From Process Studies, Vol. 4, No. 4, Winter 1974, pp. 252-262.
Text taken from
Religion-Online. When reading Felt’s
citations of Ford, the reader should bear in mind that the latter writer
had not yet developed his distinctive temporalizing of God’s activity
and “locating” it in the future, which he was to do in
Transforming Process
Theism.
Anthony Flood
July 6, 2009
The Temporality of Divine Freedom
James W. Felt, S.J.
“I will
love them freely, for my anger has turned from them.”
(Hosea
14:4.)
A chief
attraction of process philosophy for Christian thinkers has been its
ability to articulate in a new way the relationship of God to the world.
By contrast, traditional philosophy tends to emasculate texts like the
above, construing them as mere anthropomorphisms, since obviously God
cannot be described in emotional and temporal terms—or so the doctrine
goes, despite massive evidence of religious experience to the contrary.
Even in
process philosophy, however, skies are not all blue when it comes to
talking about God. There is a deep cleavage between those who agree with
Whitehead in describing God as a single actual entity, nontemporal in
his primordial nature and everlasting in his consequent nature (the
“entitative” view), and those who prefer with Charles Hartshorne to
regard God as a personally ordered temporal society of successive
occasions (the “societal” view). Though I shall speak in terms of the
entitative view, towards which I incline, what I have to say has nothing
to do with debating the above issue since it will apply equally well to
the societal view. I wish rather to call attention to a peculiar aspect
of one of the arguments used to support the latter view, since I think
it betrays an inadequacy in all current Whiteheadian views which has not
been appreciated.
Delwin
Brown, supporting the societal view, writes: “On the entitative view,
God is free but once (even if, as we shall consider later, ‘once’ is to
be construed in some unique nontemporal sense). This single evaluative
adjustment of possibility perma-nently fixes the character of God’s
consequent commerce with the world” (PS 2:145). He then proceeds to
argue that God’s primordial nature, thus understood, is like a computer
which once-for-all programs all God’s decisions in history. It follows
that even in his freedom God cannot be faithful, since “faithfulness”
entails adhering freely through time to one’s previous commitment, and
on this view God is “free but once,” not temporally free.
Lewis
S. Ford reviews the same general objection even more sharply:
If God
acts solely in terms of his primordial nature, is not everything simply
cut and dried, following inexorably from the implications of that
conceptual unity? This is an ancient problem: how does Leibniz’ God,
programmed to choose the best of all possible worlds, or even Aquinas’
God, whose will is assimilated to his reason, differ from a computer? (IPQ,
13:355)
Ford
retorts, however, that the objection fails to notice that God’s
primordial decision was not made at some time in the dim, dark past.
Rather, it is not made in time at all. It is nontemporal, hence
unrepeatable, but emerges in time insofar as it gradually acquires its
definition with respect to the world. What we find in the temporal world
is a burgeoning of God’s timeless free decision as seen from our
temporal perspective. Only if God’s primordial decision lay in time (in
the past), would Whitehead’s position be faced with the Leibnizian
difficulties.
Now
although Ford’s finely nuanced exposition may answer the objection as
Brown posed it, Whitehead’s position (and Ford’s and Brown’s, for that
matter) is vulnerable to a more fundamental objection latent beneath
Brown’s argument. For even if we grant that God’s free decision is
temporally emergent though intrinsically nontemporal, Whitehead seems to
grant, and Ford and Brown clearly do, that God’s freedom is solely the
freedom of his primordial envisagement. Brown writes: “On either view
[the entitative or the societal], . . . God’s freedom lies in his
primordial evaluation of possibility” (PS 2:145). I propose to show that
insofar as Whitehead holds this view, even implicitly, he reverts to a
Leibnizian position which fails to do justice to religious experience.1
I shall also suggest a way in which we can speak significantly of
a temporality of God’s freedom.
I
I have
said that Whitehead appears to hold that God’s freedom is solely the
freedom of his primordial envisagement. This may seem a hard saying,
since in the final chapter of Process and Reality he terms the
action of the consequent nature “judgment,” “tenderness,” and
“patience,” and that of the superjective nature “love” (PR 525, 532).
Nevertheless he also writes: “The perfection of God’s superjective aim,
derived from the completeness of his primordial nature, issues into the
character of his consequent nature” (PR 524). He even describes God’s
patience as “the overpowering rationality of his conceptual
harmonization” (PR 526). And he had already asserted that “the initial
phase of the ‘subjective aim’ “ of an actual occasion “is a direct
derivate from God’s primordial nature” (PR 104). Indeed, it seems clear
that in Process and Reality Whitehead considered initial aims to
be derived directly from the pure valuations of divine conceptual
feeling. But even if we accept with Cobb (CNT 155ff) and Ford (PPCT
292n9) the systematic extension of Whitehead’s position, whereby initial
aims mirror divine propositional feelings, thus involving also
the consequent nature, it remains true that the character (predicate) of
God’s propositional feelings toward a concrescing actual occasion is
just the emergent manifestation of the relevant aspects of his
nontemporal primordial nature. Indeed it cannot differ from it, given
that God’s subjective aim is supreme and that the primordial nature
constitutes the optimal adjustment of possibilities for value. It is
therefore inevitable that the form of God’s propositional feelings
should exactly mirror the conceptual valuations of his primordial
nature. Hence only in the constitution of his primordial nature is God
significantly free.
In
Ford’s analysis of Whitehead this point is quite explicit: “God’s
decision can only be nontemporal. . . . Further, it is only as
nontemporally actual that God can be prehended” (IPQ 13:369). Ford
speaks, it is true, of a divine “temporal freedom,” but this freedom
wholly derives from the divine nontemporal decision and thus amounts
only to the temporal emergence of a nontemporal freedom: “God’s temporal
freedom is exercised in his integrative and propositional activity,
where he fits to each actual world that gradation of pure
possibilities best suited to contribute to the maximum
intensity and harmony of his consequent physical experience” (IPQ
13:376; my emphasis). All the decisions of the consequent nature flow
from the primordial nature, and though the former does not fit the
present actual occasions into a ready-made pattern of the temporal
past (as Ford carefully points out: IPQ 13:356), yet “the weaving of
Cod’s physical feelings upon his primordial concepts (PR 524) amounts to
the emergence into time, as predicates of God’s propositional feelings,
of the very valuations of his nontemporal decision.
The
upshot of all this, and the trouble with it, first, is that it equates
the concrete with the abstract, identifying God’s decisions for concrete
particulars with his decisions for pure possibilities. Facts are graded
entirely according to their correspondence with a primordial ordering
among pure possibilities (even though the ordering be nontemporal and
the possibilities only potentially distinct from one another as
nontemporal). This implies that the concrete particular can be
exhaustively evaluated in terms of its forms of definiteness, although
Whitehead himself affirms that “each fact is more than its forms” (PR
30). Second, it identifies God’s self-creative subjectivity solely with
the constitution of his primordial nature, as Ford argues at length in
IPQ. Third, it implies that God does not love particulars as such, but
only the universal patterns ingredient within them. As Whitehead wrote
late in his life: “If you are enjoying a meal, and are conscious of
pleasure derived from apple-tart, it is the sort of taste that you
enjoy” (1:686). I submit, rather, that it is the tart that you enjoy,
although the tart with that sort of taste. And religious experience
testifies that it is individuals whom God loves, and that when he loves
a person he is not just loving that person’s characteristics.
To
return to the first and central difficulty, God’s primordial nature is
clearly a valuation of pure possibilities:
God’s
‘primordial nature’ is abstracted from his commerce with ‘particulars,’
and is therefore devoid of those ‘impure’ intellectual cogitations which
involve propositions. . . . It is God in abstraction, alone with
himself. (PR 50)
He, in
his primordial nature, is unmoved by love for this particular, or that
particular; for in this foundational process of creativity, there are no
preconstructed particulars. (PR 160)
His
unity of conceptual operations is a free creative act, untrammeled by
reference to any particular course of things. It is deflected neither by
love, nor by hatred, for what in fact comes to pass. The
particularities of the actual world presuppose it; while
it merely presupposes the general metaphysical character of
creative advance, of which it is the primordial exemplification. (PR
522; Whitehead’s emphasis)
Furthermore, the primordial nature—or rather, God considered only in his
primordial nature—is unconscious (PR 524). It is, then, these
unconscious valuations of pure conceptual possibilities which rise to
consciousness in God’s propositional feelings about the world. It is
necessary that this be so, for “God’s conceptual realization is nonsense
if thought of under the guise of a barren, eternal hypothesis. It is
God’s conceptual realization performing an effica-cious role in multiple
unifications of the universe” (PR 530). The predicates of God’s
intellectual feelings for real possibility simply reflect the pure
conceptual valuations of his primordial nature. As Ford explains it:
“God’s own inner subjective contribution to this temporal activity is
wholly derived from his nontem-poral activity. His conscious, temporal
decisions are all temporalizations of a single, unified, underlying
unconscious temporal decision” (IPQ 13:368; my emphasis.) As with
the apple-tart, then, God’s love for this particular occasion is really
his love for this sort of occasion inasmuch as the occasion
instantiates one of the abstract patterns valuated in the primordial
nature.
Now
this is Leibnizian, and the source of the trouble is that no provision
has been made for a dimension of divine freedom directed toward con-crete
individuals as such, a dimension of freedom which lies within the
“weaving” itself of God’s feelings for actual occasions.
Ford is correct in maintaining that on the occasion of God’s dealing
with particulars the appropriate aspects of his purely conceptual,
nontemporal decision come into being in time as the character of his
propositional feelings, but that cannot be the whole story of divine
freedom. It is not by reason of a nontemporal, unconscious adjustment of
pure conceptual valuations that God exclaims: “How can I give you up, O
Ephraim! How can I hand you over, O Israel! . . . My heart recoils
within me, my compassion grows warm and tender” (Hosea 11:8).
Furthermore, the almost exclusive emphasis which Whitehead normally lays
on the primordial nature seems doubtfully consistent with passages which
reflect his deepest insights. In the lyrical final chapter of Process
and Reality, a chapter he is said to have thought the best thing he
ever wrote, he says that it is “the perfected actuality [which he has
just identified not with the primordial but with the consequent nature]
which passes back into the temporal world and qualifies it” (PR 532).
Similarly, in the last section of Adventures of Ideas, having
spoken throughout of the primordial nature of God (in terms of the
supreme “Eros” of the Universe), Whitehead adds that the feeling of
Transcendence
requires for its understanding that we supplement the notion of the Eros
by including it in the concept of an Adventure in the Universe as One.
This adventure embraces all particular occasions but as an actual fact
stands beyond any one of them. . . . [It] includes among its components
all individual realities, each with the importance of the personal or
social fact to which it belongs. Such individual importance in the
components belongs to the essence of Beauty. . . .[It] requires the real
occasions of the advancing world each claiming its due share of
attention. (AI 380f)
II
How
then can we coherently ascribe a temporality to God’s freedom, beyond
the nontemporal constitu-tion of his primordial nature, so as to make
concrete entities, as such, the objects of God’s free response?
The
most obvious solution might seem to lie in adopting the societal view of
God, as Brown in fact recommends. Yet whatever other reasons we may have
for adopting that view, this cannot be a reason! For in this
respect the societal view is in the same predicament as the entitative.
True, on Brown’s view God continually and freely reconstitutes his
primor-dial nature in each successive divine occasion, but he always
reconstitutes it the same way. He could hardly do otherwise and still be
God, as Ford has pointed out (IPQ 13:374). More importantly, for the
societal view as well as for the entitative, the primor-dial nature is
an adjustment of pure conceptual possibilities, so that although in the
former view there is a temporality to its successive reconstitu-tion,
there is no temporality in its valuation. On neither view is the
primordial nature a divine decision regarding temporal particulars, and
in neither view is there allowance for a freedom of the divine decision
with regard to these particulars. Consequently, adopting the societal
view does nothing to solve our present problem.
If then
we need to look elsewhere in order to find room for temporality in
divine freedom, the tempta-tion is strong to furnish it by the simple
expedient of transferring a few responsibilities from the primordial to
the consequent nature. (We inevitably do this if we think of divine
temporal freedom as consisting in the same sort of valuations as
those of the primordial nature.) But how do we adjust this division of
labor—where do we draw the line? Vagueness can be avoided, of course, if
we go to the logical extreme of such a move, which would lie in
attributing to the consequent nature all valuations, reserving to
the primordial nature only the constitution of metaphysical possibility
and the subjective aim toward value realization in general. Then God’s
temporal decisions for particulars would in their everlastingness (on
the entitative view; in their objective immortality, on the societal
view) constitute the value norm for all subsequent time.
Such a
view would not be quite so absurd as might at first appear: the divine
temporal evaluations would seem to be no more arbitrary than those of
the constitution of the primordial nature in Whitehead’s view; and the
divine subjective aim toward the maximum of value intensity, together
with the property of everlastingness and the Categoreal Obligations
(constituted by the primordial nature) of Subjective Unity and
Subjective Harmony, would seem sufficient to insure the mutual coherence
of the growing series of divine temporal evaluations. Yet the idea must
be rejected as radically inconsistent with the heart of Whitehead’s
metaphysical insight, the identification of actuality with “something
that matters” (MT 161; cf. 149f, 159). There is no way of removing
valuations from the primordial nature, no way of divorcing sheer
possibility from possibility-for-value-realization. Similarly, it would
make no sense to think of a subjective aim at value realization in
complete abstraction from a hierarchy of valued possibilities.
We take
a more promising tack, however, if we consider that there is necessarily
a certain incommensurability between an actual entity and any
description of it in terms of eternal objects. That is, an actual entity
is not identified with its own forms of definiteness.
Each
fact is more than its forms, and each form ‘participates’ throughout the
world of facts. The definiteness of fact is due to its forms; but the
individual fact is a creature, and creativity is the ultimate behind all
forms, inexplicable by forms, and conditioned by its creatures. (PR 30).
An
actual entity cannot be described, even inadequately, by universals. (PR
76)
This is
true both of the actual occasion which is the object of God’s love and
of God himself in his love toward it.
Further, the free act, precisely as such, is not describable in terms of
forms. Bergson was the eloquent defender of this thesis in modern times
(TFW), and Whitehead accepts it when he agrees that creativity is
“inexplicable by forms.” The free act is not wholly describable
antecedently, in view of its conditions, nor consequently, as the
inevitable outcome of its conditions. It is itself the sole ultimate
reason for its own decision. This is in fact another way of putting
Whitehead’s ontological principle, granted that every actual entity
exercises at least some degree of freedom.
But
then it must follow that God’s particular affective response, his
yearning for value fulfillment for the world at any moment, is somehow
more than the realization within time of some limited aspect of his
primordial, nontemporal valuation. We need to describe a freedom
precisely in God’s response to particulars as such. This response
embodies the abstract value relations of the primordial nature, but
cannot simply be defined in terms of them.
“Freedom,” Bergson writes, “is the relation of the concrete self to the
act which it performs. This relation is indefinable, just because we
aide free. For we can analyze a thing, but not a process; we can
break up extensity, but not duration” (TFW 219). To attempt to define
freedom, to conceptualize it, would be (in modem terms) to commit a
category mistake. Yet though it cannot be defined, the free temporal act
of God’s particular satisfaction toward a particular can be described
in terms of its intensity. According to Whitehead: “A
subjective form has two factors, its qualitative pattern and its pattern
of intensive quantity. But these two factors of pattern cannot
wholly be considered in abstraction from each other” (PR 356; my
emphasis). Elsewhere Whitehead speaks of “quantitative feeling,” and of
“quantitative emo-tional intensity” (PR 177). Bergson would be unhappy
with this quantification of subjective states (TFW 70-74), and
Whitehead’s expressions may go too far, but this issue is not critical
for our present purposes. Bergson notwithstanding, it obviously makes
some kind of sense to speak of one emotional state as “more” or “less”
intense than another, even if this “more” be not strictly quantitative.
In a
passage worth pondering, Whitehead explains that the self-creative
contribution of the freedom of each actual entity consists precisely in
the subjective emphasis it lays upon the factors which are given it,
including its own purposes and subjective aim:
The
doctrine of the philosophy of organism is that, however far the sphere
of efficient causation be pushed in the determination of components of a
concrescence—its data, its emotions, its appreciations, its purposes,
its phases of subjective aim—beyond the deter-mination of these
components there always remains the final reaction of the
self-creative unity of the universe. This final reaction completes
the self-creative act by putting the decisive stamp of creative emphasis
upon the determinations of efficient cause. Each occa-sion exhibits
its measure of creative emphasis in proportion to its measure of
subjective intensity. The absolute standard of such intensity is that of
the primordial nature of God, which is neither great nor small because
it arises out of no actual world. (PR 75; my emphasis)
I take
it that the “self-creative unity of the universe” refers to the actual
entity insofar as it is a particular instance of creativity. I am less
clear on the sense of the last sentence but one, but I believe that
Whitehead means that the quantitative emotional intensity of the
entity’s satisfaction must of course be related to the intensity of its
drive toward value as furnished by its subjective aim. And the absolute
standard of such a drive toward value is the primordial nature of God.
Whitehead’s immediate reference to the primor-dial nature should not
distract us from applying the above description to the consequent
nature. Granted that the primordial nature constitutes God’s “free”
(though unconscious), nontemporal decision, yet as an actual entity he
is completed by the conscious, temporal, self-creative propositional
feelings he bears toward particular occasions. Why should they too not
be characterized as “putting the decisive stamp of creative emphasis
upon the determina-tions” received from the occasions of the actual
world?
This is
not to assert that in his consequent nature God adds any formal
determination to the valuations of the primordial nature, still less
that he in any way contradicts them. The contribution of his temporal
freedom does not lie in forms of definiteness but in emotional
intensity. This emotional intensity stands related to but is not
determined by the qualitative pattern established by the primordial
nature.
What I
mean is this, and this is the heart of the matter. In the entitative
view we can accept Ford’s analysis wherein, of God’s nontemporal
valuation of all pure possibility, those particular aspects which relate
to concrete particulars first come into being and are essentially
time-related, from our temporal point of view, in the propositional
feelings of the consequent nature. But this temporal coming into being
of an aspect of God’s nontemporal adjustment of possibility is itself
clothed with emotion, with greater or less intensity of feeling on God’s
part. This intensity of feeling lies precisely in the act itself whereby
God loves particular actual occasions. This act is free in the sense
that there is a certain incommensurability, hence absence of
determina-tion, between the act itself in its emotional intensity and
the conceptual adjustment of possibilities which it includes. This is
another way of affirming with Bergson that the free act, as such, is
both intrinsically unforeseeable and, even in retrospect, conceptually
indefinable. Granted, therefore, that God’s infinite conceptual
valuation of pure possibility may justly be termed “free” since it is
“limited by no actuality which it presupposes (PR 524), yet the temporal
integrative activity of his consequent nature, whereby he loves
particular occasions of the actual world, may also be called “free,”
though in a somewhat different sense.
To
affirm therefore a temporality of divine free-dom is not to multiply
divine acts beyond those already described in Ford’s analysis, but
merely to notice an overlooked dimension of freedom in the concrete
divine act wherein there also emerges the relevant aspect of God’s
nontemporal, free adjust-ment of pure value possibility. This dimension
of freedom consists in the spontaneous intensity of emotion by which
God’s propositional feelings toward particulars are clothed. Since this
view introduces no new divine acts, it furnishes no new argument in
favor of adopting the societal view of God. On the other hand,
mutatis mutandis it also fits the societal view, since, as we have
seen, that view too must allow for an aspect of the divine decision
regarding particulars which goes beyond pure conceptual valuation.
If we
use the above proposal to interpret religious experience we are able to
make sense of saying that although God loves only what is lovable, the
intensity of his love for this or that particular thing or person is a
matter of his free temporal activity. God took a people to himself and
loved them, not only because they had lovable qualities (and perhaps
unlovable ones as well), but because he chose to. That is, his heart in
fact went out to them, he loved them with a special intensity for which
no reason can be assigned other than the act itself whereby he loved
them. And in different temporal circumstances the intensity of God’s
feelings may vary: “I will love them freely, for my anger has turned
from them.”
Further, if we integrate this interpretation of divine temporal freedom
with God’s providence for the world, we notice a remarkable
result. In Whitehead’s view, of course, God acts in the world by loving
it:
For the
perfected actuality passes back into the temporal world, and qualifies
this world so that each temporal actuality includes it as an immediate
fact of relevant experience. . . . The action of the fourth phase is the
love of God for the world. It is the particular providence for
particular occasions. (PR 532)
In more
technical terms, this “inclusion as an immediate fact of relevant
experience” by each temporal actuality is the feeling by each
concrescing occasion of its own initial aim. The hybrid prehension of
God, not only in his primordial but in his consequent nature, in his
particular providence for particular things,” constitutes the
occasion’s feeling of its initial aim.
But the
actual occasion does not feel God purely in terms of universals—that is,
solely in terms of the forms of definiteness (hence the primordial
valuations) ingredient within God’s propositional feelings. Whitehead’s
remark is applicable: “Owing to the disastrous confusion, more
especially by Hume, of conceptual feelings with perceptual feelings, the
truism that we can only conceive in terms of universals has been
stretched to mean that we can only feel in terms of universals.
This is untrue” (PR 351; Whitehead’s emphasis). Furthermore,
White-head’s famous assertion that “in the real world it is more
important that a proposition be interesting than that it be true” (PR
395f) applies exactly here. The interest, the effective impact, which
the divine propositional feelings make on an actual occasion in
constituting its initial aim does not so much lie in their
correspondence to the abstract conceptual valuations of the primordial
nature as in the emotional intensity with which they are felt in
God’s consequent nature.
On
God’s own part, the function of his primordial valuations, when they
become real possibilities applicable to concrete occasions, is to evoke
emotional intensity within God’s own consequent nature:
It is
evident . . . that the primary function of theories is as a lure for
feeling, thereby providing immediacy of enjoyment and purpose.
Unfortunately theories, under their name of ‘propositions,’ have been
handed over to logicians, who have countenanced the doctrine that their
one function is to be judged as to their truth or falsehood. (PR 281)
And
again: “The main function of intellectual feelings is neither belief,
nor disbelief, nor even suspension of judgment. The main function of
these feelings is to heighten the emotional intensity accompanying the
valuations in the conceptual feelings involved . . .” (PR 416).
God is
effective in the world through the love that he pours back into it.
which is his “particular providence for particular occasions” (PR 532);
the “‘superjective’ nature of God is the character of the pragmatic
value of his specific satisfaction qualifying the transcendent
creativity in the various temporal instances” (PR 135). Also, what
Whitehead says about “physical purposes” seems quite applicable to this
“pragmatic value of his specific satisfaction”:
The
valuation according to the physical feeling endows the transcendent
creativity with the character of adversion, or of aversion. The
character of adversion secures the reproduction of the physical feeling,
as one element in the objectification of the subject beyond itself . . .
. . [A] physical feeling, whose valuation produces adversion, is thereby
an element with some force of persistence into the future beyond its own
subject. (PR 422)
III
In sum,
then, the penalty for neglecting to allow for a divine temporal freedom
beyond that of God’s primordial nature is to be required to grant, in
effect, that the timeless and the abstract adequately describe the
temporal and the concrete, even the concrete acts of divine love for
individuals.2 Such a view does not agree with the deliverance
of religious experience. God’s freedom is temporal as well--that is,
insofar as God relates himself freely to the things of the temporal
world precisely in their individuality. It lies in the spontaneous
intensity of God’s affection for the particulars of the temporal world.
To God’s freely constituted, pure conceptual valuations there is
coupled, as it were in another dimension, his free emotional response,
his love for individuals. God’s freedom is thus also temporal, not in
the sense that his free acts take time, but that they are directed
toward temporal occasions as such and cannot be adequately described
solely in terms of the primor-dial nature. God’s propositional feelings
toward parti-culars require the nontemporal conceptual valuations of his
primordial nature, but their emotional intensity is not a matter of
forms of definiteness or qualities. Further, it is this intensity of the
divine propositional feelings which most contributes to their
effectiveness in achieving the divine purpose in the world. All
relevant possibilities as conceptually felt in the primordial nature are
ingredient within God’s complex propositional feeling toward a
particular occasion, but only that will be most influential on the
occasion which is felt by God with the greatest emotional intensity. And
that intensity is not determined by either the primordial nature or the
actual world.
Charles
Hartshorne remarked not long ago that it is characteristic of
Whitehead’s God that he lands on both sides of all antitheses. Ford has
convincingly argued the importance of the nontemporal freedom of God’s
primordial nature. I wish to add that God’s freedom is also temporal as
well as nontemporal, and that his influence on the world, beyond his
free, nontemporal valuation of pure possibilities, lies in the emotional
intensity with which he freely loves the particulars of the world both
for what they are and for what they can become.
References
CNT—John
B. Cobb, Jr. A Christian Natural Theology. Philadelphia:
Westminster Press, 1965.
IPQ—Lewis
S. Ford. “The Non-Temporality of Whitehead’s God,” International
Philosophical Quarterly, 13/3 (September, 1973), 347-76.
PPCT—Delwin
Brown, Ralph E. James, Jr., and Gene Reeves, eds. Process Philosophy
and Christian Thought. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1971.
TFW—Henri
Bergson. Time and Free Will (original title: An Essay on the
Immediate Data of Consciousness). New York: Harper & Row, 1960
(original French edition published in 1888).
1.
“Immortality,” in Paul Arthur Schilpp, ed., The Philosophy of Alfred
North Whitehead. New York: Tudor Publishing Co., 1951, pp. 682-700.
Notes
1
This is equally true for Brown, who shares this view, though he
does not notice its pinch faith regard to divine faithfulness, since in
his societal view God’s primordial nature continually reconstitutes
itself in time.
2
This view resembles that of Leibniz insofar as Leibniz’s God was, as
Ford put it, “programmed to choose the best of all possible worlds,”
even down to the last detail. This is in virtue of the Principle of
Sufficient Reason, of a divine vision of all conceivable world
orders hierarchically valuated, and of the tacit but essential
rationalistic presupposition that ab-stract patterns adequately describe
the concrete. Thus for Leibniz, too, there can be no significant sense
to a temporality of divine freedom.
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