Excerpts From:
The Chrysalis Age: A Handbook for Spiritual and Global Transformation in the New Millennium
The Separation of
Humanity from Nature and the Divine through Religion and Science
It is important to look at the ways
our views of nature and the Kosmos have changed over time. By examining the way we have looked at the
world in the past, we can better reflect on how we view it now, and how we
might be able to see it in the future.
The theme of separation courses throughout human history. Just as myths of creation separate us from
the Divine, the birth of civilization served to
separate us for the first time from nature.
As we gathered into larger and larger settlements we drew further away
from the reality of the Earth. From
initial settlements like Catal Huyuk in what became modern day Turkey, to the
rise of city-states such as Sumer and Babylon, humans drew further away from
nature. These were the first cuts along
the cord connecting us to our primal selves and this separation brought
incredible changes. Cities demanded
bureaucracy, which in turn required a means of record keeping. In short order, spoken language was
transformed into writing and for the first time our interior thoughts could be
transmitted and preserved. The human
love affair with the written word flowered, engendering what would eventually
become a full-fledged retreat from the world of places and things into the
ephemeral land of ideas and concepts that constitute our minds. And while civilizations continued to rise and
fall for four thousand years, through the grace of, and often in spite of the
written word, it was not until the Italian Renaissance of the 1500’s that the
most significant separation occurred.
Though mythology and civilization had divided humanity from the Divine and nature, science soon began to sever the
ties between the universe and the Divine.
The universe in all of its mysterious glory had always, in nearly every
religion, been considered divine. All
this began to change as the Renaissance of Western Europe flowered into the Enlightenment. Again, written language was a large part of
the separation. Although originally
invented in China in 1041, Johannes Gutenberg’s invention of a movable type
printing press in 1450 revolutionized the transmission of information
throughout the continent. Books no
longer needed to be copied by hand, but could be produced with minimal effort
and expense. One of the first men to
take advantage of this new technology was Polish astronomer Nicolaus
Copernicus. In 1543, he published his
infamous On the Revolution of Heavenly
Bodies in which he proposed a heliocentric theory of the solar system. Ignoring the pre-scientific supposition of
Ptolemy and Aristotle, Copernicus relied on empirical observation to determine
that the planets of the solar system revolved around the sun, not the other way
around, as many Greek philosophers had reasoned. The dispute between science and religion took
its most dramatic turn with Italian priest and philosopher Giordano Bruno. His publication of On the Infinite Universe and Worlds in 1585 made him few friends
within the Church. The irony is that
Bruno believed the universe is Divine.
However, his insistence on its infinite nature, and his ideas about
sensory evidence being given more credence than scriptural writing, put him at
odds with the leaders of the Church.
After seven years of inquisition, he was burned at the stake in 1600,
becoming an instant martyr for the cause of rationality over mythology.
Well aware of Copernicus’ ideas when he built one of the first
telescopes, Italian mathematician Galileo Galilei published confirmations of
the heliocentric theory in 1610. By 1616
writings about the heliocentric theory were banned by Church edict, and Galileo
faced the Inquisition. Not wanting to
follow in Bruno’s fiery footsteps, Galileo wisely recanted his most
controversial ideas and was allowed to remain under house arrest until his
death. Two years later, in 1618
Johannes Kepler, a German astronomer, began publication of his mathematical
confirmations of the Copernican theory. Basing his calculations on the studied
observations of his mentor, Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe, Kepler succeeded in
showing that the planets did not move in a circular orbits as Aristotle had
deemed necessary, but instead moved around the sun in an elliptical
fashion.
Meanwhile, in England, the philosopher Francis Bacon was developing his ideas about the nature of
science. In 1620 he published his Novum Organum in which he declared that
science, and thus knowledge about the universe, should be based on strict
observation and careful experimentation.
Reacting to the tendency to displace scientific inquiry for religious
dogma, Bacon wrote, “Thus it happens that human knowledge, as we have it, is a
mere medley and ill-digested mass, made up of much credulity and much
accident...”[i] In 1637,
French philosopher Rene Descartes provided Bacon’s vision of science with the
perfect metaphor. Speaking of the human body, Descartes said, “I assume that
the body is nothing less than a statue or machine of clay…”[ii] In fact, Descartes envisioned the entire
universe as a giant mechanism, and each of its living and non-living
inhabitants as finely tuned mechanical devices that could be understood by
understanding their parts.
Some fifty years passed before the mathematician Sir Isaac Newton,
discovered how certain parts of the universe interacted with each other. The co-creator of calculus, (along with the
German mathematician and philosopher Gottfreid Wilhelm Leibniz- the man who
coined the phrase the perennial
philosophy,), Newton used Kelper’s mathematical and observational proofs of
the elliptical orbits of the planets to formulate his laws of gravity and
motion. Newton showed that not only
could the universe be comprehended, but more importantly, that events within it
could be predicted with accuracy.
Against this onslaught of rationality, the Western churches, Orthodox, Roman Catholic, and
Protestant alike, could no longer hold their privileged positions as
interpreters of the cosmos. Copernicus,
Galileo and Netwon led a revolution, fueled by Guttenberg’s printing press,
that would, within the relatively short span of four hundred years, completely
divest the universe of divinity, creating a Cartesian cosmos envisioned as a
splendorous machine, not quite infinite, but quite certainly knowable. Thenceforth
religion would only be allowed to discuss what could not be seen, while the
whole of the visible universe would become the empirical domain of
science. Science, of course, has little concern for
that which cannot be seen, or at least theoretically supposed with enough
mathematical imagination. Though all of the
men of science mentioned believed in a divine God, with the exception of Bruno,
they did not see the possibility of, nor the need for, a divine universe. Not surprisingly, in the course of the
centuries that followed, scientists and philosophers managed to erase even the
need for a God, a divine force, a cosmic creator. God, the cosmos, humanity, and the very idea
of divinity had all been dismantled and compartmentalized.
It is important to note that I am not
attempting to denigrate science or in any way deny its contribution to human
civilization. It is not that the
Cartesian/Newtonian worldview is incorrect, but that is incomplete. I am simply pointing out the obvious, namely
that science doesn’t have anything to say about some the most important aspects
of human existence. Science can tell you about pheromones and explain the
nuances of the maternal instinct, but it cannot quantify love. It can explain the birth of the cosmos,
exploding forth from an unimaginably non-existent point known as a singularity,
but it can’t give meaning to that birth.
Nor can it give meaning to the evolution of the human species, from a
single-celled organism in the primordial soup of Earth’s long distant past, to
a race of beings that is haphazardly changing the very language in which that
evolution was written. From Copernicus’
notion that the planets revolve around the Sun, to Darwin’s insight into our
intimate relation to all life, from wonders of Quantum physics unfolding in the
integrated circuit and the nightmare of nuclear release, to the
Frankenstein-like exploitation of the planet’s genetic treasures, science and
its doppelganger technology have changed not only the way we think about the
universe around us, but the universe within us as well.
[i] Francis Bacon, Novum
Organum. Quoted from The Philosophers of Science. Edited by Saxe
Commins and Robert N. Linscott ( New York: Random House, 1947), p. 129.
[ii] Rene Descartes, The Treatise on Man. Quoted from, Descartes Selections. Edited
by Ralph M Eaton. (New York: Scharles Scriber’s Sons), p. 350.