Ontogeny and Phylogeny

"Though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day."

Any of you who had to take biology may have had to memorize the phrase, "ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny," a pedantic mouthful which asserted that any individual organism repeated in its early development all the evolutionary stages of its species. In other words, a human fetus went from zygote to ichthyoid through reptilian to mammalian characteristics. As far as I know, the theory has been discredited among biologists. But I am fascinated with it because it is a good way to grasp the nature of God, sin, light, darkness, redemption, eschatology, and the nature of our world. It means that in order to comprehend those things, we must, in a fit of ontogenetic egocentrism, begin with ourselves.

So, here I go, wandering out on very thin ice, trying to describe Christian experience as generically as possible. It seems to me that every Christian finds within himself the light of Christ, in small or large measure. How that light gets there--through baptism, through adult conversion, through a hidden work of the Holy Spirit (already we are on the cusp of division)--the light is there, and it is instantly met by the darkness in us, and inner contention and warfare ensue. In fact, it increases as the Christian grows in wisdom and awareness, and joins himself more and more in battle for the side of light. We can call it gradual justification, sanctification, or divinization (I can hear the ice cracking), but we all know the battle.

It is also true, as we age, that we are not going to reach 100% victory in the struggle against flesh and sin before we die. Only a cataclysm can end the war. We call it death. Whether or not the victory that results from that cataclysm is instantaneous or progressive (a tip of the hat to purgatory) is beyond my purpose here. I am trying to describe what all Christians experience in common: new birth, conflict of light and darkness, a final cataclysm, and a fulfillment of God's promised salvation somewhere on the other side.

While "flesh" and "spirit" and not exact parallels to "body" and "soul" in the Scriptures, it is obvious in the Bible that the body must die before a future resurrection is possible. How are we to treat it in the meantime? Should it be cleaned and fed and kept in as much health as possible? Of course. Carrying the broken image of God, it is still to be nurtured and treated with respect until it is raised a "spiritual" body. My point here is not to probe the next world, but to suggest that we have a responsibility even to that which is passing away.

Back to our analogy from biology: The world began almost at once in darkness. Genesis describes cultures outside the gates of Eden founded on pride and power. God curtailed both by the curse of inarticulate speech. And in a hidden way He began to raise up a line of light (Melchizedek, Abraham, Jethro, Moses, etc) that culminated in the Light of Bethlehem. Since then the light has continued to grow, but the "darkness did not comprehend it." The phylogenic struggle is between the light, flickering at times and at other times flaring up, and the darkness that surrounds and attempts to cover it. The struggle can only end in the cataclysm of the final judgment.

Does this mean that those who bear the light have a right to curse those in darkness? No more than the Christian can mistreat or ignore his own mortal body. Those in the light carry a responsibility to relieve pain and oppression. In fact, "responsibility" is too negative a word. Joy or Delight would do better. They were on the face of Jesus in the midst of the ten lepers.

So much for the parallel of the individual Christian's life and the time span of the world. There remains one more question. How does this apply to the church? I really see no apparent difference. The church is full of light; in fact, carries the whole light of the world within herself. And the church, at least in her members, also walks in the body of flesh. This is most manifested in her divisions. The same arguments persist, and the same arguments are repeated. I have read several books lately that are updates of older and more profound works, repeating old arguments as if they were newborn, written for an audience which prefers shorter chapters with simpler words. Sometimes I think there has been no progress for 500 years, or 1000, if we are counting from the Great Schism.

To be fair, it is impossible to hear the Story and not interpret it. Even the four Gospel writers had different agendas for different audiences. But just as they are willing to read all four Gospels, the people of God need to literally hear another side of the Story. I also need to point out that the light of the church exists most intimately in local congregations, in personal witness and care, rather than in institutional methods. There is light shining in small places, and it seems to be spreading.

But I wonder, if we follow the ontogenetic pattern, if a cataclysm might break the power of division. I remember hearing a story once--perhaps apocryphal but full of truth--of a group of clergy of different traditions arrested and detained for torture and execution in a hostile (communist?) state. The common cell brought them closer together. One (assumed Protestant) suggested that they take Communion together. The high churchmen were horrified. "We can only say the mass over the relics of a saint or martyr!" The response: "Brothers, we are all martyrs here." They petitioned the guards for bread and wine. May we do so with less harsh motivation.

(PS: Some good reads. GK Chesterton's Life of Thomas Aquinas, Peter Leithart's Athananius, John Flavel's The Fountain of Life--a Puritan study of the atonement, and Keith Mathison's Given for You--a study of Calvin's doctrine of the Eucharist)