In Chapter 1, I introduced Nicholas Saunders’s claim that insofar as it requires an affirmation of ongoing divine action, Christian theology is in a “state of crisis.” On one hand, contemporary science has arguably proved to be the most successful knowledge-seeking endeavour in human history. Scientists consistently offer increasingly nuanced explanations for phenomena previously considered to be inherently mysterious or even spiritual. For many, science is even considered the final arbiter of all truth claims about reality. At the very least, it is increasingly difficult and arguably unwarranted to make theological claims running contrary to the body of knowledge developed by the natural and social sciences. Christian theology is committed to certain doctrinal affirmations that may not always appear – at least on the face of it – consistent, or at least demonstrable, with current scientific knowledge. This is perhaps most true in the case of divine action: the more that scientists learn about the laws of nature and physical mechanisms, the more difficult it becomes for many to affirm that God does things in the natural world. On the other hand, however, a robust Christian theology would seem to require an account of God’s personal, continual interaction with not only human persons but also the whole of nature. A theological retreat into a divinely unresponsive form of deism is an unsatisfactory response to scientific knowledge, insofar as it abandons much of the relational, dynamic narrative of Christian theism. This tension has led many in the science-and-religion field to seek ways of affirming both scientific knowledge and theological claims of divine action.

Philip Clayton does not consider himself a dualist, but his consistent privileging of consciousness might suggest otherwise. Nevertheless, Clayton’s premise that the mind is somehow something more than a physical process is an intuitive one, and one that is widely shared – not only in the general public but (as will become evident) in academia as well. Clayton is by no means alone in privileging the mind as a nonphysical aspect of humans that is unexplainable in physicalist terms and uniquely open to divine (inter)action. What we find when examining positions such as Clayton’s is that generally they are driven not by science, but from philosophy, intuition, or common sense. Those privileging the mind as uniquely nonphysical are apt to reject all scientific explanations of consciousness as insufficient, and as failing to address what has come to be known as the HP.

Part 1 of this project can be considered largely deflationary, insofar as it offers critiques of contemporary divine action theories and, in particular, those theories privileging the human mind as a uniquely spiritual nexus for divine action. My overall goal in Part 1 was to argue two broad points. First, noninterventionist divine action theories presuppose questionable metaphysical commitments and are both scientifically flawed and theologically inadequate. Second, while theologians overwhelmingly privilege the mind as ontologically unexplainable in scientific terms or as being uniquely spiritual, we have good reason to assume that a fully naturalistic explanation for consciousness is (in principle) available. In sum, I argued that standard divine action theories in general are insufficient, and particularly that this is the case insofar as one locates divine action in the supposedly nonphysical human mind.

Part 1 of this project can be considered largely deflationary, insofar as it offers critiques of contemporary divine action theories and, in particular, those theories privileging the human mind as a uniquely spiritual nexus for divine action. My overall goal in Part 1 was to argue two broad points. First, noninterventionist divine action theories presuppose questionable metaphysical commitments and are both scientifically flawed and theologically inadequate. Second, while theologians overwhelmingly privilege the mind as ontologically unexplainable in scientific terms or as being uniquely spiritual, we have good reason to assume that a fully naturalistic explanation for consciousness is (in principle) available. In sum, I argued that standard divine action theories in general are insufficient, and particularly that this is the case insofar as one locates divine action in the supposedly nonphysical human mind.

The study of consciousness is a fascinating area not least because it is so inherently interdisciplinary. What is the proper field of study for mind-related questions? Is it philosophy, theology, cognitive science, neuroscience, psychology, or metaphysics? While the mind may once have been the exclusive domain of philosophers and theologians, Patricia Churchland notes the shifting academic landscape: “In general terms, the mind-body problem has ceased to be the reliably tangled conundrum it once was … (all the fields together and computation) have opened the door to an integration of neuroscience, cognitive science, and philosophy in a comprehensive theoretical framework.”1

This chapter examines what can be called “pneumatological naturalism,” and concludes this three-part section on theistic naturalisms and divine action in the mind. The goal of Part 2 of this book has been to explore the various ways in which specific versions of theistic naturalism render different approaches to divine action and what it means to be natural – these models then serve as theological frameworks for understanding divine action in the naturalised mind. My argument in Part 2 so far has been that while these varying theological approaches differ in their respective emphases and methods of handling the causal joint problem, they hold in common a similar understanding of the God–nature relationship (and, indeed, the God–mind relationship), at least insofar as divine action is concerned. More specifically, it is argued that Thomism, panentheistic naturalism, and pneumatological naturalism share an affirmation that God’s active, immanent presence is inherent in any fully naturalistic account. Put differently, these theistic naturalisms reject standard causal joint models of divine action because of these models’ arguably deistic presumptions that nature is, by default, autonomous, self-sufficient, and devoid of divine activity. Theistic naturalisms instead offer models of divine action in which natural processes – and particularly the mind – are not seen as competing with divine action, but as participating with God in a fully natural manner.

Rather than approaching the divine action debate in abstract philosophical terms, Part 2 of this book has been devoted to exploring specific versions of theistic naturalism that are representative of the theological turn in science and religion. To that end, this chapter focuses on what I will call “panentheistic naturalism” – and particularly on the work of Orthodox theologian Christopher C. Knight. As Knight recognises, many of those who debate questions in the science-and-religion dialogue fail “to recognize fully the way in which the distinctive perspectives of particular theistic traditions might affect the answers given to those questions.”1

At any given moment, an untold number of individuals around the world find themselves experiencing something that has been attested throughout human history: the conscious experience of divine activity, both within their own minds and elsewhere in the world. Prayer, meditation, worship, music, art, contemplation, even theological thinking – these are just a few of the avenues through which religious believers have sought either interaction with God or God’s intentional action in specific circumstances. Indeed, Christian scriptures and tradition portray a God who, while transcendent, is also immanent in the natural world – continually responsive to humans and the rest of creation, often to seemingly dramatic effect. Yet at the same moment, physicists, cosmologists, mathematicians, biologists, and cognitive scientists in laboratories and research centres around the world are increasingly discovering the sorts of verifiable, predictable, and empirical mechanisms that would account for the same phenomena experienced by religious believers as divine activity.

At any given moment, an untold number of individuals around the world find themselves experiencing something that has been attested throughout human history: the conscious experience of divine activity, both within their own minds and elsewhere in the world. Prayer, meditation, worship, music, art, contemplation, even theological thinking – these are just a few of the avenues through which religious believers have sought either interaction with God or God’s intentional action in specific circumstances. Indeed, Christian scriptures and tradition portray a God who, while transcendent, is also immanent in the natural world – continually responsive to humans and the rest of creation, often to seemingly dramatic effect. Yet at the same moment, physicists, cosmologists, mathematicians, biologists, and cognitive scientists in laboratories and research centres around the world are increasingly discovering the sorts of verifiable, predictable, and empirical mechanisms that would account for the same phenomena experienced by religious believers as divine activity.

In the previous chapter, I surveyed the current state of contemporary divine action theories and the role that the causal joint has played in their development. It became clear that not only is the standard model of divine action largely committed to noninterventionism and incompatibilism but that it has also exhibited a significant confusion around the laws of nature. In addition to the scientific and metaphysical problems attending the standard causal joint approach, it is evident that the problem of suffering is an immensely difficult theological challenge to any proposal suggesting that God can and does respond to created beings within the temporal natural world. As a representative test case, I outlined the debate surrounding divine action and QM, concluding that standard divine action models often fail to be scientifically plausible or theologically adequate. In fact, the entire contemporary divine action dialogue is framed by terms and metaphysical commitments that may be question begging and insufficient for Christian theism, presupposing a quasi-deistic God–world model that lacks a robust understanding of God’s immanence in, and involvement with, all Creation. This being the case, science and religion has been effectively hamstrung into producing theories that either disallow any meaningful divine action, or confine it to specific areas of the natural world (thus committing the theological faux pas of “God of the gaps” thinking). Nicholas Saunders, I suggested, is not far off in suggesting that theology is in a state of crisis – at least, that is, so far as the standard divine action model is concerned.

In the previous chapter, I brought the standard noninterventionist, incompatibilist model of divine action into conversation with naturalism. I argued that causal joint theories ironically presuppose a version of scientistic naturalism in which divine action is rendered anomalous and extraneous to the normal state of affairs in the natural world. In response to this theological capitulation to scientistic naturalism, I then discussed the differences between various versions of naturalism. Naturalism, I argued, is not a necessarily reductionist, physicalist, or monolithic metaphysical framework, but includes nuanced and expansive perspectives on what it means to be natural. Finally, I highlighted the expansive naturalism of Fiona Ellis, as it provides the sort of philosophical methodology that is helpful in moving from nontheistic naturalism to one that of necessity includes an account of divine action. Not only might naturalism accommodate an account of divine action, but such a claim need not entail a rejection of scientific knowledge or methodology.

It is surely the case that no single approach to divine action in the mind, or the God–nature relationship more broadly, will ever fully comprehend the reality of God’s interaction with the physical world. Throughout this book, I have quite self-consciously avoided arguing for the superiority of one or another approach to theistic naturalism, but instead encourage a willingness to explore and inhabit the specificities of the theological worlds surveyed here. I would agree with Stoeger that “allowing a riot of images and concepts to modify and qualify one another in this way – with the help of philosophical and theological analysis – is probably the only way of optimizing our characterization of God and of God’s action.”1