

energy," indicating that one's basic beliefs and ideas help shape moral discemment and

action.75 The" conversion comes when one set of ideas moves from the periphery to the

centre of consciousness. While a person converts from one ideology to another, this

conversion is considered to be psychologically, not supematurally, initiated. Moreover, it is a

settled disposition arrived at not in order to appeal to a divine power, but to come to a closer

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understanding of how some things really and ultimately are. Quite obviously, this is what

Gustafson means when he speaks even of religious conversion. An orientation toward God

is an affective shift associated with the conclusions that arise from examining one's web of

beliefs about the world, and determining one's current view of life to be too narrow. This

idea is also present in Midgley's thought. She considers religion at its core not to be about

factual belief, but about seeing oneself in a greater whole, with larger aims than one's own.

This calls for a change in attitude from scientism and reductive humanism to a view that

takes in the world around us, evocative of Gustafson's enlargement of vision and metanoia.76

Therefore, while Midgley never uses terms like natural piety or conversion, she does develop

something like them in her work.

Gustafson argues that natural piety, as a response to the natural world, can increase

with greater scientific understanding of that world (1: 227 and 262).77 This is an assertion

echoed by Midgley.78 She commends those scientists who seem to exhibit something akin to

Gustafson's natural piety through the course of their work, naming among them Julian

Huxley, Bertrand Russell, and Theodosius Dobzhansky.79 What it is that they understand,

she writes, is "the inevitable slightness of the whole scientific achievement and its absurd

disproportion to the vastness of what there is to be known."80 Audi has compared natural

piety to the relationship of a worker to her tools: "Respect for the material with which you

work daily is a natural attitude.,,81 However, there are those who detract from this claim,

holding up science as a value-free enterprise.82 To speak against this, we return to Midgley,

who perceives that there are certain values scientists hold that are native to the discipline,

whether they are identified as values or not. Devotion to finding the truth in research is

supposed to be one of them. If science holds any values at all, it must value nature.83

Science, even at its most objective, disinterested level, is still value-laden. Neither

Gustafson nor Midgley wishes to disagree with this, as they understand the myth of value­

free science to be a contributing factor to the phenomenon of scientism (1: 97ff). As it is

impossible to undertake any research without bringing one's assumptions, biases, and

interests to the table, these values should be accepted as part of the human scientific venture.

The fact that our science comes from our own observations does not make it any less

significant of a pursuit. Any breach that exists between our technological capacity and our

ethical responsibility must be repaired by aIl of us, including scientists. Scientists must come

to understand that research has ethical consequences, and will both reflect and shape the

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moral values of a community. If piety is a response to the ultimate power or powers of the

cosmos, then the moral emphasis is on giving oneself to and for what is greater than oneself

or humanity. This is the change in orientation, conversion to a larger scope, and submission

to a new set of ideas for which Gustafson caUs.

As to the question of whether natural piety can then be univers al, Gustafson knows

that he cannot make this claim, and he does not consider the relationship between scientific

understanding and natural piety a priori.84 Piety is not active or apparent in an persons

because it includes not only the cognitive relating of experience and empirical observation to

our philosophy or theology. It also requires an affective element that is not always evoked or

does not always arise. This refers us back to Gustafson's critique of naturallaw theory: fact

and value do not seamlessly relate. A condition for theocentric discernment From fact to

value is a pious orientation.85 It is interesting, too, that Midgley, who is adamant in asserting

her own lack of religious faith, dismisses the idea that any serious pursuit of knowledge

could occur exclusive of a reverent attitude for an thingS.86 Underlying Gustafson's caveats is

a similar oudook. He posits that pious affectivity is something quite common throughout

human experience, and displays a suspicion that most, if not an, people have some kind of

sense of the sublime or the divine.87 It seems to be the goal of both these thinkers to

encourage those persons with a sense of something greater to come to a kind of metanoia

that will alter human action and direction.

The Status of the Divine

We now devote space to considering what role, if any, an equivalent of the divine has

to play in a secular variation on Gustafson's thought. Evidendy, he does not go out of his

way to introduce a dogmatic description of God into his theology, which provides us with

flexibility from the start. For example, Gustafson's leap to monotheism is somewhat

subjective and unnecessary, and the option of polytheism is left open to those outside of the

tradition looking in. Certainly, he does not dis credit the affections of nontheists ordered

toward a nontheistic object. Having said this, it should be clarified that simply because

theism can be discarded in a secular adaptation of Gustafson's ethics, this does not mean

that he views God as unimportant to his work. As Kaufman has observed, "For Gustafson

God is not an extra and dispensable reality of interest only to 'faith'; rather God is our name

for the ultimate reality with which humans must come to terms in life.,,88 Gustafson's ethics

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are particularly theocenttic, and not simply naturalistic. It is true, though, that while God is

bis name for that ultimate reality, secular persons are not generally led to call reality God.

Having respect for the relativity of experience, Gustafson must allow that secularists are

warranted in rejecting the idea of the divine, and in not taking recourse to theology; they

have not been persuaded to engage in the same interpretation. We make the judgement here,

then, that God is not superfluous to moral life for Gustafson, as Meyer has accused.89

Rather, what Gustafson sees as divine through bis affectivity, others see as natural (1: 260).

What then, is the status of God in secular Gustafsonian ethics?

Part of Midgley's avoidance of religion is that she sees God as "notoriously a most

obscure and ambiguous word.,,90 ln seeking out a Eunctional surrogate for the divine, we

could take into account several divine characteristics that might be carried over. The notion

of a first cause comes to mind. Gustafson does suggest that a secular image of a purely

transcendent God is worthy of consideration, as science leaves room for this possibility (1:

270). For individuals who do not conceive of God as active in the world, .but as simply some

kind of creator, theocenttic ethics might be appealing because of its focus on the doctrine of

creation over redemption. But deism is not the option Gustafson appropriates for

theocentrism, because the ordering of the patterns and processes is interactional. While God

is Other, God is also immanent. Gustafson contends that bis theology is incarnational,

meaning that it shows that God is present in the world: "If 1 confront God in the world, 1

confront God in natural and bistorical events.,,91 We may be unable to experience God

directly, but we can begin to form an understanding of the way God is working through

observing the patterns and processes of interdependence. Whether or not God is the first

cause, secular theocentrism cannot be mere deism.

An issue that is perhaps a more relevant consideration has been taken up by many of

Gustafson's critics, who have long debated whether his God is equivalent to nature. Lisa

Sowle Cahill pointed out soon after the publication of the first volume Ethics from a TheocentTic

Perspective that nature and God are essentially indistinguishable in Gustafson's thought.92 His

naturalistic basis for theology encourages such speculation, as does the observation that the

words God and nature often seem synonymous in Gustafson's phrasing. We have observed

that the de finition Gustafson gives to the divine is that God is the ultimate ordering power

of the patterns and processes of interdependence (2: 1). This definition is impersonal,

limiting our ability to associate agential qualities with God. He attaches no other formaI

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designations to the divine. But both God and nature work through this ordering activity.

Gustafson often refers to the following quote from Calvin: "1 confess, of course, that it can

be said reverendy, provided that it proceeds from a reverent mind, that nature is God"

(quoted in 1: 251 and 258).93 This prompts Jeffrey Stout to align hitnself with Cahill, going so

far as to say that Gustafson is never clear why it is necessary to conceive of a divine element

behind the powers that bear down upon us.94 Neville Richardson agrees, pronouncing that

there is litcle need for the divine in theocentric ethics if God can so easily be replaced in this

95 way.

However, this is not Gustafson's final word. "Cod is not nature without remainder, but

the historie doctrine of creation certainly affirms that God orders life through nature. Thus,

knowledge of nature contributes to, but does not finally determine, what can be said about

God.,,96 Edward Farley adds that God can be distinguished from natural processes because

he provides purpose and direction to those processes.97 Natural processes are not only

conditioners; they themselves are also conditioned by a larger ordering activity. Therefore, in

relating God and nature, Gustafson does not want to confuse God with merely all things or

the whole of things. He posits that the being of God is not exhausted by the patterns and

processes, or those things ordered by them: ''While 1 use the language of parts and wholes, 1

deliberately do not use that language in relation to God and the world, as if all the 'parts' of

the world made up the 'whole' of God.,,98 However, when we apply Gustafson's

interactional ethical mode!, we come to understand that the whole is more than the SUffi of

its parts. There is more to the whole than simply an aggregate of smaller wholes, and

Gustafson does not want to confuse the divine with such a conglomeration. What Gustafson

labels God can be construed to be equivalent to that which unites all parts into a whole,

while at the same cime standing over that whole.

What we arrive at, then, is a variation on panentheism, influenced by a vision of

ecocentricity. We do not consider panentheism proper, since a theistic element is not of

concern here. An ecocentric orientation, which places value upon the whole of things as a

system takes the focus off a divine being, while also avoiding making any one part of the

system the source of value. However, it is not enough to be ecocentric or to place value in a

natural system; we must retain the ideas of both immanence and otherness. Panentheism

allows for openness to those things sensed empirically, and also those things sensed by our

other ways of knowing, since it puts forth the idea that what is real and ulcimate is not nature

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without remainder.99 This worldview takes in both the quality of othemess in the ordering of

pattems and processes and the recognition of an immanent connection of the other in life

experience. What is real and ultimate encompasses all aspects of life, though it is also greater

than and distinct from them. It can be concluded that what is necessary for a secular

Gustafsonian philosophy is not belief in the divine, but an understanding of life. as being

both radically depeùdent on and interdependent with a whole greater than the surn of its

parts.

It is possible, then, to find a place in secularism for a respect for something greater

than the self, the human race, and even the greater environment. This respect is not only for

the content of life forms and ecosystems; it is a respect for the way these things continue to

be interrelated. Such a view of the world leads both the theist and the nontheist to the same

ethics. As Toulmin points out, when Gustafson writes that the Christian should relate all

things according to their relation to God, this is much the same as saying to the secular

person that we should deal "with aIl our feIlow creatures in ways appropriate to their places

in the overaIl scheme of thingS."lOO This scheme or ordering does not have to be divine, and

it certainly does not have to be personal.

At the same time, it is important to recognize that in his theology, Gustafson wants

God to be separated from God's ordering, though he is never clear how this is to be

accomplished. Perhaps it is as Toulmin suggests: Gustafson does not focus on metaphysics,

or an elucidation ofhow God is different from God's ordering, because he does not want to

be caught up in the abstracto His real concem is with the practical consequences of

theocentrism, or the ways in which we relate aIl thingS.101 What seems to matter most to

Gustafson is that the intensity of our moral beliefs is related to our affective response to

ultimate reality.l02 The salient point here is that Gustafson is not concemed with preserving a

certain rendering of the composition of God. God needs no defender.

In recalling Adams's complaint that Gustafson's ethics is very biocentric, and

perhaps even biophilic, we can now conclude that this interpretation misconstrues the centre

of value. Even for the secular nontheist, the centre of value is not simply life. Ouly within

the understanding that aIl the organic and inorganic components of the universe make up a

whole that is greater than the sum of its parts can one affinn the centre of value as the whole

of the universe. Positing this is not an attempt to tum secularists into theists.103 Rather, it is

about finding a source of value that is beyond the human, and also beyond any one

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particular aspect of life. It is a value that is inclusive of all things, and all patterns and

processes, just as the valuer continues to recognize larger and larger wholes.

A Sense of the Sublime

We have seen that religious affections are not distinct from natural affections except

insofar as they construe their object theologically. At some point, the religious consciousness

understands the affectivities and their ultimate object to have religious value. As weIl,

Gustafson has argued that those experiences that are not claimed as religious can often have

underlying religious significance. We are left to question what he means by this, and what

implications this has for persons of natural piety. It will be our thesis in this section that

what Gustafson intends to show is that the naturally pious have a sense of something other

that is not formally religious or theistic. However, a sense of the sublime in nature does have

implications for a person's web of beliefs, view of the world, and moral behaviour-in short,

for the whole of life.

In speaking of affective senses, Gustafson says that for those persons who are apt to

construe things religiously, the senses of affectivity come together to form a sense of the

divine, which can be expressed in many ways and through many kinds of faith, according to

context. He also makes a unique extension of this sense to those pers ons who are not

religious, but still sense something worthy of awe and respect in their observance of the

world around them. Inviting secular, nontheistic persons into religious theory, Gustafson

records four significant impulses he observes in his secular friends. These consist of a natural

piety, including gratitude and respect for what is given, a perception of some patterns of

ordering in life that serve as benchmarks for human activity, a consciousness of a human

defect, and a (Cmuted honoring of Another about which not much is said."l04

W e inferred at the opening of this chapter that Midgley caUs for more attention to be

paid to what is given, and less to human achievements. Despite this emphasis, when she

reflects on the given, she does not conclude that belief in a Giver is warranted. The aspect of

agency associated with givenness can be very impersonal and does not require a divine being.

She outlines this in a way similar to Gustafson's differentiation between purpose and

intention, defending her view by drawing on the concept of teleology.105 Teleology, she

writes, is an explanation of function, rather than of cause. It refers direcdy to design and not

a designer, and in this way, nature can be purposive without having intentions. An example

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helps clarify her thought on this point. Songs are sung, she writes, "on purpose," but not as a

means to an end:

The fust notes of a song are not a means to its cadence .... The essential teleological question is not "what later thing is this leading to?" It is, more widely, "what is this for? what is the point of it? what part does it play in a wider whole?"106

Midgley is able to consider a teleological order without positing an intended end. On the

other hand, she also indicates that it is difficult, if not impossible, to depersonalize a view of

the cosmos altogether. Because of the need for measured anthropomorphism, humans will

tend to view the universe as either purposive and benign, or purposive and malignant.107 This

is the problem Cahill introduced in reaction to Gustafson's impersonal God: the alternative

to a personal deity ends up looking evil. For this reason, in common speech, Midgley is not

immune to conjecture about "whatever powers that be," though she certainly would not be

prepared to commit to statements about them on the level of dogmatism.108

We retum to the above quotation of Gustafson and the idea of a muted honouring

in natural piety. Gustafson caUs this a sense of the sublime.109 He does not give special

de finition to the sublime, but certainly it relates to Kant's general understanding of the

sublime as those aspects of nature which give rise to feelings of respect, admiration, and

even fear. 110 The sublime consists of those things that reveal to us how small we are, how

weU we fit into our environment, and how large that envÏt:onment is. Objects that are

sublime are not divine; they are not gods, nor do we worship them. Rather, they demand our

respect for reasons other than our own self-interest. They reveal to us a reality in which we

are not the central figures. It is the natural wot:ld, then, that leads many people to have an

implicit sense of the sublime, if not an explicit sense of the divine.111 "Indeed," as Gustafson

comments, "it is difficult not to be deeply grateful for these gifts that are not created by

man" (1: 209). Perhaps this is the reason why Gustafson devotes so much energy in relating

God and the patterns and processes of nature, as opposed to those present throughout

history, culture, and society. Midgley, too, places great importance in the recognition of the

sublime in nature, writing, "Stunting this response is stunting our highest faculties.,,112 An

ardent respect for the whole of things that works itself out in our moral discemment is

something indicative of natural piety. Midgley caUs the sense of the sublime a sense of

wonder at otherness: 'We are receptive, imaginative beings, adapted to celebrate and rejoice

in the existence, quite independent of ourselves, of the other beings on this planet.,,113 ln

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reaction to those humanists who avoid the love of nature in fear of worshipping it, she

writes, "things much more unclean than traditional religion will follow the death of

wonder.,,114 Clearly, this nontheistic and nonreligious philosopher understands how natural

piety must be the outworking of a sense of the sublime in nature.

In comparing the sense of the divine to the sense of the sublime, we again see little

difference apart from the theistic emphasis. In fact, two of Gustafson's critics interpret the

sense of the divine as having more consequences for one's worldview than for an

understanding of what is divine:

The primary function of the "sense of the divine," therefore, is not to provide the existence of a transcendent object but to provide experience with an ordering general environment which keeps it open, expansive, and reconciling. The centrifugaI pull of the religious dimensions can counteract the perennial human tendency to self­absorption and conferring ulcimate devotion on causes that are limited.115

So, while Gustafson's theocentrism is a religious task, Midgley's reverence for all things

shares with it the idea that what is required o~ us is a new world picture. In essence, it is a

new description. New pictures do not ignore old ones; they simply build upon them,

recontextualizing them. It is Midgley's observation that humans have always needed to form

pictures of the world that include corresponding belief systems.116 We noted earlier that in

relating the is to the ought, what is important is not only widening our view, but also

discerning the right or most important facts to shape our description. In this line of thought,

Midgley continues: "Describing involves selecting what matters, and what matters always

tells us more than we now see.,,117 She adds clarity to Gustafson's device of description,

then, by observing that the descriptions underlying our ethics are more like conceptual

schemes than records of every observable detail. They are "vast imaginative extensions

raying out from experience. They are not drawn at random, but generated by our

imaginations on such principles as they find natural and helpful for the sort of understanding

we need.,,118 And just as Gustafson is not committed to an objective or immutable moral

order, so Midgley is not committed to an objective or immutable world picture. Certain

world pictures are appropriate to certain cimes, and when cimes change and a certain picture

becomes more harmful than beneficial, a new picture develops.ll9 Our world picture; or

worldviews also have a thick connection to both imagination and observable facto For

instance, we cannot verify scientifically that aIl aspects of the cosmos are orderly. However,

from our limited experience of the cosmos, this is a very educated assumption. We can

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responsibly work out our thinking and action upon this basis. Doing so helps us gain a better

sense of the interdependence of life too easily neglected in our current worldview, which has

tnisconstrued Darwinian theory by aligning it with the Great Chain of Being, placing

humanity at the top of a biological and valuation al pyratnid.

Midgley also agrees with Gustafson in saying the conceptual scheme we develop in

the future must be one open to the salient features of alllife, not simply those of immediate

importance to humanity.120 She wams against taking our global problems either too lighdy or

too fatalistically, reminding us that while we do not have ultimate control, there are things

within our grasp which must be set right, including our way of thinking, our ethical oudook,

and our treatment of nonhuman life. A new world picture must include the idea that the

world sus tains us more than it needs us, and our response should be one of awe.121

At the end of her search for this new world picture, she has written a short book in

commendation of the scientific-philosophical hypothesis of Gaia. While a complete

examination of the theory is not possible here, we can point out the significant likenesses it

has with a theocentric worldview. Gaia is orny beginning to be defended biologically, though

it is a conceptual theory needed for ecological reasons.l22 Conceived of by atmospheric

scientist James Lovelock, the theory employs the name of a Greek goddess, considered as

Mother Earth, to describe the whole of life on earth.123 The biosphere functions as a single

organism, independendy organized. A strange notion on the surface, there are immediate

connections to be made with our line of thought here. The patterns and processes of

interdependence point to the interrelatedness of alllife on earth, and the dynamism and self­

regulation of the earth point toward its life as a whole. This system of life is responsive, but

not intentioned, as is the object of value in both theistic and nontheistic Gustafsonian ethics.

Gaia, Lovelock writes, is alive

not as the ancients saw her-a sentient Goddess with a purpose and foresight-but alive like a tree. A tree that quiedy exists, never moving except to sway in the wind, yet endlessly conversing with the sunlight and the soil. Using sun1ight and water and nutrient mineraIs to grow and change. But all done so imperceptibly, that to me the old oak tree on the green is the same as it was when 1 was a child.124

Thus, the Gaia theory indicates not orny that the biosphere has been influenced by life, for

example, through the carbon cycle.125 It goes even further, to the extent of concluding that

the biosphere is, in fact, itself alive. The mountains and oceans are a part of the patterns and

processes of life, and indeed are necessary to the functioning of the whole system. Those

97

things without the scientifically defined qualities of life-for instance, the ability to

reproduce-are not in any consequential way distinct from those that do meet the criteria.

We are aIl inextricably bound up in this system, and radically interrelated. Importandy, Gaia

does not orny teach about interdependence, but also that wholes and parts are equally real. l26

Species and life forms are not simply individual elements that must come together to survive.

Rather, together they make up a whole that is more than the sum of its parts: an organism.

While a student of Gaia might be led initially to consider life itself of intrinsic worth, what

the true object of awe is, and what stirs the sense of the sublime, is the wtfY in which the

earth is enabled to function as a living organism. The centre of value in the Gaia theory can

be considered panentheistic: "If the system of life itself is taken to have participated in the

history of evolution in the sort of way that Gaian thinking suggests, then a substantial part of

this reverence is surely due to that system.,,127 The system is the centre, as the living whole

that is more than the aggregate elements of life. As Aquinas has noted, a perception of

interdependence and of radical dependence on what is real and ultimate leads to a perception

of the unity of all things (cited in 2: 53). We are left with the conclusion that, as in

theocentric ethics, the idea of the intrinsic value of particular life forms is replaced with the

concept of a value in relation to the ordering of the whole. l28

The point of bringing in the Gaia theory is not to set it up as a perfect secular parallel

of Gustafson's theocentric environmental ethics. There are differences in the conclusions of

both that could be explored further. But Gaia, quite evidendy, provides a helpful conceptual

scheme for an expanded secular view of life. And, as Gustafson points out, not only do our

conceptual schemes need revision. Our loyalties must also be changed in a kind of metanoia.

He praises the Gaia theory for encouraging affective overtones, and a sense of the sublime

or even of the divine: "Earth as the fecund mother on whom aIl living things depend is not,

in any culture, simply a scientific or rational moral justification of our respect.,,129 Indeed,

senses of awe and gratitude, says Midgley, were in the minds of the Greeks who named the

earth as a goddess.130 Just as Gustafson reminds Christians of evolutionary theory, so

Midgley reminds secular culture of the Gaia theory, with the aim of bringing their science

and affectivity together and avoid what she calls "inteIlectual apartheid."131

In using Gaia to promote an understanding of the uni!] of aIl parts of the whole,

though, we must be careful to avoid setting up a false ideal of hanno'!)' among these parts,

whether ethicaIly or in an evolutionary description.132 In Gaia, conilicting goods exist, and

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there are no simple paths to resolution. Midgley presents Gaia as a model that indudes both

competition and cooperation, both of which help maintain a dynamic equilibrium on a large

scale.133 Healthy and functioning biodiversity is maintained even though individuallife forms

and species do not aIl win out. She agrees with Gustafson that our goods are bound to

conflict, writing tongue-in-cheek, "The ambition of finding a single underlying rationale for

all our aims is vacuous. (Maybe God can see one, but certainly we cannot.),,134 Her world

picture does not require the realization of aIl goods; the larger good is, rather, in the larger

whole. So, while our goods and desires are not to be ignored, they are, in some way, to be

subordinated to the good of the Gaia system. Midgley goes on to daim that what humanity

needs is an ordering of priorities called culture: "What we want help with is building a wider

conceptual scheme, within which the partial ones that distract us can be related.,,135 Using

our agreed upon ways of thinking and acting ethicaIly, then, it will be necessary to come to

painful and tragic decisions. These things are not eschewed by either Gustafson or Midgley.

However, the benefits of the models they suggest, be it a theocentric view of the world or

one drawing on the Gaia hypothesis, show a way toward solemn certitude that the actions

we take are aimed toward fulfilling our responsibilities within our niche. In essence,

theocentric responsibility, for both religious and secular humanity, can be articulated in the

following words of Richard R. Niebuhr:

Human faithfulness presents itself as the great personal act or course of actions in which a man. . . commits and aligns himself to the one coercive and persuasive power in the world that is the recapitulating expression of the meaning of the whole. So wherever and whenever we see men giving themselves for that which is greater than themselves and greater than ail the particular forces impinging upon them, there we meet faithful human beings (quoted in 1: 203).

What has been accomplished in this chapter is not a description of the real and

ultimate that will appeal to ail kinds of people. However, it is an example of how the

rationale of a religious theology can have a btoadet application among those outside of that

confessional sphete. We have seen this not only through our theotetical postulation of a

secular theocentric ethic, but also through the demonstration of such thinking in the thought

of Mary Midgley. The sense of the sublime includes an orientation of being and value towatd

the whole of things that, while not divine, is something greater than the sum of its parts.

This is the most significant aspect of the theological rationale within Gustafson's theocentric

ethics. Since it includes no theistic element, but only the requirement of a tum towatd the

99

sublime through natural piety, a secular Gustafsonian ethic may appeal to secular persons

who respect both their rational and affective capacities.

In making the application we have not imposed theism on nontheistic persons.

Nonetheless, perhaps the question of whether secular Gustafsonian ethics can be devoid of

religion is misplaced. We have been made aware of the kind of piety that links many

outlooks on the morallife, and it is a piety that does not arise in consequence of religious

conviction. What has become evident through discussion with a confessionally religious

theologian, as weIl as a scholar who confesses no religion, is that both religious and secular

ways of thinking are elements moulded onto a deeper need for a sense of orientation, and

goals motivated by affectivity. 1bis works itself out in a sense of the divine, leading to an

explicit religiosity, and altemately by way of a sense of the sublime, leading to commitment

to a larger world picture. Though a secular reading of Gustafson's ethics does not include an

element of the divine as such, this implies no negation of the importance of God to

theocentric ethics. Rather, it indicates the truly indispensable considerations made about

God, including the idea of something other and greater than the self, the human race, or the

collection of life forms we know. 1bis is ultimate ordering power, which both bears down

upon life and sus tains it.

Regardless of what we sense, be it the divine or the sublime, underlying each is what

unites one with the other. Theocentric theology says much less about God than does

traditional theology. Altematively, the conflating of order and orderer in secular

theocentrism says more about the ultimate centre of value than do many other philosophies.

It is, perhaps, that the two meet somewhere in the middle; there is a whole that is greater

than the sum of its parts-greater in that it bears power to order, sus tain, and bear down

upon its components-that is not personified. But any view of this power must include an

affective orientation. Just as the term "God" finds its "full religious significance only within

piety, religious affectivity," so the Gaia world picture finds its full significance only within

natural piety and affectivity (1: 264).

The question, then, is not whether the secular verSion of theocentrism avoids

religious characterization. The question is, rather, whether secular Gustafsonian ethics avoids

piety. It does not, and nor should it. A sense of awe toward something greater should not be

given up for fear it appears too religious. Natural piety, being not overtly religious but very

100

much about affectivity, is critical for nontheists to uphold. Being nontheistic, then, does not

exclude relating oneself to what is greater, other, or even to what is perceived to be ultimate.

1 Recall that fi.mctional surrogates or eqtÙvalents are what philosopbical systems of ethics use in place of theology (1: 225 and 2: 97f). These are referred to again in Gustafson's Gan Ethics Be Christian?, 86. 2 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 46. 3 Mary Midgley, 'The Paradox ofHumanism," in James M Guskifson's Theocentric Ethics, 187. 4 Midgley, Beast and Man, 97. 5 Mary Midgley, ''Toward a New Understanding of Human Nature: The Limits ofIndividualism," in HOUI Humans Adopt, 527. 6 Midgley, Beast and Man, 185. 7 Ibid., 149. 8 Hans Oberdiek, Review of Science and Poetry, by Mary Midgley, Ethics 114:1 (2003),187. 9 Mary Midgley, Science and Poetry (London and New York: Routledge, 2001), 13-20. 10 Mary Midgley, Evolution as a Religion: Strange Hopes and Stranger Fears, rev. ed. (London and New York: Roudedge, 2002), 70. 11 Ibid., 24. 12 Midgley indicates that her initial concem in writing philosophy was the value ofhumanity, in "The Paradox of Humanism," 187. 13 Ibid., 199. Midgley also engages in a noteworthy critique of androcentrism early in this article, 188. 14 Midgley, Beast and Man, 186. t5 Ibid., 244f. 16 Ibid., 18. 17 Midgley, "The Paradox of Humanism," 188. 18 Midgley, "Toward a New Understanding ofHuman Nature," 519 and Science as Salvation, 26f. 19 Midgley, Beast and Man, 244. 20 Midgley, "The Paradox of Humanism," 191. 21 Midgley, Beast and Man, 349. 22 Midgley, ''The Paradox of Humanism," 193. 23 Midgley, ''Toward a New Understanding ofHuman Nature," 519. 24 Midgley, Beast and Man, 152. 25 Ibid., 350. 26 Ibid., 196; cE 187. 27 Midgley, ''The Paradox of Humanism," 193. 28 Midgley, Beast and Man, 277. 29 Ibid., 153. 30 Toulmin, "Nature and Nature's God," 49. 31 Compare Konner and Rottsschaefer in "Profile: James M. Gustafson," Zygon 30:2 Oune 1995): 159-226 to Gustafson's colleagues in ''Focus on the Ethics of James M Gustafson," Journal ofRefiJious Ethics 13:1 (1985): 1-100, 185-209 and Beckley and Swezey,james M Guskifson's Theocentric Ethics: Interpretations andAssessments. 32 Gustafson, Intersections, 71. 33 Midgley, Beast and Man, 97. 34 Midgley, The Myths We live By, 25. 35 Midgley, Evolution as a RefiJion, 159. 36 Midgley, Beast and Man, 185. 37 See Midgley's pamphlet Gaia: The Next Big Idea (London: Demos, 2001), 19f, in which she explains the current need for a world picture that goes beyond Cattesian dualism to understand mind and body, humanity and nature, as a whole, rather than as elements set against each other. 38 Reeder, 'The Dependence ofEthics," 128. Reeder is perltaps unsound in relating these patticular first ptinciples to Gustafson's, but bis point about shared rationale is worth noting. 39 Neville Richardson, "A Theocentric Ethic in a Scientific Age?" Journal ofTheolagy for Sou/hem Africa 60 (September 1987), 48. 40 Gustafson, Can Ethics Be Christian?, 86. 41 William Schweiker, 'Theocentric Ethics: 'God Will Be God,'" Christian Century (15 January 1986),37 E 42 Meyer, 150.

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43 MidgIey, Beast and Man, 349. Bill McKibben fleshes out this idea from a Christian perspective in TheCtmiforling Whirlwind: God, Job, and the Scale of Creation (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1994). 44 Reeder, 'The Dependence ofEthics:' 127. Cf. Gifford Geertz, The Interpretation of Cultures (New York: Basic Books, 1973),87-125. 45 Farley, 'Theocentric Ethics as a Genetic Argument," 44. 46 Gustafson, "A Response to Crities," 189f. 47 Gustafson, "All1bings in Relation to God," 99. 48 MidgIey, Science as Salvation, 93. 49 Cf. comments by William A. Rottschaefer in "Gustafson's Theocentrism and Scientific Naturalistic Philosophy: A Marriage Made in Heaven?" qgon 30:2 (June 1995),218. 50 MidgIey, Beast and Man, 249 and 'The Paradox of Humanism;' 194. 51 MidgIey, Beast and Man, 73. 52 Harlan Beckley, "A Raft That Floots: Experience, Tradition, and Sciences in Gustafson's Theocentric Ethics," qgon 30:2 (June 1995),203. 53 MidgIey, Science as Salvation, 106. 54 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 100f. 55 Ibid., 44. . 56 Gustafson, "All1bings in Relation to God;' 90 and "Response to Hartt," 694. 57 Cf. Gustafson, "Response," 216ft: 58 James, 40. 59 Gustafson aiso uses the word "evoke" inA Sense of the Divine, 44 and 'Tracinga Trajectory," 182. 60 Gustafson, "AU Things in Relation to God," 91. 61 Schweiker,36. 62 Gustafson, "Response," 217. 63 Similar comments are made by Stout in 'The Voice ofTheoIogy in Contemporary Culture," 258. 64 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 46. 65 Midgley, Science and Poetry, 184. 66 Midgley, Evolution as a Re/ilion, 130f and 189. 67 Midgley, Science as Salvation, 73f. 68 Midgley, Gaia, 11 f and 25. 69 Ibid., 21. 70 Ibid., 29, italics in original. 71 Midgley, Science as Salvation, 125. 72 James, 170. 73 Gustafson, "A Theocentric Interpretation ofLife," 755. 74 James, 172f. 75 Ibid., 165. 76 Midgley, Evolution as a Religion, 16. 77 1bis is supported by Audi, 166. 78 Midgley, Gaia, 24. 79 MidgIey, Evolution as a Reli.fion, 128t: 80 Ibid., 129. 81 Audi, 185. Ame Naess aiso affums the respect an ecological-field worker gains for aUlife forms in the second principle of deep ecology, in "The ShaUow and the Deep, Long Range Ecology Movement: A Summary," Inquiry 16 (1973), 95. 82 Cf. comments made by Frederick Ferré and Neville Richardson in a discussion of Audi in Jaml!s Gustqfson's Thl!ocmtric Ethics,183ff. 83 Midgley, The Myths We Live lh', 2Ef 84. Gustafson, A S /!nse of the Divine, 41. 85 1bis is how Gustafson defines himself against process theology, which he interprets as similar to his own position, except in that it is purely rationalistic and lacking in any defioitive "religious orientation," 1: 61. 86 Midgley, Science as Salvation, 71 and Beast andMan, 350 n. 44. 87 Gustafson, "All1bings in Relation to God," 91 and "Tracing a Trajectory," 182 and 189. 88 Kaufinan, 16. 89 Meyer, 154. 90 Midgley, Sci/!nce as Salvation, 8.

91 Gustafson, "A Response to Critics," 199. 92 Cahill, "Consent in Tttne of Affliction," 29.

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93 Gustafson is also careful to include the statement that follows immediately in Calvin: God must not be confused with the inferior course of God's work. There is a tension between these two ideas that Gustafson values. 94 Stout, «The Voice ofTheology in Contemporary Culture," 258f. 95 Rich.an:lson, "A Theocentric Ethic in a Scientific Age?" 51. 96 Gustafson, 'The Sectarian Temptation," 92, italics added. See also h.is "Response to Hartt," 694. 97 Farley, 'Theocentric Ethics as a Genetic Argument," 51. 98 Gustafson, "Afterword," 247. 99 A similar interpretation of panentheism is taken up in Rosemary Radford Ruether, Gaia and God: An Ecofeminist Theology ofEorth Healing (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1992). 100 Toulmin, The Return to Cosmology, 269. 101 Ibid., 270. 102 Gustafson, "Possibilities and Problems for the Study of Ethics," 246. 103 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 47. 104 Gustafson, "A Theocentric Interpretation ofIife:' 758. 105 See Midgley, "The Paradox of Humanism," 195 and Science as Salvation, 11. This should be understood as distinct from the theological construal of teleology critiqued by Gustafson. 106 Midgley, Science as Salvation, 10. 107 Midgley, Evolution as a Religion, 159. 108 Midgley in "Panel Discussion," 232. 109 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 34 and passim. 110 Immanuel Kant, "Analytic of the Sublime," in Critique ofJudgment, trans. Werner S. Pluhar (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1987): 97-140. Cf. Midgley's comments in Beast and Man, 347. 111 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 17. 112 Midgley, Beas! and Man, 348. 113 Ibid. 114 Ibid., 349. 115 William C. Spohn and Thomas A. Bymes, "Knowledge of Self and Knowledge of God: A Reconstructed Empiricist Interpretation," in Christian Ethics: Problems and Prospects, 124. 116 Midgley, 'The Paradox of Humanism," 196f and Science and Poetry, 24. 117 Midgley, Beast and Man, 106. 118 Midgley, Science as Salvation, 96f. 119 Midgley, The Myths We Live By, 4. 120 Midgley, Evolution as a Religion, 170. 121 Midgley, Beast and Man, 349. 122 Midgley, Evolution as a Religion, 74f and ScienceandPoetry, 172 and 176. 123 James Lovelock, Gaia: A New Look at Lift on Earth (Oxford: Oxford University, 1979). 124 James Lovelock, Gaia: The Practical Science ofPlanetary Medicine (London: Gaia Books, 1991), 12. 125 Midgley, Gaia,16f. 126 Midgley, Science and Poetry, 185f. 127 Midgley, Gaia, 24. While her acceptance of the Gaia theory indicates piety rather than theism, Midgley does signify that the problem with most theism is not that a God is posited, but that a personal nature is attributed to God. 128 Gustafson, A Sense of the Divine, 34f. 129 Ibid., 34. 130 Midgley, Science and Poetry, 183. 131 Midgley, Gaia, 18. 132 Midgley, Beas! and Man, 90 and 156. 133 Midgley, Gaia, 37f. 134 Midgley, The Myths We Live By, 156. 135 Midgley, Beast and Man, 180.

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Conclusion

We have undertaken a secular translation of theocentric ethical theory with practice

in mind. It should be apparent at this point that such an exercise opens up possibilities for

religious and secular dialogue on a variety of ethical issues. Here, however, we seek

particularly to encourage ethical dialogue on matters relating to the larger natural

environment. While the practical examples illustrated in the second volume of Ethics from a

Theocentric Perspective do not particularly highlight environmental concerns, Gustafson has

since made it clear that the welfare of the natural world was in his mind throughout the

composition of his ethics.1 And, with the writing of A Sense of the Divine, he has come to be

recognized as an ecologically-oriented theologian and ethicist.2

While ethical responsibility lies within the human 4omain, according to our

heightened capacities for rationality and intentionality, what remains of ethical concem does

not. Gustafson's commonsense ontology, or his web of beliefs, demands that the agent have

concem for the ordering of all things. In secular environmental ethics, this bears a

resemblance to an ecocentric orientation, and Gustafson's theocentrism reminds interpreters

that what is important about ecology is the fact that nature is continually ordered, and that

all parts receive their value through this larger ordering. With this in mind, we now conclude

our exatnÏnation of theocentrism by pointing to the possibilities for its use in environmental

ethics. Space does not allow us to discuss the details of particular environmental concems

here, but what we are able to do is sketch out the direction a theocentric worldview gives to

questions of environmental ethics.

Attitude Toward Nature

By including the sciences among his sources, Gustafson shows that we cannot avoid

incorporating into our ethics the scientific findings that illuminate the relationship of

humanity to other life. Acknowledging what science tells us about human nature and about

nature at large has the potential to point to a radical alteration of our scheme of value. But

correct knowledge in and of itself is not entirely adequate when approaching environmental

ethics. In Gustafson's words,

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Whether it is Gaia. the deity of process theology, or some new version drawing from the biblical traditions, whether it is the religious traditions rooted in Southern and Eastern Asia, there is a calI to conversion to expand affections and interests.3

It is not certain that knowledge will lead us to expanded ethical concern if it 1S not

accompanied by piety, or a sense of wonder at the sublime in nature. Gustafson

demonstrates that a change in our affective disposition, one that moves from sensing orny

human value to sensing the value of alI things, must have a place alongside this correction in

our understanding. In this way, thinkers involved in the discipline of science and those in

theology may have something to learn from one another.

A new picture of the world that avoids anthropocentrism, then, affects not oruy our

ontology, but also our attitude toward and interaction with the nonhuman. Toulmin has

written that the ecology movement has been the cause of a reSurgence of Stoicism

throughout various themes, induding piety toward nature and an obligation to live in

stabilized activity with nature.4 These daims indude the idea of a shared logos, though in

theocentric language this is amended to a shared relation to God's purposes. Sirnilarly, in a

secular tone, we might say that all things share a relation to the ordering whole. We know

that Gustafson is not interested in expounding on the intrinsic value of nature. He

differentiates between having respect and reverence for nature; the latter position is, for him,

representative of the extreme opposite of the utilitarian use of nature, and is ;ust as

impractical. Generally, Gustafson considers that reverence for life is too mystical.

On the other hand, there are instances when he uses religious terminology with

regard to the value of nature. In writing on the governance of the world, he admits, "Its

presence, however, evokes awe and respect, natural piety, toward nature" (1: 262, italics

added). In Midgley's thinking, awe represents a religious attitude that involves the reuniting

of reason and feeling. If we recall that her idea of reverence rests not so much with

individual parts but with the whole, perhaps this word, then, is not so out of place as

Gustafson suggests. Midgley's reverence is not biophilic, and she does not advocate

nonintervention nor reject all killing. Rather, reverence promo tes a dispositional change, just

as religious piety in theocentric orientation leads Gustafson to a respect for the way things

are continually ordered. Midgley's main concem is to show why we should not separate

ourselves from the natural environment, and the extension of reverence is her way of doing

this. Gustafson's main concem is to show how the environment and humanity are both

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valued in their relations to God, and so a limiting of reverence to God is his way of doing

this. Nonetheless, both arrive at the same finishing point: an attitude that considers nature as

valuable apart from its instrumental use to humanity, respects the ordered and ordering

whole, and looks to the largest concerns possible.

Whether reverence or respect is preferred, theocentric relational value theory means

that aIl creation is of nonabsolute value. It is a common relation to the larger whole, and the

web of interrelation within that whole, that prompt us to recognize the extension of value to

aIl things.5 Our relationship to and dependence on nature, then, leads to a responsibility to

nourish, protect, and develop that which both bears down upon and sustains us. Our task is

to value things according to their relation to the larger ordering of the patterns and processes

of interdependence of life. What makes concern for the larger environment possible in

theocentric ethics is a conception that downplays the distinctiveness of humanity from

nature and embraces the idea of a larger ordered nature of which humans are a part. An

important caveat to introduce here is that this shift in worldview does not diminish

humanity, except that it does repudiate certain anthropocentric claims of humanity; it rather

recontextualizes our relationship to what is outside us. Gustafson wishes to be clear:

The proper inference to he drawn here is not that the value of plants, snail darters, and Hereford steers is the same as the value of human life. Rather, because man is interpreted to be interdependent with the rest of nature, the parts of which have "purposes" relative to others in patterns of functional interdependence in larger wholes, restraints of purely human ends can be more readily established (2: 307).

A final word must he said on the relationship of a pious attitude to environmental

ethics. In our introduction we made note of the impending environmental crisis as a

potential source of motivation for a shift away from anthropocentrism. Retaining an

anthropocentric viewpoint that considers human action as beyond the impact of natural

consequences is destructive, even self-destructive. Midgley believes,

It cannot really be plausible today that world hunger, destruction of the hiosphere, and the atms race fotm a slight temporary difficulty which our civilization cannot fail to surmount as it lifts us onward in the steady, inevitable progress of humanity.6

Though Gustafson doubts that a spontaneous and wholesale conversion of western culture

is likely, there would be litde point in encouraging metanoia if catastrophe were its only

catalyst. The aim of this work has been to reveal the latent piety within many of us, as weIl as

to encourage individuals to regard their affectivity toward nature as an ethically valid human

trait. An expanded scope and a value theory that relates humanity to aIl other things means

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that we begin to address issues by considering "a common 'earth community.",7 If

theocentric conversion continues to be encouraged in this way, environmental catastrophe

can perhaps be avoided. The hope, then, is for a proactive approach to concerns that relate

to the whole of things; this may reverse some of the trends we have helped set in motion.

Theocentric Environmentalism

Cahill has remarked that the most important divine characteristic is that God is

beyond human control. 8 With the close association of God and the ordering of aIl things, a

theocentric environmental ethic means that we must recognize that nature, too, is largely

beyond human control. If we are to "let God be God," we must also, in a sense, let nature

be nature. By this we do not mean simply letting nature take its course. Rather, the phrase

denotes a respect for the ways in which nature continues to be ordered, for the patterns and

processes of life. In letting nature be nature, we restrain any urge to dominate it and instead

live in it as part of the larger whole.

This idea, while a primary point of guidance in our ethical relationship to the

nonhuman world, does not, however, lead to nonaction. "The ultimate destiny of the world

is not in human hands. . . . But shorter range destinies are subject to the intentional

interventions of man in our highly developed culture."9 Our ethical action must always take

into account our restricted capacity for aligning the outcomes of action with our intentions

and desÏtes. What this seems to designate is a relationship to ail other things that includes

limited intervention. Clearly, Gustafson's ethics are not so romantic as to support

nonintervention in nature. While there may be an existing ordering to which we should

conform, there is no harmony that can be preserved by letting nature take its course. Since

neither in our action nor in our nonaction can we return to Eden or ensure a tragedy-free

future, we can permit ourselves to intervene and expand in cautious, modest, and carefully

measured ways (2: 243).

An ethic of limited intervention means that humans, as a matter of course, will

change some things. There is nothing inherendy wrong with this, so long as we remember

that we do not become God in our reordering of or interaction with nature. Humans are

always fundamentaily reliant on nature as the source and sustenance of life (2: 273).

Nevertheless, the limitations placed upon our interventions demand careful thought about

the potential consequences of our actions to other life forms and aspects of the

107

environment. Any action that will have far-reaching consequences demands ngorous

reflection and justification. Gustafson goes so far as to say, "those [actions] that are

irreversible ought not to be done except for very powerful reasons that support

compensating laudable ends" (2: 280). And these ends always relate to the centre of value.

Taking the position of limited intervention means Gustafson does not support

refraining from scientific exploration or technological development, as was noted in our

second chapter. Within his interpretations of nature and culture is the observation that

animaIs, particularly humans, have a history of developing ways to control the forces bearing

down upon them (1: 4). Part of having respect for human capacities is to encourage our

natural urge to create and explore. If instead of properly harnessing this urge it is suppressed,

we are not being responsible to it: "We deny our 'nature' by refusing to accept its distinctive

place in the wider ordering, with its possibilities and responsibilities for sustaining,

cultivating, and developing the world of which we are a part" (2: 283). However, an

approach of limited intervention does have consequences for our understanding of

"technological improvement." Our efforts to create and exp and no longer carry with them

the tones of scientism, and cannot be viewed as mechanisms of salvation. Technological

improvement will not lead to human independence of nature, and neither will it rid nature of

the problems we have created in our unbridled intervention. Limiting our growth is more

fundamental to curbing environmental destruction than are technological solutions (1: 104).

If we are to interact with ail things in a theocentric way, our expansion of value

requites that current ethical models be reexamined and perhaps altered. Just as Gustafson

does not view ethical norms as flowing seamlessly from empirical observation of nature, so

he does not observe any model of justice within nature. Still, observable patterns of "right

relationships" are present ail the same.10 Life is characteristically interdependent, and

includes mutualism or give-and-take relationships, though these are not harmonious or

static. Viewing a general justice within nature, Gustafson sees no need to reject rights

language altogether, and understands the concept of rights as preventative of the tyranny of

anthropocentrism. However, the cail to justice or the extension of rights and duties must not

be based on a particular outline of merit. l1 In theocentric perspective, it does not make sense

to grant rights to those who fit a particular description of humanity, since ail our possibilities

for being and achievement are given to us, not intrinsic to us. Midgley agrees, arguing further

that to limit rights and duties so they are applicable only in the human realm is either to be

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trivial or to daim that what is nonhuman does not concem us at aU.12 Instead, rights are to

be based on need.13 AlI those with goods to fulfill have a right to do so, according to their

value to the ordering of the larger whole. Those of us who have been given a capacity for

moral responsibility have a duty to respect these rights. Rights are never absolute, just as

values are not, but they are indicators of points to consider in making ethical decisions.

A respect for nature means that those occasions in which it is justifiably necessary to

cut off an aspect of nature from its own good must be seen as sacrificial. H. Richard

Niebuhr developed the idea that aIl killing becomes sacrifice when the cirde of value is

expanded.14 Gustafson takes his cue from this, making note of his observations of a Hindu

student, who, while studying neurobiology, was also a vegetarian. In order to reconcile her

beliefs with her occupation, she considered her experimentations with rats to be sacrifices­

goods she had to cut off in order to achieve larger objectives.15 This attitudinal change does

not alter the suffering or destruction of the rat. It does, however, alter the orientation of the

agent, which likely prevents other instances of destruction that might, in an anthropocentric

light, seem acceptable. AdditionaIly, sacrifice is not necessarily restricted to single life forros.

Gustafson specifies that not every endangered species should be preserved at aIl costs, since

physicallife, and even the life of a particular species, is not ultimate (2: 243). This is not to

daim that the endangerroent of any life forro is not of ethical concem. Nor is it to

underestimate the significance of biodiversity as a mechanism of the ordering of aIl things. It

is simply to indicate that when our concems relate to the larger and larger wholes we

perceive, the possibility of tragedy is very real.

The reality of tragedy is also present in relationships that do not involve humans.

Destruction and suffering are inherent in interdependent relationships in the wild, since

goods are incommensurate. Gustafson perceives that God values diversity, even though

diversity may not be good for humans or for aU aspects of nature. "The purposes of nature,

relative to 'anything that exists' and to the interdependence of an, are conflictual relative to

the human good and even various 'goods' of the nonhuman world.,,16 Since suffering and

destruction within the whole are inbuilt, theocentric ethics does not imply the ending of aIl

natural suffering as a mandate. While caring for nature as we interact with it is a significant

ethical responsibility, our role as agents is not the idealistic "man the maker." Rather, we are

participants who contribute to the existing ordering in the best ways available to us. Ethical

ambiguities al ways remain, as does suffering. While cruelty and the infliction of unnecessary

109

suffering remain repugnant to us, to remove aIl suffering would he to remove competition

for goods, thus changing the patterns and processes of life. Even if this were possible, its

consequences are completely unknown to us, and so this path cannot he condoned.

While these comments by no means exhaust the exploration of theocentric

environmental ethics, they do lift out several significant areas in which we must revise our

consideration of and interaction with the natural world. The goods sought by nonhuman life

are of value, just as human goods are. Each good is to be respected as an important ethical

consideration, which means that human intervention must be done in a carefully limited way.

But ethical decisions that have a hearing on the environment will never preserve an goods.

Our responsibility as humans is not to "fix" nature or to rid it of what seems negative to us.

Rather, we are to act within the patterns and processes of life, always maintaining a respect

or reverence for the ways things continue to be ordered.

Gustafson's commonsense way of understanding our relationship to an things, which

can be applied to affective theistic and nontheistic consttuals, provides clarity to our search

for resolution of the impending environmental crisis. Our picture of our world will grow

over rime, presenting us with new problems and points of disorder. But the promise of

theocentric ethics is enduring, and will continue to furnish a starting point for dialogue about

the concerns we must recognize as common. Only together can people of aIl contexts and

traditions discern courses of action fitting to the patterns and processes of life.

1 Gustafson, A Sense rf the Divine, xiii. In volume 2 of Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective, one of four outlined practical concems, that of population and nutrition, does take some ecological concems into account. 2 French, 113. 3 Gustafson, Intersections, 123. 4 Toulmin, "Nature and Nature's God," 47. 5 Gustafson, Christian Ethics and the Communi!J, 149. 6 Midgley, Evolution as a Religion, 161. 7 French, 124. 8 Cahill, "Consent in Ttme of Affliction," 31. 9 Gustafson, "Nature: Its Status in Theological Ethics," 22. 10 Gustafson, "Ethical Issues in the Human Future," 503. 11 Ibid., 493 and A Sense rf the Divine, 32f. 12 Midgley, "Toward a New Understanding of Human Nature," 527. 13 Gustafson, "Ethical Issues in the Human Future," 493. 14 Niebuhr, The Meaning rfRevelation, 167. Gustafson also shows appreciation for Barth's understanding of the sacrifice of other forms oflife in 1: 95. 15 Gustafson, A Sense rf the Divine, 57. 16 Ibid., 49; cf. 44.

110

Bibliography

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"AIl Things in Relation to God: An Interview with James M. Gustafson." Second Opinion (March 1991): 80-107.

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"August Seventh, 1945." Christian Cmtury (16 August 1995): 779-81.

Can Ethics Be Christian? Chicago and London: University of Chicago, 1975.

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Christian Ethics and the Community. Philadelphia: Pilgrim, 1971.

"Christian Humanism and the Human Mind." In On Moral Medicine: Theological Perspectives in Medical Ethics, edited by Stephen E. Lammers and Allen Verhey. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1987: 573-82.

"The Church in Dialogue with Non-Christians and Humanists." In The Church and Human Society at the Threshold of the Third Millennium, vol. 6, edited by Joseph Papin. Villanova: Villanova University, 1974: 159-75.

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"Ethical Issues in the Human Future." With Comments by Roy Branson and Wilfred Beckerman. In How Humans Adapt: A BioculturalOtfyssry, edited by Donald J. Ortner. Washington: Smithsonian Institution, 1983: 491-516.

Ethics from a Theocentric Perspective, 2 vols. Chicago: University of Chicago, 1981 and 1984.

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111

"Particularity /Universality: The Retrospective Tracking of a Career." (1997). Retrieved 19 August at: http://www.emory.edu/SENA TE/ facultycou/ fac_cmtes/ dfl~stafsons. htm.

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"A Response to Critics." Journal ofReligious Ethics 13:2 (1985): 185-209.

Review of A Theory of Justice, by John Rawls. Theology Todqy 30:3 (1973): 306-12.

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«Scientific Dreamers and Religious Speculation." Christian Cmtury (10 March 1993): 269-74.

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"The Sectarian Temptation: Reflections on Theology, the Church and the University." In Catholic Theololical Society 0/ America, Proceedings 0/ the Annual Meeting 40 (1985): 83-94.

A Sense 0/ the Divine: The Natural Environment from a Theocentric Perspective. Cleveland: Pilgrim, 1994.

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"Theology and Piety." Word and World 3:2 (1983): 114-16.

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Works Discussingjames M. Gustafson:

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Anderson, Terence. Review of Christian Ethics and the Community by James M. Gustafson. Theology Todqy 29:3 (1972): 348-52.

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Barker, Lance R. "Exploring an Ethic of Gratitude." In Abundant Haroest: Essqys on Rural Lift and Ministry in Honor 0/ Dean and Elsie Freudenberger, edited by Victor Klimoski and Lance Barker. St. Paul: Minnesota Consortium of Theological Schools, 2002: 1-16

Beckley, Harlan R. and Charles M. Swezey, eds. James M. Gustcifs0n's Theocentric Ethics: Intetpretations and Assessments. Macon: Mercer University, 1988.

Cahill, Lisa Sowle and James F. Childress, eds. Christian Ethics: Problems and Prospects. Cleveland: Pilgrim, 1996.

Cobb, John B., Jr. Review of A Sense of the Divine: The Natural Enttironment from a Theocentric Perspective, by James M. Gustafson. Interpretation 50:1 (January 1996): 90.

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Cook, Martin L. "Reflections onJames Gustafson's Theological-Ethical Method." Annual of the Sode!) ofChnstian Ethics 17 (1997): 13-17.

Donagan, Alan. "On Developing a Contemporary Theistic Ethics." In Ethics, Religion and the Good Sode!): New Directions in a Pluralistic World, edited by Joseph Runzo. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1992: 43-52.

"Doubting Theology: A Forum onAn Examined Faith." Articles by William C. Placher, P. Travis Kroeker, and S. Mark Heim. Response by James M. Gustafson. Christian Century (29 June 2004): 25-36

"An Exchange on Gustafson's Ethicsfrom a Theocentric Perspective." Articles by Julian N. Hartt and Robert Cummings Neville. Response by James M. Gustafson. S oundings 63:4 (Winter 1990): 667-725.

"Focus on the Ethics of James M. Gustafson." Articles by Stanley Hauerwas, Lisa Sowle Cahill, Stephen Toulmin, Richard A. McCormick, and Paul Ramsey. Journal of Religious Ethics 13:1 (1985): 1-100, 185-209.

French, William C. "Ecological Coucems and the Anti-Foundationalist Debates: James Gustafson on Biospheric Consttaints." Annual of the S odery of Christian Ethics 17 (1997): 113-30.

Haney, Elly. ''Where Do We Go From Here, or How Should White Christian Ethicists 'Do' Ethics?" Annual of the S odery of Christian Ethics 17 (1997): 37-43.

Justice, Elaine. "Background Led Gustafson to Ponder Sociology, Religion." Emory Report 49:28 (1997). Retrieved 23 August 2004 at: http://www.emory.edu/EMORY_ REPORT / erarchive/1997 / April/ erapril.14/ 4_14_97Gustafson.html.

Kroeker, P. Travis. "Theocentric Ethics and Policy." Annual of the Sode!) of Christian Ethics 17 (1997): 19-27.

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Outka, Gene. "Remarks on a Theological Program Insttucted by Science." Thomist47 (1983): 572-91.

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114

"Profile: James M. Gustafson." Articles by James M. Gustafson, Melvin Konner, Harlan Beckley; and William A. Rottschaefer. Response by James M. Gustafson. Zygon 30:2 (June 1995): 159-226.

Reno, Russell R. Review of J amesM. Gusttifson j- Theocenttic Ethics: Interpretations and Assessments, edited by Harlan R. Beckley and Charles M. Swezey. Theololfl Todt!J 46:3 (1989): 326-31.

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Schenck, David. "Prophecy, Polemic and Piety: Reflections on Responses to Gustafson's Ethicsfrom a Theocentric Perspective." Journal ofReligious Ethics 15:1 (1987): 72-85.

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Geertz, Clifford. The Interpretation-ojCultures. New York: Basic Books, 1973: 87-125.

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Miller, Perry. The New England Mind: The Seventeenth Cmtury. Cambridge and London: Harvard University, 1954: 3-163.

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116

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