12

Human freedom and the freedom of natural processes:

Cornel W du Toit
Research Institute for Theology and Religion,
University of South Africa, Pretoria, South Africa

Introduction

My premise is that a plausible doctrine of God (and theology as a whole) must not conflict with current
scientific knowledge. It does not mean that theology should turn positivist or submit to the dictates of a closed
scientific order. But it does imply a critical attitude towards metaphysical postulates framed in terms of a
worldview based on limited scientific insight. Likewise it entails criticism of contemporary attempts to
accommodate God’s activity in scientific paradigms like quantum determinism; of unwarranted inferences from
the orderliness and apparent planning of nature such as those of intelligent design theorists; and finally, of the
anthropic principle that bases grand assumptions on the fine-tuning and balance displayed by our solar system.
It does mean that theology, with due regard to its distinctive character, should be mindful of the findings
of physical, cosmological, biological and other sciences, but need not incorporate these indiscriminately.
Theology will continue to speak about God in images, metaphors, anthropomorphisms and anthropopathic
language. It will incorporate the influence, operation and experience of transcendence at a human, existential
level. Thus the scope for experience of the deity is circumscribed by human capacity and capabilities.
The article traces the development of causality in physical science and examines its functioning in
theology, as well as its demand for a different approach to power, especially the omnipotence and omnicausality
of God. It also takes a critical look at the ascription of causal events to God. That requires scrutiny of the
background and history of the concept of causality.
Modern theology displays a fundamental insecurity.1 “[Modern theology] ... lives with the uncomfortable
feeling that there is something not quite right with knowledge [founded] in faith – or better, there is something
wrong with it.”2 It no longer takes God to be an object of human research and knowledge, as orthodox tradition
was wont to do. Van der Kooi3 maintains that the traditional notion of God has changed to the extent that it can
at most function as a concept or word in the language we use. This assigns theology the task of rethinking the
doctrine of God so that it will be meaningful once more in our day and age. Runzo4 expresses a similar
sentiment. The biblical sciences work with texts, church history with events, but (systematic) theology seeks to
define truths about God: “This immediately casts a certain shadow or religious suspicion on theology.” But there
is no other way. Even if we premise ourselves on God’s self-revelation in Scripture we cannot but reflect on it in
terms of our own conceptual schemes, which in their turn are shaped by our worldview. “[H]uman reasoning
about God is an intrinsic element of the very content itself of revelation and the experience of God.”5
On the one hand we confess, following Kant, that God is unknowable or, following Barth, that he is the
Totally Other (Ganz Andere). Yet it does not deter theologians and metaphysicists from writing whole volumes
about him. Examples will be furnished below.
God’s unknowability does not mean that he cannot be experienced (via the Word, sacraments, rites,
tradition), or that crucial human experiences cannot be associated with his presence and activity. But that is not
the same as metaphysically construed ideas about the essence of God.
The notion of a-causal discourse on God may well be misinterpreted if it were to imply that he exercises
no influence or refrains from active involvement. That is not the intention. It simply means critically evaluating
causal predication to whatever agency (including transcendent forces) in light of a reappraisal of the concept of
causality. It entails applying God’s a-causality to nature and physical processes that are self-explanatory by
virtue of their autopoietic character. The notion of a-causality affirms that God does not intervene by
manipulating natural processes.
An a-causal relation between God and the natural world does not imply a new brand of deism or
endorsement of Steven Gould’s NOMA (non-overlapping magistrata) principle. Deism means the absence of a

1
Knowledge has become mystery. Absolute norms to appraise truth have become blurred. Unified knowledge has made way for multi-
perspectivity. See also C.W. Du Toit, Viewed from the shoulders of God (Pretoria: RITR, 2007), 155.
2
C. van der Kooi, As in a mirror. John Calvin and Karl Barth on knowing God (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2005), 226.
3
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 226.
4
J. Runzo, Reason, relativism and God (Hampshire: Macmillan, 1986), 234.
5
Runzo, Reason, 235.
creator God from an autopoietic creation. Divine a-causality, on the other hand, acknowledges his involvement
with the human world without disregarding the self-explanatory character of physical and other natural
processes.
If one accepts the autopoeticism of natural processes and focuses instead on God’s influence on the
believer’s existential world, the inescapable question is whether it is not equally illegitimate to attribute such
involvement in people’s personal situations to him. After all, that involvement is not provable either. So why not
repudiate divine activity in our personal lives as well? But there is a world of difference between forcibly
imposing divine activity on self-explanatory natural processes and ascribing the course of events to divine
intervention at the complex level of personal faith. The notion of God’s consequential activity clarifies this. If
we choose to believe that God accepts, forgives, loves us and arranges our lives, that belief influences our
worldview and actions. It cannot be repudiated, nor does it contradict natural laws and processes.

Three main phases in the development of the concept of causality

There is no era in human history when some notion of causality did not feature. The level at which it functions
has always been linked intuitively with everyday experience, tradition and popular sentiments. Things don’t just
happen. Gods, humans, all manner of good or evil forces are responsible for what exists and what happens.
People do not examine causality scientifically. By and large complex events are simplistically ascribed to a
single agency.
Hardly any scientific concept has been subject to as much change as causality. It evolved from pre-
scientific animism, to Greek ontology, to Newtonian mechanistic physics, to relativity and quantum
indeterminacy. Not only did new insights give rise to new conceptions of causality; they culminated in the
virtual elimination of the very idea: “At the beginning there was the apparent truism that science consists in the
knowledge of causes; we now end up with the paradoxical avowal that there is no place at all in the programme
of science for the ‘knowledge of causes’.”6
We can discern three phases in scientific reflection on causality. The first was the Greek (mainly
Aristotelian) era, which lasted from classical times up to the 15th century scientific revolution, the dawn of the
second era. The third was the era of modernism and quantum interpretation of reality. Obviously this trichotomy
is a broad approximation and each era can be subdivided into various secondary phases.

Classical (Greek) views of causality

The concept of causality is discussed by Plato (429-347 BCE) in his Phaedo. In this dialogue causality is clearly
no longer rooted in a magical or animistic worldview. Studying nature meant looking for the causes of things:
how and why did they come about and eventually vanish? Causes are classified logically: physical motion is a
proximal cause governing the body’s position, whereas thought, the real cause, is the remote cause of physical
motion.7
Aristotle (384-322 BCE) deals with causality in books II and III of his volume on physics.8 He discusses
change and the reasons we adduce for it. He distinguishes between a material cause (causa materialis), the
matter which constitutes something and in which it resides; a formal cause (causa formalis), the form or
archetype (essence and genus); an effective cause (causa efficiens), the principal source or agency of change;
and the final cause (causa finalis), the telos, purpose or reason for doing something. The causa finalis has
teleological undertones and does not feature in physical science. Natural processes are blind. To Aristotle the
effective cause precedes the effect. Together the four causes account for changes in nature. Aristotle assumed
temporal contiguity between cause and effect.9
Whereas weather conditions were often attributed to the gods, Aristotle10 considered them natural. It
rains because warm air rises (remember, every element always moves to its natural ‘position’), cools and is
precipitated as raindrops. Natural processes have nothing to do with human weal or woe: “Similarly if a man’s
crop is spoiled on the threshing-floor, the rain did not fall for the sake of this – in order that the crop might be
spoiled – but that result just followed ... Why then should it not be the same with the parts in nature ...?”11
Aristotle’s doctrine of causality was particularly influential in the Middle Ages. It shifted changes that occur
from the magical to the rational sphere. The causa formalis was no longer part of a Platonic world of ideas; it
was imbedded in matter.

6
Kotarbinski, quoted in Z. Puterman, The concept of causal connection (Vols I and II, Filosofika Studier, no. 30, (Uppsala, University of
Uppsala,1977), 20.
7
This view was to provoke strong opposition. Descartes could not believe that immaterial thought can move material objects. See W.
Ehrenberg, Dice of the gods (London, University of London, 1977), 4-5.
8
Aristotle (The complete works of Aristotle, vol. I, Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1984), 327-356.
9
Ehrenberg, Dice , 7.
10
Aristotle, The complete works, 339.
11
Aristotle, The complete works, 339.
 Aristotle identifies twelve modes of causation. An important distinction is that between actual and
potential. He explains it with reference to motion: “... motion is in the movable. It is the fulfilment of this
potentiality by the action of that which has the power of causing motion; and the actuality of that which has the
power of causing motion is not other than the actuality of the movable; for it must be the fulfilment of both.”12
The same effect can have different causes; some things cause each other reciprocally, though not in the same
manner; and the same cause can have different consequences.13
He also discusses the status of chance and spontaneity.14 Some things simply happen for no apparent
reason. “But chance and spontaneity are also reckoned among causes.”15 There are innumerable reasons for
chance events.16 He stresses that some things occur regularly.17 Chance and spontaneity are incidental modalities
of causes rather than additional causes. Spontaneity differs from chance and is governed by deliberation. People
as moral agents can will something for some reason. The difference lies in intentionality, which is evinced by
human agents.18

The Middle Ages

Boethius (480-525)

Although Boethius dates to the very early Middle Ages (5th-15th century), his principal work, De consolatione
philosophiae, was, after the Gospels, the most influential book during the ensuing centuries. The Consolation
was probably written while he was awaiting execution (he was charged with high treason, which he denied).
Boethius was not happy with Aristotle’s emphasis on chance.19 In his Consolation he engages in dialogue with
philosophy, personified as a woman. There is a higher power who determines and ordains everything. The
Christian God leaves no loopholes, hence Aristotle’s notion of chance is rejected. He elevates the cause-effect
sequence to a closed network of causes, thus extending divine providence across the spectrum. “If chance is
defined as an event produced by random motion without any causal nexus, I would say there is no such thing as
chance. If God imposes order upon all things there is no opportunity for random events.”20 Clearly this impugns
human freedom, which Boethius tries to solve by invoking the mystery of time. God created the world, space
and time and their state is that of God’s eternal presence. “Everything that is known is comprehended not
according to its own nature, but according to the ability to know of those who do the knowing.”21 God knows
proleptically what choices humans will make and, given this knowledge, he ordains what will happen. Thus
Boethius manages to preserve both human freedom and divine omnicausality. Aristotle never linked causes in
such a closed network.
Medieval people were unaware of having a worldview with schematic implications for their thinking.
Everything, including God’s being, was taken literally as expounded. Truth claims about God were considered
claims about God himself. This was because of “the absence of any notion that every human conception only
derives its meaning and truth from within the strictures of an enculturated human schema”.22 That awareness
would only dawn with Kant.
Yet the high Middle Ages (11th-13th century) saw a change.23 In the 12th century, under the influence of
Aristotle, the world was increasingly seen as a place that is governed by laws. “In such a world, how were men
to regard God’s interventions by means of miracles? What sort of powers and causes formed the basis for
miracles taking place? ... It was assumed that created things have a receptive capacity, a potentiae oboedentialis,
which made possible a reaction or response on the part of lower natural powers and causes to the higher,
preternatural power of God himself.”24

Luther (1483-1546)

12
Aristotle, The complete works, 344; also see 333.
13
Aristotle, The complete works,333.
14
Aristotle, The complete works,334ff.
15
Aristotle, The complete works,334.
16
Aristotle, The complete works,336.
17
Aristotle, The complete works,335.
18
Aristotle, The complete works,335.
19
Ehrenberg, Dice,14.
20
Quoted in Ehrenberg, Dice,13.
21
Quoted in Ehrenberg, Dice,14.
22
Runzo, Reason, 240.
23
In the 13th century Duns Scotus (1265-1308) distinguished between natural, free and causal causes. Most things are determined by
natural causes and are self-evident. Free causes are accompanied by a sense of making a conscious choice and they do not always have
the same effect. A causal cause is a consequence of some extraordinary event such as lamb being born with two heads (Ehrenberg
1977:15-16).
24
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 180.
Luther was a transitional figure between the late Middle Ages and early modernity. I deal with him cursorily
because of his enormous influence on Reformed theology. The issue of causality and God’s omnicausality is
raised in the context of the confinement of the human will, which is the title of the work that we briefly consider
(De servo arbitrio). It is a diatribe against Desiderius Erasmus’s treatise on free will. The premise is God’s fore-
knowledge of what happens according to his will. “Do you suppose that He does not will what He foreknows, or
that He does not foreknow what He wills? If He wills what He foreknows, His will is eternal and changeless,
because His nature is so.”25 A stark, metaphysical image of God as the Unmoved Mover emerges. Luther cites
Boethius approvingly: “Yet the will of God, which rules over our mutable will, is changeless and sure – as
Boetius [sic] sings, ‘Immovable Thyself, Thou movement giv’st to all’; and our will, principally because of its
corruption, can do no good of itself.”26 The entire work is a rhetorical exercise using biblical texts to prove the
bondage of the human will (to sin/Satan). But that will is no less bound by God’s foreknowledge, which in its
turn is based on his will. “However, with regard to God, and in all that bears on salvation or damnation, he has
no ‘free-will’, but is a captive, prisoner and bondslave, either to the will of God, or to the will of Satan.”27
The background to this style of reasoning is the metaphysical concept of ‘by grace alone’ (sola gratia).
Fears of the Roman Catholic notion of good works as a (subsidiary) means to salvation are taken to absurd
lengths in the doctrine of the captivity of the human will. If humans could do good or believe in God of their
own accord, God’s salvific activity would be redundant – and that could not be countenanced! Even Gen. 4:7,
where God tells Cain to master evil, is dismissed, because we in ourselves cannot master evil. “What need is
there for the Spirit, or Christ, or God if ‘free-will’ can overcome the motions of the mind to evil? ... If these
words were taken indicatively, as they stand, they would be promises of God; and, since He cannot lie, the result
would be that no man would sin; and then it would be needless to give men commandments.”28
The intention is not to demolish the Reformed cornerstone of sola gratia. I am merely asking whether the
outdated metaphysical loading of the concept has not become redundant. Luther’s view remains fundamental to
Reformed doctrine and forms the background to the notion of causality in Reformed churches29 and their
resistance to scientific theses about autopoetic nature and processes governed by chance.

The scientific era

The crucial change made by the 16th century scientific revolution was that it was no longer concerned about the
causes of consequences but about the operation of cause and effect: what were the underlying principles?

Galileo (1564-1642)

Galileo established classical mechanics. He rejected the Aristotelian notion that every object (body) strives and
reaches for its ‘natural’ position.30 That would mean ascribing it to some inherent force (élan vital?). Galileo
also repudiated the notion that motion happens only under direct impact of a force. It is an intuitive idea that
force can only be transmitted through physical contact. It was not understood that it could function at a distance
(see electro-magnetism, a later discovery). This gives rise to the concept of inertia, according to which a body
that is not subject to the operation or influence of some force would exist in a state of perpetual repose or
motion. Hence an active force is the reason for change and motion. Descartes denied this, accepting only
extension. To him even motion was fortuitous, an accident and not something substantial.31

Hume (1711-1776)

Hume’s critique of naïve views of causality remained hugely influential for a long time. In his The natural
history of religion32 he writes as follows about cause and effect: “We are placed in this world as in a great
theatre, where the true springs and causes of every event are entirely concealed to us; nor have we either
sufficient wisdom to foresee, or power to prevent those ills, with which we are continually threatened. … No
wonder, then, that mankind, being placed in such an absolute ignorance of causes, and being so anxious

25
M. Luther, The bondage of the will. (Translated by J.I. Packer & O.R. Johnston, London: Clarke, 1957), 80.
26
Luther, The bondage, 81.
27
Luther, The bondage, 107.
28
Luther, The bondage, 157.
29
Various other proposals were made to harmonise determinism and free will. One example is the 16th century Jesuit, Luis de Molina,
tried to retain both divine providence and human free will. God foreknows human choices, consequently they accord with his intentions.
He knew beforehand that Pharaoh would harden his heart and not allow the Israelites to leave Egypt. Jesus knew that Peter would deny
him. God does not intervene by abolishing human free will, for it does not jeopardise his sovereignty.
30
See Aristotle, Complete works, 355.
31
Puterman, The concept, 112.
32
D. Hume, ‘The natural history of religions’, in Hume on religion (R. Wollheim, London: Collins, 1963b , 31-99), 40ff.
concerning their future, should immediately acknowledge a dependence on invisible powers, possessed of
sentiment and intelligence.”
He identifies basic rules for the cause-effect relationship: temporal and spatial contiguity; cause precedes
effect; a consistent link (unity) between cause and effect; the same cause always triggers the same effect; if
different causes have the same effect it implies that they share a common property; if resembling causes have
different effects it must attributed to specific qualities in which they differ; if any object increases (in whatever
respect) with the increase of its cause, it is to be regarded as a compound effect; an object which exists for any
time in its perfection without producing its effect is not the whole cause of that effect when it eventually
occurs.33
The following quotations from his work clarify these rules. We impose a causal relation between two
events because of their contiguity. “What is our idea of necessity, when we say that two objects are necessarily
connected together? … I perceive, that they are contiguous in time and place, and that the object we call cause
precedes the other we call effect.”34 However, “… reason alone can never give rise to any original idea, and
reason as distinguish’d from experience, can never make us conclude, that a cause or productive quality is
absolutely prerequisite to every beginning of existence… [S]ince reason can never give rise to the idea of
efficacy, that idea must be deriv’d from experience, and from some particular instances of this efficacy, which
make their passage into my mind by common channels of sensation or reflection.”35
Hume held the meta-ethical view that moral judgments principally express feelings. He saw moral values
as matters of social convention. Humans do not have a separate faculty of moral perception. Morals are
attributable to our faculties of sensory perception. Hume sees the operation of the mind when viewing causality
in nature and causality in human affairs (morality) as analogous: “We must now shew, that as the union betwixt
motives and actions has the same constancy, as that in any natural operations, so its influence on the
understanding is also the same, in determining us to infer the existence of one from that of another.”36 Our mind
cannot attribute necessity to the operations in nature and deny the same necessity in human operations: “Now
moral evidence is nothing but the conclusion concerning the actions of men, deriv’d from the consideration of
their motives, temper and situation.”37 And in his Dialogues he writes: “What I have said concerning natural evil
will apply to moral conduct, with little or no variation; and we have no more reason to infer, that the rectitude of
the Supreme Being resembles human rectitude than that his benevolence resembles the human.”38
The relevance of Hume’s thought to our subject is the way humans observe events in physical reality,
connect these events in a causal, necessary way and transpose this method of arriving at the truth to the level of
human experience in general and morals in particular. We impose a causal link between a person’s motive and
the ensuing deed. As in the case of natural phenomena, the link between motive and deed on a moral level is
established through custom (the way the mind operates).39 On a religious level we ultimately attribute whatever
happens to the will of God. Nothing transpires unless God wills it. Bad experiences raise the question why God
willed (allowed) that to happen to me. We then come up with all sorts of motives God could have had (sin,
disobedience, a test, etc.) to inflict the event on us.
Force and causality (Newton (1642-1727))

Newton sees force as inherent (vis insita) in an entity. It is an inherent inertia, implying that an entity that is not
subjected to the exercise of a force will remain in a state of repose or perpetual motion.40 Hence to Newton
inertia is a kind of ‘inactive’ force in matter. A force acting from outside (vis impressa) can affect this and
influence the entity’s repose or motion. Such an extraneous force is pure action. Newton also introduces the
novel concept of direct interaction over distance. In this way he sought to establish motion’s independence of
time (i.e. simultaneity in the universe). Force in the sense of action over distance became a basic tenet of
classical physics.41 That, plus external force as a cause, gave causal theory a mechanical basis.42 Physical laws
in which force features were regarded as causal laws.
Equating force with cause created confusion between deterministic and causal laws (which are not the
same). In the 19th century it was realised that force was a theoretical construct. Once we accept that physical

33
Ehrenberg, Dice, 30-31.
34
D. Hume, A treatise of human nature, text revised by P.H. Nidditch. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1978), 155.
35
Hume, A treatise, 157.
36
D. Hume, A treatise, 404.
37
D. Hume, A treatise, 404.
38
D. Hume, ‘Dialogues concerning natural religion’, in R.Wollheim, Hume on religion (London: Collins, 1963),187.
39
Custom is a principle of human nature. All inferences from experience are effects of custom, not of reasoning. Custom is one of the
‘principles of nature’ which renders our experience useful to us by providing a kind of pre-established harmony between the course of
nature and the succession of our ideas (Altmann 2002:87,106). Custom, as used by Hume, is thus a feature of the mind, not of the
community. The capacity of the mind to use causal statements correlates, according to Altmann (1978:101), with physical properties
that the brain acquired during the evolution of the species.
40
Puterman, The concept, 112.
41
Puterman. The concept, 113.
42
Puterman, The concept , 114.
interactions are governed by time we can no longer assume that classical mechanics expresses a causal relation.
Classical mechanics is symmetrical with time. Eliminating the passage of time (e.g. a lunar eclipse) shows that
some interactions are deterministic rather than causal (determinism is unequivocal, whereas causality can be
interpreted variously, hence is multivocal). Mechanical processes may be causally determined. However,
mechanical processes cannot indicate the flow of time, for it deals exclusively with symmetrical relations in
which something is either a cause or an effect. So the relation can be inverted. Flow of time is extrinsic to
mechanics, but is necessary to distinguish between cause and effect. Within the flow of time completed
processes are irreversible.43

Kant and the transition from ontology of being to epistemological ontology

Kant brought about a radical paradigm shift in epistemology, metaphysics and theology. Van der Kooi44 sees
him as a watershed in theology: a switch from a theocentric to an anthropocentric worldview. After him
knowledge was confined to this-worldly, human phenomena. The focus shifted from the known object to the
knowing subject. The accent on the nature of the knowing subject set boundaries for the study of knowable
things. The knowing subject was to become a cornerstone of modernism.
Kant made knowledge an immanent matter. It has objective status that cannot exceed the limits of human
faculties. Knowledge of God no longer centred on the supernatural or the preternatural (going beyond nature).45
“God himself has become the Unknown. Only his relation to the world can be spoken about, and then only in
terms of a category that we ourselves employ in our relation to the world, namely causality.”46 This was a major
development. Talk about God is always anthropomorphic.47 Kant distinguishes between symbolic and dogmatic
anthropomorphism. Whereas the latter presumes that God, the supreme being, is knowable, symbolic anthro-
pomorphism uses metaphors to express knowledge manifested in God’s relations with the world. This is a
relational analogy, differing from the analogy of being (Aquinas’s analogia entis) or the analogy of faith
(Barth’s analogia fidei). To Kant God’s relation to the world is analogous with the ‘relation’ between a ship and
its builder, a clock and a clockmaker or a general and his regiment.48 This both overlaps and differs from the
proposed a-causal theology. Kant’s relation, albeit analogous, still implies that objective reality is externally
determined (the example of the shipbuilder and the clockmaker). It is too close to dogmatic anthropomorphism,
which lands theology in deep water when it has to defend that relation on a scientific forum. The relational
analogy does work when it refers to interpersonal interaction (the general and his regiment). In addition Kant
remains trapped in dualism with his distinction between pure and practical reason. Practical reason and its
assumptions merely establish a new metaphysics.
Scientific criticism of causal theory is accommodated by my proposal of immanent transcendence.49

Erosion of the concept of causality in the physical sciences in the 19th century

Erosion of the concept of causality was a gradual process. As in the case of evolution theory, more and more
instances were added to the list of objections to the concept. The notion of causality was progressively whittled
down with every new discovery in the micro-world of atoms. “The enquiry into causes had been successful
everywhere and made physics and chemistry technologically productive.”50 Ehrenberg cites the following
examples:

● In the 19th century atomism gained fresh impetus from the calculation of Avogadro’s
number – the number of atoms per weight unit of matter. Early in the 19th century it was
discovered that atoms can be electrically charged. By the end of the century the photo-
electric effect was discovered. “But by and by in the nineteenth century cases and fields of
study came under consideration in which laws and causes appeared to be replaced by
randomness and chance.”51 A case in point was research into gases. The numbers of
molecules and atoms involved were so great that they could only be approximated as
means of random events. Thus the mean speed of molecules, determined by the tempera-

43
Puterman, The concept, 115.
44
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 225.
45
See Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 225.
46
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 243.
47
We cannot dispense with anthropomorphic language, even in physics. Examples of anthropomorphic scientific terms are force; energy;
resistance; power; fatigue (as in metal fatigue); labour. See Puterman, The concept, 104ff.
48
See Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 243-244.
49
C.W. du Toit, ‘Shifting frontiers of transcendence in theology, philosophy and science’ (in HTS 2011, 67/1, Art #879, 10 pages).
50
Ehrenberg, Dice, 52.
51
Ehrenberg, Dice, 53.
 ture of the gas, their weight and size were sufficient to arrive at a kinetic theory of gases,
which eventually found a place in statistical mechanics.52
● Radioactivity further supported the role of chance. In 1903 Crookes, Elster and Geitel
discovered that scintillations (caused by alpha particles, being positively loaded helium
atoms) appear on a fluorescent screen located close to a radium source. This was the first
observation in history of an effect produced by an individual atom. It enabled them to
establish that radiation is not a continuous process. “No causal explanation was ever found
which explained the instant of transmutation.”53
● Schrödinger (1887-1961) established wave mechanics.54 From this he inferred that the
motion of particles was not governed by laws. “The motion of particles conforms to the
laws of probability but the probability itself is propagated in accordance with the laws of
causality.”55
● Heisenberg and quantum theory: again the role of chance overshadowed necessity. This
was a radical departure from classical physics, which saw causality and space-time as one.
In quantum theory they are complementary and mutually exclusive.56

In 1927 Eddington declared that physics could no longer endorse a scheme of deterministic laws. “Science
thereby withdraws its moral opposition to free will.”57
The question is: in how far does the end of causality in the physical sciences suggest an a-causal
approach for theology? Also, is it necessary, maybe even inescapable? That applies to both the doctrine of God
and the concept of personhood.

An a-causal doctrine of God?

Since the genesis of human thought the deity was used as an explanatory concept to fathom reality. The need to
understand and explain is still with us, but it has come to mean something else. To medieval man the existence
and omnicausal activity of God were unquestionably assured, while the natural world was mysterious and
uncertain. Today the positions are reversed. The operation of natural processes is fairly firmly established, but
the existence and character of God are uncertain. Van der Kooi58 confirms this: “That which is evident no longer
lies above man, but below him.”
Because science offers convincing grounds for grasping and explaining the physical world (creation), and
because that conflicts with the notion that self-explanatory processes are actually controlled by God, we must
ask why the idea of an all-governing, all-powerful God is forced upon levels of understanding where it is not
needed. What we can understand is no longer supernatural, mysterious or transcendent.

God the Monarch of premodernism

McFague59 points out that biblical language about God was governed by the worldview of that age and its
historically determined image of God the king. This led to a monarchic doctrine of God, whose hallmarks were
absolute power and sovereignty. That doctrine has become obsolete. “It supports conceiving of God as a being
existing somewhere apart from the world and ruling it externally either directly through divine intervention or
indirectly through controlling the wills of his subjects ... This picture, while simplistic and anachronistic,
continues in spite of its limitations, because of its psychological power: it makes us feel good about God and
about ourselves. It inspires strong emotions of awe, gratitude, and trust toward God and, in ourselves, engenders
a satisfying swing from abject guilt to joyous relief. Its very power is part of its danger, and any picture that
seeks to replace it must reckon with its attraction.”60
Talking about God in such terms is passé, besides contradicting the idea that God can be grasped by
human intelligence. “In short, is the value of accommodated language not undermined by God’s majesty,
precisely because He is not swallowed up in his accommodation?”61 Calvin uses the image of a mother speaking
to her child in baby-talk. But that is in fact the point: the baby has grown up, is an adult (Bonhoeffer) and we no
longer need baby-talk. That was part of the uninformed worldview of yore.

52
Ehernberg, Dice, 54.
53
Ehernberg, Dice, 55.
54
Puterman, The concept, 63.
55
Puterman, The concept, 64.
56
Puterman, The concept, 66.
57
Ehrenberg, Dice, 68.
58
As in a mirror, 226.
59
S. McFague, Models of God. Theology for an ecological, nuclear age (Philadelphia. Fortress, 1987), 63ff.
60
McFague, Models, 64-65.
61
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 185; see also186.
 Otto Weber renounces the notion of God’s absolute power (potentia absoluta). His omnipotence is divine
precisely because he relinquished it.62 His power and his will are inseparable, implying that any arbitrary
exercise of power is tempered by his will, the will of the covenant, so his history is not conceivable without the
human race. But Weber is no less insistent that divine power is not confined to what is humanly possible. God
can do the impossible, like becoming human, vanquishing death, justifying the ungodly.63 There are various
objections to the traditional Reformed doctrine of God. It is based on outdated metaphysical systems and falls
back on the Greek notion of an unmoved mover. The same may be said of the traditional proofs of God’s
existence (cf. Aquinas). The doctrine of an all-powerful, all-governing God is an embarrassment to theology in
light of present-day cosmological, physical and biological insight into autopoietic processes. Then why does
power remain so dominant in reflections on God? Surely we have moved beyond the do ut des idea, whereby we
have to bargain with an all-governing God, bribing him to do humankind some miraculous favour. That
culminates in the theodicy problem which, despite all manner of metaphysical constructs devised by
theologians, cannot be adequately resolved. It also leads to a tug of war between determinism and human
freedom, which likewise remains inconclusive. It operates with the problematic doctrines of predestination and
election, which in their turn require metaphysical constructs to counter the arguments against them (cf. Barth’s
solution). It conflicts with the idea of a personal God who relates to humans. And it does not accord with more
spontaneous, anthropomorphic language about God.
The classical Reformed doctrine of God (exemplified by Calvin) takes divine omnipotence for granted.
God’s power (potentia) includes the right and authority (potestas) to exercise it.64 This links up with the notion
of the unmoved mover without whom nothing can exist or happen. The divine attributes – omnipotence,
omniscience, omnipresence and the like – are inevitably metaphysical concepts with little more than symbolic
value, for nobody can grasp what something like omnipotence or omniscience really means (finitum non capax
infiniti).

Shift of focus from ontological reality to thinking subject

Kant focuses on human cognitive ability and the structures of human reason. Part of the regulative function of
human reason, according to him, is the fact that we not only think about things we cannot know, but are also
incapable of not thinking about them. “In thinking itself, he says, there is the tendency to go beyond all
experience, namely the unconditioned in things in themselves, or in a series of conditions ‘which reason, by
necessity and by right, demands in things in themselves, as required to complete the series of conditions’.”65
Hence the regulative principle of reason requires a kind of rational wholeness, which includes the
metaphysically oriented aspects of human thought: “... reason has the inclination to venture to the farthest
bounds of knowledge and to seek for a unity in which it can find rest.”66 It is reminiscent of Augustine’s restless
heart that can only find peace in God.67 The problem is that this creates new aporias: “As soon as one begins to
regard this regulative or Unbedingte as an object that man can know, as constitutive principle about which men
can form a concept, one falls into antinomies. The regulative idea is not an object that can be defined by
thought; it is nothing more than a necessary framework that makes thinking in its unity possible.”68 Theological
examples of this regulative idea include the oneness of the trinity, divine attributes like omniscience,
omnipotence, omnipresence, immutability, et cetera. They are purely regulative, for we don’t know what
omnipotence, omniscience, omnipresence and the like really mean. The exception is analogies, which we can
imagine and which feature in experience of God via prayer, worship and human experience. These are images of
God as a father, mother, friend, judge, teacher or whatever. That is where an a-causal theology puts the accent.

Barth

62
O. Weber, Grundlagen der dogmatik I, (Göttingen: Neukirchener Verlag.1972 [1954]), 486. In his own words: “Wir sind, indem wir
seiner Allmacht preisgegeben sind, in Wahrheit ihm als dem Allmächtigen preisgeben” (O. Weber, Grundlagen, 487). This may sound
paradoxical but underscores the notion of ‘taming’ metaphysical concepts by linking them to human existence. Thus we have
‘overcome’ God’s omnipotence, exactly because we are given (attached) to the Almighty.
63
O.Weber, Grundlagen, 487.
64
Barth puts it thus (CD II/1, 1957:526): “Like all true might, it is in itself and from the beginning legitimate power, the power of the
holiness, righteousness, and wisdom which is grounded in itself, in the love and freedom of the divine person. … What God is able to
do de facto, He is also able to do de jure.” God’s power stems from his ownership of his creation. As the potter (Jer. 18:6; Rom. 9:20)
he has a claim to the clay that belongs to him. Many other texts are cited to make this point (Luther 1957:526).
65
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 242.
66
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 242. Also see W. Pannenberg. Metaphysics and the idea of God (Edinburgh: T&T Clark,1988), 22ff.
67
In their design of a neuro-theology d’Aquily and Newberg also identify ‘properties’ of the human brain that are necessary to make sense
of the world. One of these is the need for explanation and the unity of everything (see Eugene G. d'Aquili, Andrew B. Newberg, The
mystical mind : probing the biology of religious experience , (Minneapolis, MN : Fortress Press, 1999).
68
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 242.
Berkhof69 points out that 19th century theology (under the influence of German idealism with its focus on the
subject) marks a radical departure from the metaphysical doctrine of God of earlier centuries by proposing what
is known as mediation theology (Vermittlungstheologie). God’s transcendence is inseparable from his
condescension (condescendentie), that is his incarnation.70
Karl Barth refused to venture into the field of any kind of natural theology or theology of nature. That
accounts for his otherwise inexplicable antipathy to the physical sciences (which he assigned at best a niche ‘at
God’s left hand’). Did he sense that any theological attempt to explain God’s role in the operation of natural
processes would do the God concept a disfavour? Rather keep quiet about any supposed divine control of
nature! Although Barth eschews interaction with the sciences, nature (God’s creation), God’s ownership of
creation and his omni-governance and omnicausality in natural processes feature throughout his theology.
But does a contemporary God concept require metaphysical constructs of divine attributes? Failure to
speak of God’s role in self-explanatory physical processes does not diminish his sovereignty. Divine
involvement makes sense at the level of interpersonal relations where existential human problems are
experienced acutely. That is where human religious experience affirms God’s role as reconciler, comforter,
friend, succour, et cetera.
But do totally incomprehensible metaphysical processes become intelligible if we link them with very
concrete personal, social or historical concepts? If we ‘domesticate’ metaphysical or radically transcendent
concepts (either by way of the Thomist analogy of being or the Barthian analogy of faith), are we not erasing the
difference between divine and human reality? What are we saying when we talk about God’s caring
omnipotence? It sheds no light on the metaphysical concept of omnipotence, for that we can never fathom. It
does add a depth (transcendent) dimension to the concept of care: we can understand concepts like love,
forgiveness, mercy, compassion, reconciliation, pity. But then these concepts acquire a depth dimension which
nowadays might be termed miraculous when they refer to God’s involvement with human beings. In some
human situations mercy, forgiveness, compassion are simply unthinkable. When − counter to all expectation –
they are manifested and God’s hand is read into what happens, it is experienced miraculous, and so ordinary
human events acquire a transcendent dimension. That is the approach I espouse, which I call immanent
transcendence.71
A hallmark of God’s (metaphysical) attributes is that they invariably comprise twin concepts: a
metaphysical term linked with a familiar human quality. In this way God’s power is linked with his care.
Because God is responsible for everything and has to care for it, he surely needs to have the ability (power) to
do so. But Barth’s strategy in this respect is misleading. Linking a familiar quality like goodness, love, care or
faithfulness with an unknowable metaphysical concept does not make the latter knowable. Omniscience,
omnipotence, infinitude and the like are not qualities humans can know. They may be metaphysically
‘necessary’, but remain unknowable none the less.72
Hence to Barth abstract discussion of God’s omnipotence is taboo: “God’s might is not a concept which
can be derived from cosmology, from the hierarchic design of a closed universe. The orientation has shifted to
the history of Jesus Christ as the crossing point where all lines come together and, above all, proceed from.”73
But even a Christ-centred theology is not immune to this criticism. Certainly we cannot expunge concepts of
infinitude from metaphysics or even from everyday language. We unavoidably deal with ideas like infinity and
human reason dwells on the unthinkable. But that does not mean that we have clarified or fathomed the meaning
of these words. As a rule they function at most symbolically.
God can take care of his creation, Van der Kooi74 avers, because he is mighty. From this he rightly
concludes: “In contemporary theology such a prominent position for the concept of might would be unthinkable.
Might stands for the power to make decisions regarding control, and therefore a God who has power can hardly
be exempted from responsibility for excesses or atrocities and suffering.” Nonetheless he proceeds to justify
Barth’s use of the term.
God’s omnipotence relates directly to his omnicausality (omni-governance). Barth does not specify what
he means by omnicausality, but he is unmistakably speaking of univocal or linear causality. The distinctions
identified in the scientific evolution of the term are not mentioned, neither would Barth have acknowledged
them, for that would embroil him in natural theology.
Barth is even reluctant to reflect logically on the notion of omnipotence, evidenced by his condemnation
of Aquinas’s attempts to do so.75 Aquinas maintained that, whatever its object, divine omnipotence had to be
absolutely possible, hence compatible with the concept of being. “Whatever comes under the concept of its

69
H. Berkhof, Christelijk Geloof, (Leiden: Callenbach, Nijkerk, 1973), 116.
70
This is akin to the notion of immanent transcendence: transcendence only makes experiential sense in terms of immanent reality (see
C.W. Du Toit, Shifting frontiers of transcendence in theology, philosophy and science, in HTS 67/1, Art #879, 10 pages, 2011).
71
Transcendence only makes experiential sense in terms of immanent reality (see Du Toit, Shifting frontiers).
72
By contrast the earthiness of revelation proposed by Berkhof (1973:53-55) is more appealing.
73
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 354.
74
Van der Kooi, As in a mirror, 354.
75
Barth, CD II/1, 534.
opposite, non-being, is as such absolutely impossible, and therefore cannot form the object of divine
omnipotence.”76 It is impossible for the almighty to act in a self-contradictory way or to do inherently
contradictory things in the creaturely world, such as turning a person into an animal, constructing a triangle
whose three angles do not equal two right angles or a circle whose radius differs from place to place – hence any
logical inconsistency. Barth half-heartedly concedes the point, then states: “We cannot accept the idea of an
absolutely possible or impossible by which even God’s omnipotence is to be measured. On the contrary, we
have to recognise that God’s omnipotence is the substance of what is possible. Necessarily, then, we dispute the
reasons offered by Thomas and his followers for rejecting the statement that even what is to be described as
absurd in creation is the object of God’s omnipotence.”77
I shall not dwell on Barth’s attempts to relate God’s omnipotence and omnicausality to the theodicy
problem and the fall. Suffice to say that he adopts the aforementioned strategy of linking these problems with
known, even pathos-filled terms, which fails to resolve the actual problems. The doctrine that God shares in
human suffering (theopaschitism, the suffering God) does not explain why an almighty and loving God permits
that suffering in the first place.

Does God’s omnipotence imply omnicausality?

Weber points out that Reformed theology sought to assign the human, creaturely will some autonomy, however
marginal. In that case God would not be the author of evil/sin (auctor mali/peccati).78 After all, it would add
nothing to his glory to be worshipped by mindless automatons. Neither could he have a genuine relationship
with humans unless they were free.
To Weber, then, God’s omnipotence does not imply omnicausality – hence the heading Allmacht, nicht
Allkausalität (1972:490). In fact, the very problem that God, being almighty, is responsible for human sin or the
existence of injustice, suffering and misfortune stems from the notion that he is omnicausal (causa causarum).79
Weber sees God and reality as two unequal parts of the same great ontological whole. It does not mean that God
has to be slotted into every facet of ontological (also read physical) reality. That fact that he is the symbolic
ground of all that exists does not make him part of that existence. Weber then makes a case – and here I fully
concur – for the autonomy, and distinctive nature of the creaturely world.80 He81 substantiates this by seeing the
causa causarum as a short cut to deism and pantheism. If God determines everything, everything is God
(pantheism); if he has programmed all reality, his presence is no longer required (deism).

Free nature?

To my mind the notion of an autopoietic natural world may be regarded as analogous with human freedom vis-
à-vis God. If God grants humans some freedom and autonomy, why should that be impossible in the case of
physical natural processes? It made sense to see him as the creator and sustainer of nature and its processes
when we were ignorant of their functioning. But science has now disclosed these and pinpointed their
autopoieticism. We also realise that they do not operate in accordance with our notion of causality. Hence the
only interpretation that makes sense is that natural processes are free from constant divine intervention. That
also absolves theology from the need to make God the omni-expositor of self-explanatory processes. Of course
nature is not free in the same way as humans are. Freedom in the evolution of physical and natural processes is
evident in the role of chance in the emergence of new entities. Here the possibility of successful mutations could
culminate in better adapted species. This freedom, then, depends on chance, so nature’s freedom vis-à-vis God
lies in the fact that its laws and processes follow their own course without arbitrary divine intervention. Besides,
it is not so easy to manipulate complex systems, as new insight into the role of causality showed.
Other explanations that account for events in mystical terms or ascribe them to God’s inscrutable will get
us no further.
Dingemans,82 too, affirms that God and nature are not the same. Natural disasters must not be identified
with or attributed to God. Famine and disease are not sent directly by him. In worldly events God is the
conditional rather than the executive power.83 The conditional aspect should be interpreted purely symbolically.
Explaining in how far God is the condition for all that exists is physically impossible, so the notion is symbolic.

76
Barth, CD II/1,534.
77
Barth, CD II/1, 534.
78
Weber, Grundlagen, 489.
79
Weber, Grundlagen, 490, puts it thus: “Der Gott, von dem in der eben umrissenen Problematik die Rede war, ist in seiner potentia,
voluntas und letzlich in seiner scientia die causa causarum.”.
80
“Ist es dann verwunderlich, dass auch die andere, die kreatürliche Seite in all ihrer Bedingtheid doch zugleich eben als diese andere
Seite gleichsam ihr Recht fordert?” (Weber, Grundlagen, 490).
81
Weber, Grundlagen, 490.
82
Dingemand, As in a mirror, 127.
83
Dingemans, As in a mirror, 159.
 We should approach it even more radically. Humans are involved in a threefold relationship: with God,
with the world and with themselves (coram Deo, mundo, meipso). But in his relationship with humans God
confronts the inexplicable mystery of reality along with humans and in dialogue with them. Incarnation means
that God shares our being-in-the-world and our exposure to immanence with its tragedy and rewards. God, our
friend, does not travel the road by our side knowing in at advance what hardships we will have to endure (and
moreover preordaining these!), only to comfort us after the event for consequences he could have prevented. As
our travelling companion he himself is caught by surprise when unforeseen events come our way and he
influences our handling of misfortunes so that, with hindsight, we can say (sometimes – not always) that
everything turned out for the best; that there was joy in that grief; that grace still triumphed; that the experience
of his nearness and love supported us. Such interpretations add a transcendent dimension to life – one that
enables us to get back on our feet against all odds and carry on in spite of what befell us.
The reason for citing these excerpts from theological reflection on divine omnipotence was to illustrate
that they function at most symbolically and don’t really add to our knowledge of God’s nature. The concept of
omnipotence has been used since the dawn of time because of an intuitive sense that power must be one that one
supreme power causes everything.

God the consequence

The term consequence84 can also be interpreted causally. God does not necessarily cause a situation, but humans
freely turn to him in moments of existential crisis. Hence his role in my life is not that of a causer of all that
happens, but of one who contemplates the consequences of events along with me and helps me find the most
appropriate response. The accent is not on God as the underlying source of misfortune but on God who involves
himself with the believer in order to make the best of things. It is when people have to endure poverty, injustice,
exploitation, sickness or misfortune that calling on God may be their sole option. The response never takes the
form of a miracle, but in retrospect the person who invoked God’s aid interprets the outcome as grace. Outsiders
may see this as subjective projection, but for those who have been through the mill it is their experience of
transcendence.

Résumé

I have provided some excerpts from the history of the concept of causality. What emerges is that criticism of
this concept in scientific circles, as well as that of philosophers and some theologians, still has to be digested
theologically. Theology is not a copycat of the sciences, but neither can it stubbornly hold on to ideas that are no
longer plausible. The progressive eradication of naive conceptions of causality in the sciences and their
replacement with new models (like emergence) can have fruitful parallels in theology. What I propose is to
legitimise theology’s position in its confrontation with the sciences by acknowledging that God respects the
freedom (read autopoieticsm) of nature no less than the freedom of human beings. That does not deprive him of
his sphere of influence, as is evident in religious experience. While that sphere cannot be demonstrated directly
at the level of nature, it could still function symbolically. That is expressed by the concept of God as a
consequence.

Works consulted

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Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Altmann, SL. 2002. Is nature supernatural? A philosophical exploration of science and nature. New York:
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Barth, K. 1957. Church dogmatics. The doctrine of God, II/1. Edinburgh: T&T Clark.
Berkhof, H. 1973. Christlijk geloof. Leiden: Callenbach, Nijkerk.
d'Aquili, EG. & Newberg, AB. 1999. The mystical mind: probing the biology of religious experience ,
Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press.
Dingemans, GDJ. 2000. De stem van de roepende. Kampen: Kok.
Du Toit, CW. 2007. Some Barthian perspectives on the present science-religion debate: what is the place of
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Du Toit CW. 2007. Viewed from the shoulders of God. Pretoria: Research Institue for Theology and Religion,
Unisa.

84
The term ‘consequence’ also occurs in John Cobb Junior’s design of his process theology. It is akin to the approach I outline. Cobb does
not see God as the creator of the world. His nature is consequent, which refers to the manner of his presence in our world (see
Dingemans, As in a mirror,129).
Du Toit, CW. 2011. Shifting frontiers of transcendence in theology, philosophy and science,
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Ehrenberg, W. 1977. Dice of the gods. London: University of London.
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