Abstract
Andrew Davison’s book, addressing the issue of astrobiology (i.e. extra-terrestrial life) and the implications for Christian doctrine, comes in five parts: Creation; Revelation and Theological Knowledge; Imago Dei and Uniqueness; Christology, Salvation and Grace; Eschatology. The work argues for the likelihood of forms of intelligent life elsewhere in the universe and examines the implications for virtually all central aspects of Christian theology. For the purposes of this review, I have selected the discussion of earlier views of extra-terrestrial life, the issue of ‘life’ itself in relation to rationality, and Christology.
Earlier Views of Extra-terrestrial Life
One of the striking things Davison’s book demonstrates is that talk of extra-terrestrial life has been going on for a long time, indeed questions have been posed ‘as far back as Western philosophy is recorded’ (p. 19). So, Anaximander (c. 610–c. 546
Views of multiple worlds in the Christian tradition have gone back and forth. In the Patristic period it was discussed in terms of the ‘antipodes’, beings living on the other side of the globe. Such a view was rejected by Lactantius (since he held the earth was not like a globe) and by Augustine who held that no such land existed on the other side of the globe, and anyway Adam and Eve gave rise to the only human stock (p. 41). However, the idea of multiple worlds then became more acceptable in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries (p. 23). Aquinas, like his teacher Albert, objected to many worlds on scientific grounds (p. 25), but Bonaventure (1221–74) was open to many worlds, as was William of Ockham (1285–1347) (pp. 27–28). Then Nicholas of Cusa (1401–64) wrote enthusiastically about other worlds (pp. 29–30), and Davison supports Pierre Duhem’s assessment that this is proof of the ‘extreme liberality of the Catholic church during the close of the Middle Ages’ given the high honours bestowed on Nicholas (p. 30).
However, all was to change when one considers Giordano Bruno, burned as a heretic in 1600. He argued for other inhabited worlds, and this may have been a charge against him (p. 31). The rejection of heliocentrism by Luther and Calvin would appear to offer little scope for extra-terrestrial life (pp. 32–33) and Melanchthon explicitly states that other worlds are impossible since Jesus Christ died and was resurrected only once (p. 33). However, in the next century we read of the Puritan divine Richard Baxter waxing lyrically about many worlds (pp. 34–35), and such openness is found also in the polymath John Wilkins and the naturalist John Ray (p. 36). And so, the plurality of worlds passed from heresy to ‘a powerful argument for the rhetoric of natural theology’ (p. 37, quoting Jacques Arnould, Turbulens dans l’univers, Albin Michel, 2017, p. 83).
Life and Rationality
Given the author’s Thomism it is unsurprising that he appeals to hylomorphism in the various discussions of ‘life’, and his comments have implications for the possibilities and limitations of artificial intelligence. Davison argues that life ‘as formal, is realised in matter but underdetermined as to what sort of matter’ (p. 66). So, it can be the chemical system we know but in theory it could be a digital one (p. 66). Further he considers the issue of life in relation to ‘self-preservation’ and ‘intentional self-movement’ (p. 67), appealing to Aquinas, many of whose key ideas on life come from Aristotle’s idea of entelechia (p. 69), which Davison understands as ‘being-at-work-staying-the-same’ (p. 69, quoting Joe Sachs’s translation).
Davison stresses the embodied mind (p. 174) and that rationality ‘is not simply logic-crunching, but also deeply aligned or integrated with hopes, desires, intentions, and emotions (from which we cannot abstract the body and its variations)’ (p. 174). But it is in the context of life and rationality that Davison distances himself from Thomism. Aquinas taught the uniqueness of the rational soul; whereas in every other case he supports a ‘straightforward hylomorphism’ where it is impossible to have form without matter, he held that the human being as soul could exist apart from its matter, as it does after death. Each soul is created separately rather than emerging through natural processes (p. 178). Then in writing that ‘[m]any theologians today would not agree with Aquinas that reason belongs to the soul operating independently of the brain’ (p. 179), it is apparent that Davison would include himself among such dissenting theologians (a similar diplomatic distancing from Aquinas on this matter is found in p. 170, n. 5).
Christology and Multiple Incarnations
If other forms of intelligent life do exist, the fundamental question is how is Jesus Christ related to them. Can his incarnation represent them in any meaningful way? And would his incarnation be needed for ‘unfallen’ life? Davison concludes that the atoning work of Jesus Christ could count for other forms of life and indeed would count for forms of unfallen life, elevating such creatures to a higher level. (In this connection he mentions Robert Grosseteste, who advocates ‘incarnation anyway’—incarnation not being dependent on the fall—something hypothetical for the bishop but which can now be applied to possible unfallen creatures (pp. 320–21)). Therefore, one could support what Ted Peters calls an ‘atoning-work Christology’ whereby Christ’s death is efficacious for the whole creation (p. 315). Although the Christian tradition holds that Christ’s death can be valid for those who do not know of him (e.g. those born before the Christ event), a point Davison accepts (p. 223), he finds it most suitable for there to be a Christology not only of atonement but also of revelation. This leads him to the most controversial part of his book, the idea of multiple incarnations.
Although Aquinas did not support extra-terrestrial life, opposing it as we have seen on scientific grounds (p. 25), Davison finds plenty in his theology to support the possibility of multiple incarnations. However, objections have been raised, and one of his key conversation partners is Brian Hebblethwaite, who argues that the idea of multiple incarnations is incoherent ‘by the eschatological implications of the simultaneous existence of a number of risen humans each alleged to be the incarnate Son of God’ (‘The Impossibility of Multiple Incarnations’, Theology 104 (2001): 326).
Davison finds no problem with Hebblethwaite’s imagined meeting, although ‘what such a meeting might “mean for God”’ is ‘beyond my powers of consideration’ (p. 260). But he can explore matters ‘on the creaturely side of things’: ‘A meeting between two incarnations would not be between two identical consciousnesses or sets of memories. There would be two created natures (as two finite instantiations of the infinite act of being of the Word of God), with different creaturely histories and memories: with all, indeed, that pertains to having a body, soul, intellect, mind, and will (assuming that we can use those terms of that other nature)’ (p. 261).
Therefore ‘God would “meet” God, but since God can be said to be knowledge of himself, perhaps that is not a problem’ (p. 262). Hence in this meeting we appear to have one person present. As well as being counter-intuitive, this scenario highlights problems in the classical understanding of ‘assuming human nature’ and ‘person’. Hebblethwaite argues that in Aquinas and in ‘classical Christology’ there is ‘generic, adjectival, talk of human nature being assumed’ and ‘one cannot treat human nature in a purely adjectival way, as a theoretically multipliable garment’ (Hebblethwaite, ‘The Impossibility of Multiple Incarnations’, p. 326).
Now when it comes to ‘person’ it may be the case that later theologians have misunderstood the Patristic arguments. Davison refers to Austin Stevenson (p. 258, n. 36), who rightly argues that the Chalcedonian definition of two natures in one person has been misunderstood by theologians such as Albert Schweitzer, who read it in the light of Locke’s view of personhood grounded in consciousness and memory, thereby missing the ontological points made in Patristic arguments. But the question then is whether the views of person of the Fathers or of Aquinas are the most appropriate for engaging in a modern Christological debate. Aquinas holds to the Boethian view of personhood as ‘an individual substance of a rational nature’ (Contra Eutychen 3.5.4) and it would appear Davison supports such a view. Davison assumes that ‘person’ today is seen as ‘a bundle of memories, emotions, desires, thoughts, and so on’ (p. 258). Some may hold to such a view (which is essentially a view going back to Hume, Treatise on Human Nature 1.4.6, ‘Of Personal Identity’), but there are so many more sophisticated views to which the author could turn.
Instead, we are presented with views such as those of Mascall: ‘nothing human is missing in Christ except a human person or hypostasis’ such that ‘the absence of a human person does not mutilate the nature, for “person” is not the name of a constituent of human nature, it is a purely metaphysical term’ (p. 258, quoting Mascall, Via Media, Seabury Press, 1956, pp. 101–102). So ‘the “person” which it declares to be absent is not a psychological or physical entity, but a metaphysical one’ (p. 258, quoting Mascall, p. 103). But again, I ask: have not metaphysical views of the human person advanced beyond that of classical Christology?
Conclusions
In one sense the author is adventurous, especially in arguing for multiple incarnations. At certain points he is also prepared to ruffle a few feathers. So, for example, many Roman Catholics would be concerned about Davison’s multiple incarnations relativising Mary’s role as ‘Queen of Heaven’ and Theotokos. However, in other respects the work is extremely conservative. Right at the very beginning the reader will discern a traditional approach to theological issues: ‘Given that no created thing had to exist, creation is fundamentally an undeserved act of generous giving on the part of God’ (p. 17). Although there are instances where questions are put to the biblical texts (e.g. on the Ascension, pp. 344–46), there is little critical engagement. (And it should be clarified that the chronos/kairos distinction Davison makes is a classical rather than biblical distinction (pp. 356–57); see James Barr, Biblical Words for Time, SCM Press, 1969, p. 33.)
The book is written primarily for Christians (p. 368), and the author identifies not only as an Anglican but also as a faithful Anglican who holds to the Chalcedonian Christological definitions (p. 245, n. 2). No central Christian doctrine is doubted, and the thinkers with whom he engages are in the Christian mainstream. The most quoted figure is Thomas Aquinas; other figures important for Davison include Augustine, Luther, Calvin, and Barth (missing from the index). Readers may, like me, feel as though they are held in a theological straitjacket, especially given the centrality of Aquinas. He dominates the whole argument and even the bibliography is divided twofold between ‘Works of Thomas Aquinas’ and ‘General Bibliography’. Eric Mascall, whom Davison resembles in many ways (both are Thomists, traditional Anglican theologians, and have a ‘scientific’ background—Mascall in mathematics and Davison in biochemistry), is quoted approvingly in that although one cannot say ‘Thomas has spoken, the case is closed’, one can say: ‘Thomas has spoken, the matter is begun’ (p. 15). Given the Thomistic framework, perhaps the subtitle should run: ‘Exploring the Implications of Life in the Universe from a Thomistic Perspective’.
It is certainly the case that ‘attention to questions posed by astrobiology can help us return to familiar topics with new eyes’ (p. 284). Within the Thomistic framework Davison has certainly opened new and interesting avenues with a rigorous theological logic. But this logic moves in the realm of what Hegel would call ‘understanding’ (Verstand) rather than ‘reason’ (Vernunft). Hegel emphasises ‘the tremendous power of the negative’ and that the reality of God must include this ‘negative’. Hence ‘the life of Spirit is not the life that shrinks from death, and keeps itself untouched by devastation, but rather the life that endures it and maintains itself in it’ (Phenomenology of Spirit, trans. A.V. Miller, Oxford University Press, 1977, p. 19). A case can be made that aspects of Hegel’s dialectic are anticipated by Luther in his Heidelberg Disputation, and who elsewhere claimed that one is made a theologian by ‘dying and being damned’ (Weimarer Ausgabe 5.163.28). Perhaps it is this sense of ‘struggle’ that I missed in Davison’s otherwise extremely informative book.