O blessed fault; an evolutionary reflection on original sin
Neil Vaney
Introduction
Not long after the appearance of The Catechism of the Catholic Church (1992) scholars made nuanced calls on its contents. Some sections were seen as a happy synthesis of tradition and new insights; others were regarded more as summaries of tradition. The coverage of original sin came very much into the latter category. It was as if the writers looked at all the developing insights in this area, saw them as too difficult to locate in a new synthesis so simply summarised what had come out of the Council of Trent.
The last sixty years, however, have produced so much knowledge that can no longer be ignored that a new synthesis is needed. This is not simply to vindicate the traditional sense of Catholic belief but even more to make it a strong and useful instrument for catechists and apologists in explaining the state of contemporary society. A brief list of such advances would include the findings from the mapping of the human genome, the similarities and differences between humans and the great apes emerging from primatology; our new vision of the role of climate changes in world history and how these link to the numerous hominids now extinct (and how homo sapiens very likely came near to extinction about 70,000 years ago); finally, but far from least, the crucial document “The Interpretation of the Bible in the Church” (1994) from the Pontifical Biblical Commission. This document marks a definitive acceptance not merely of the very diverse literary genres of the Bible but also how these must be read in the light of the author’s intention and cultural situation. Many scholars would now accept that the same criteria should also be applied to historical documents such as the decrees of the Council of Trent.
This essay is a modest attempt to begin such a study of original sin
A. Beginning From Intimate Relationships
My project begins with a study of the work of two very different writers, Harville Hendrix and Rene Girard. Both deal with anthropology, Hendrix in the field of marriage relationships and Girard in social and cultural anthropology. The former is a popular writer working out of personal narratives, the latter a more academic and controversial figure whose theories embrace literary criticism as well as social and political theory.
Perhaps Hendrix’s central work is Getting the Love You Want: a Guide for Couples (Simon and Schuster, London, 2005). His central theme is stated very succinctly in his preface:
We are born in relationship, we are wounded in relationship, and we can be healed in relationship. Indeed, we cannot be fully healed outside of a relationship. (xix)
After the break-up of his first marriage, Hendrix, a committed Christian, wanted to uncover the dynamics of this failure. His theory arose out of interviews with hundreds of couples. The imago therapy which has arisen from this research has restored and reinvigorated many failing marriages.
The first and more theoretical part of his work examines why couples fall in love. Using modern knowledge of the different sections of the brain he explains how many of our key childhood reactions such as separation, abandonment and betrayal are stored in the primitive areas of the brain, not accessible by conscious effort. The sense of total oneness that we felt with our mothers also remains a profound yearning despite the many knocks it endured as we matured into separate identities. Inevitably we are subject to hurtful and repressive pressures which we strive to contain, so fragmenting our personality into disconnected parts: a lost self, shaped out of society’s demands, a false self – the face we show to the world – and the disowned self, negative parts of our false self which others have found objectionable so we have disowned them.
According to Hendrix’ s research lovers, when choosing a life partner, unconsciously seek someone carrying both negative and positive characteristics of their caregivers, especially the former. This is a reparative instinct, an attempt to reconnect with our lost selves by linking up with a partner bearing similar defects. Unconsciously we create an image (imago) of the perfect partner to bring us back to wholeness. This helps to account for the rosy glow of romance when we see our beloved as the one who meets our needs perfectly and renews our energies.
As the deeper intimacy of marriage develops, however, love seems to cool and anxieties grow. First we notice that our partners have the same negative characteristics as our parents, so stir up old wounds. Suppressed feelings well up, old childhood hurts are rekindled, and our words and behaviour become increasingly defensive. We try harder and harder to get our needs met, resorting to dishonest questions, nagging, even verbal or physical violence.
Reflecting theologically on this theory it is not difficult to see how it engages deeply with the Christian vision of humans (male and female) being together the image of God. Just as the persons of the Trinity reside totally in one another, somewhat similarly we do not have any identity apart from relationship.. God calls us to spiritual and emotional wholeness, but that cannot take place without becoming whole in relationship with others. It is the turning inwards in self-possession and protection that is the basis of egotistic self-diminishment or sin.
B. The Role of Violence; the Work of Rene Girard
Girard’s initial field of research was cultural and social anthropology. Fascinated by the similar structures of violence that he encountered in widely diverse societies, he began to search for the roots of such behaviours. This led him back to the Bible and to rediscover his Catholicism. His work can be classified under three headings: mimesis, the scapegoating mechanism, and the role of religion and violence in societies and how this has been transformed by Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection.
Girard’s first insight focuses on how all infants learn by imitation, not merely of behaviours but also of affects or feelings. We discover love by being loved. This makes of learning a triangular process: the thing learned, the learner and the teacher. This seems to be hardwired in the human brain even before understanding, e.g. the way infants learn speech and language. This Girard labelled mimesis. It leads humans to imitate a desired figure and their qualities; such desires then shape the reactions of others, giving rise to rivalry because of competition for the loved one’s response. This process is holistic, spreading to every area of life. Here we see many points of contact with the work of Hendrix.
When entire societies become wracked by issues of such anger and hatred for which there are no obvious solutions, many resort to a type of ‘magical thinking’ seeking someone or some group to carry the blame. Often these figures are outsiders, marked by a diverse culture or refusal to integrate, such as the ‘witches’ executed in Salem in 1692, or the millions of Jews wiped out in the shoah. Such common action against a perceived enemy (scapegoating) often unites and strengthens a society e. g. Londoners during the blitz. When, as always happens, this sense of solidarity weakens and frictions begin to re-emerge, then societies may turn to ritual re-enactments to re-awaken feelings of union and deliverance, as in the apprentices’ marches in Northern Ireland. In our time scapegoating has become ever more subtle e. g. depicting all Islamic discontents as the fruit of terrorists and extremists.
Girard has also noted how often the state has co-opted religion to shore up its own authority. This often happens in time of war. Sometimes authority will condone violence to avoid what it sees as an even greater evil e.g. when Caiaphas proclaims that Jesus must die for the sake of the entire Jewish people (Jn 18.14). Because it is the winners who are the usual chroniclers of history, victorious states use such techniques to justify their violent acts. Girard, however, stresses that the Bible, especially the New Testament gospels, portray history from the viewpoint of the victim. Though Jesus is the scapegoat par excellence his free acceptance of death, refusal to retaliate, and subsequent resurrection, unveil the hidden nature of political violence, so undermining the power of the state.
Girard notes that dominant powers have become much more subtle, for instance in promoting liberation from stifling institutions such as the Church or the traditional family in the name of freedom. In the name of such freedom the state itself has become more oppressive e.g. the USA condoning the use of torture and the wholesale monitoring of social media
In conclusion, we can see that Girard, like Hendrix, sees relationship and its failures as the fundamental dynamic in shaping a human sense of completion and fulfilment. Moreover, he goes further in elucidating the mechanisms by which these dynamics shape society, morphing into political structures. In this way they shape family and clan relationships, national and international life – our way of existing in the world.
In the Garden of Eden story both Adam and Eve try to shift the blame for their refusal to trust in God onto another, in Eve’s case, onto her mate; on his part, onto a scheming third party. Cain goes even further in denying any responsibility for his own brother’s life. Here we see original sin at its fountainhead: blame and distance from the other. The work of both Hendrix and Girard shows how this same trend continues writ large in our own society.
C. Original Sin Seen through the Lens of the Hendrix and Girard Paradigms
Midwives point out how babies come into the world wet, hungry and angry. For this is the most traumatic journey they face till they meet death. In many ways the perils of birth are but a prelude to the fragility of life. What highlights such fragility is that humans have achieved their seeming domination over nature and other animal species by their mutual cooperation – yet other humans are also their most deadly foes. We stand in utter need and dread of one another.
It was St Augustine in his battle against the Pelagian heresy who linked original sin closely with sexuality. Reflecting on his own life and inability to use reason to control his sexual passions led him to see the vast bulk of humanity as a massa damnata, carrying not just the consequences of Adam’s sin but its guilt as well. This interpretation had a huge impact on medieval theology, right through to the Council of Trent. Here we seem to have a clear case of the need to draw upon the insight of the Biblical Commission in its 1994 document. Fifth century Western anthropology was marked by great pessimism, especially about the human body, which clearly coloured Augustine’s reading of scripture. Today popular culture has swung to the other extreme but we still need to acknowledge how much Augustine’s view of original sin was the fruit of his own life experience, reinforced by the dominant mood of his age.
In the light of what we now know of our biology and evolution, might it not be more helpful to see original sin in terms of our innate relationality? The more consistent temptation is surely our inclination to renege on such relationality, acting out of the belief that we can completely control our life and destiny by our own efforts. Conversely, assenting to our essential relationality means accepting that we came into being, are sustained, and will eventually perish in ways beyond our control; we are utterly contingent. We have been summoned from nothing; we receive all while meriting nothing.
The Adam and Eve story is clearly symbolic. We know there was there was much suffering and death, many proto-humans before the first homo sapiens came to a moment of moral choice. Scripture scholars point out that the Garden of Eden story is but one of a sequence of incidents (Cain and Abel, the great flood, the tower of Babel) pointing to growing resistance to God’s gift of life. Each one of these calamities results from a failure to trust, a desire to dominate and control others.
As Girard points out, blaming and scapegoating mechanisms also evolve, becoming more subtle over the ages. A clear instance appears in the development of attitudes in physical science. Early astronomers such as Galileo and Kepler saw their work as a deeper penetration of God’s knowledge, and elements of religious awe permeate their reflections. Such attitudes increasingly give way to motivations of power and control over nature, Francis Bacon being a clear example of such a stance. As we in modern nations have moved from an organic to a more organised society we have also seen an even deeper concentration on production, the assimilation of nature into human desires, and material gain as dominant themes. Accompanying this is a drive towards individualism, the prevailing of personal desires even against wider environmental health and conservation. As A. J. Conyers notes: “In modernity, the new version of original sin is that we are born into a human family. Salvation consists in the struggle to escape it.” (The Listening Heart, Baylor University Press, Texas, 2009, 104). Under the onslaught of deconstructionism all narratives of religion, patriotism and human solidarity have come under suspicion. What has taken their place is the domination of the market, around which so much work, recreation and aspirations for the good life now centre. The sole value now universally recognised is the value of exchange, seen concretely in commodifiable options, with arbitrary free choice the greatest good. All other value systems and beliefs are cast into the realm of personal choice and foible.
Religion itself is now subject to commodification. The dominant God of western culture is a therapeutic deity, all notions of truth or virtue becoming decidedly uncool. While decline in friendship and lasting marriages continues, there is still immense desire for healing and new life. Nowhere is this more evident than in the USA where the number of professional caregivers has risen a hundredfold since 1950. (Ross Douthat, Bad Religion, Free Press, NY, 2012, 240).
Contrary to this is a vision of every human being as an icon of God, one tiny facet of God’s unlimited beauty and goodness. Each of us is the result of God’s totally free creativity and playfulness in creation. Our endless variety is a masterpiece of creation, parallel to the way in which each gene is constructed from only four chemical bases repeated and connected in a myriad of combinations, modified and reshaped constantly over the course of evolution. It is in accepting and loving the other purely as other, not as an extension of our personal needs and fears, that freedom from original sin lies. This is precisely what we see in the life of Jesus Christ the sinless one. But with the coming of Christ, and through his power continually transmitted by the Holy Spirit there is a new creation in grace that is far greater than any putative original innocence. Whereas original sin is a turning away from relationality and creaturehood, assimilation in Christ becomes a celebration of relationality, a joyous acceptance of being a frail but deeply loved creature.
This insight could have many applications in moral fields. I point to just one bioethical issue – euthanasia. Two of the justifications for physician assisted suicide are freedom of choice and the growing cost of maintaining life for a rapidly ageing population. Based on the work of Hendrix and Girard, we might see elements of avoidance of responsibility and the domination of economic goods over human needs, hidden beneath such justifications. More positively, we might point to the time of dying as a privileged moment in which thanks for the gift of life and the healing of family rifts would be points of growth and new hope for families that still live on.
Dr Neil Vaney is a Marist priest who has specialised in moral theology. His doctoral research is in the areas of environmental ethics and the theology of nature. He is presently a resource person for pastoral and spirituality ministry in Hawkes Bay. He will be joining the leadership team of the Society of Mary in Wellington in 2014.