Diving in the Pneumasphere II

This combination of reference points necessarily takes the Christian life out and beyond the ‘statusphere’. Physical life, which we share, is supported and implied by the biosphere. The discursive, cultural life implied by being a living human is described by the statusphere – and indeed, much of the biblical record is dedicated to dealing with the problems which arise when one places physical life in culturally charged settings. But the biblical record also deals with the interactions of physical and humano-cultural life with a higher sphere, that of the spiritual order. Coming from a Pentecostal worldview, one could look at much of Jesus’ earthly ministry as being dedicated to the declaration of a ‘pneumasphere’, a ‘third economy’ where the actions of physical and enculturated life take on new meanings because they are submitted to the will of God. Jesus calls this state ‘the Kingdom of God’. Like the biosphere, it is coextensive with the statusphere (ie., one must be physically alive to be a subject within the statusphere, and likewise, ‘it is given unto man to die once’ – one must also be physically and culturally located for the Kingdom of God to come among amongst us, ‘Your Kingdom come, Your Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.’ The Kingdom includes those who are disembodied, but their fates with regard to the Kingdom are not the business of those who are embodied – it is among those who are embodied participants of the three spheres that the Kingdom is coming, as opposed to having already come.) And like the statusphere, the function of the pneumasphere constrains the range and quality of choice and self-construction. Dogs struggle for priority in the barking order in order to maximize their chances of survival; humans struggle for priority in the statusphere, in order to maximize their opportunities for self-actualisation; seekers embrace disciplines in the pneumasphere because ultimate actualization is not actualization of the self, but of finding fulfillment of the self in the Other. In the statusphere, I judge my own liberty, in the pneumasphere, my liberty is judged by others: ‘Conscience, I say, not thine own, but of the other: for why is my liberty judged of another man's conscience?’ (1 Cor 10: 29) In the Christian view, we cannot simply choose to be like God. Humanness is embedded in bodies; Godlikeness is imbedded in Personhood – and Personhood implies otherness. We must choose Him who first chose us. In the statusphere we wrap who we are in the products of the biosphere so that who we are might be reflected in ways which are then reflected back to us. In the pneumasphere we are reflexively made by our experiences of projecting the ‘will of God in us” into the statusphere. We wrap ourselves in revealed knowledge, in prayer, in spiritual disciplines, song and sacred hymns, so that we are likewise reflexively made by the rules of that sphere. And thereby are we citizens of both, made by choice and desire of the things of God: “All things are lawful for me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but all things edify not.” (1 Cor 10: 23)

This is a nerve wracking thought both for non-Christians and for traditional churches with a memory. The possibility that there might be something more than 5^th Avenue or Double Bay is a subversive and radical thought to the single passport citizens of the statusphere. What if the universe was not simply about the pursuit of my own happiness? What if my ultimate happiness were wrapped in the joy and fulfillment of others, and constrained by the personhood of the Other? The fur coat and the Ferrari start to look a little pallid. Naturally, in the ‘age of conversion’ (Peter Berger’s term), the proponents and defenders of the ultimacy of the statusphere are happy to find a biophysical causation for spirituality. [1] On the other hand, the traditional churches were born in the struggle with Gnosticism, and in discussions over the nature of the ‘spiritual man’ who ascended (at least according to Basileides, a Syrian gnostic flourishing around 140 AD) through multiple worlds by the secret knowledge entrusted to the ‘pneumatoi’ alone. They might be getting a bit ‘antsy’ about the thought of a ‘pneumasphere’. Given that traditional churches have dismissed Pentecostalism in general on this sort of basis, and that many traditional churches have thereby often found it difficult to resist the ethos-setting power of the statusphere, the concern needs to be taken seriously, but without implying to it arbitrary power over the way we do theology. We are in the world, but not of it – and the tension of being and becoming has to be maintained, a tension which necessarily implies something beyond the posturing and backbiting of the novels of Thomas Wolfe.

Again, the conceptualization of such spheres are impositions of order, and like much ‘science’ and theology, are convenient metaphors. However, the development of such a metaphor helps engage with the experiential nature of Pentecostalism, and deal with a number of problems. It seems natural for many armchair theologians to posit a tripartite nature for human nature – spirit, soul, and flesh. Those theologians more enamoured of their desks than their armchairs suggest that this is not a good biblical solution – a bipartite nature is more acceptable. However, there is something in the nature of humans which is well expressed in a tripartite form – and if it is not in the order of the individual human to be tripartite in nature, then it is at least conceivable that the sense of ‘being in the middle’, of being between earth and sky, animal and God, is a framing statement that can be described by the metaphor of spheres. If we are not tripartite by nature, then we are by experience – a ‘little lower than the angels’, but called to dominion over the world under God. The mistake has, on the one hand, been to consider ‘nature’ an essence rather than a space where human nature is ‘under construction’, a space created by biology (such as Michael Gazzaniga’s talking left brain) and by spiritual aspiration. The biologization of all spiritual data, and the spiritualization of all biology, misses the point, which is the human construction site caught between the two processes. In that space, humans wrestle and glory in their biological nature, and dream dreams and see visions. The story of redemption is development of a ‘there’ in there, of arriving (like the servants in the parables of the talents) with more than just a dirty penny which has been buried in the ground.

It is a typical facet of Pentecostals that we claim that world is not just biology, and that man is not just ‘all talk’. We claim that the pneumasphere is part of the world-coming-to-be, the place in which empty words struggle towards personhood, where faith is the evidence of things unseen, the space into which words pitched ‘in My Name’ will come back with a voice which says, ‘Yes, and Amen’. After all, Jesus reminds us, ‘You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name.’ (John 15: 16) It is our experience that people who pray in faith are faithfully answered. It is our experience that the Spirit of God steps across the pneumasphere to empower His Church: ‘There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.’ (1 Cor 12: 4ff) It is the space in which the Spirit is poured out on all flesh, wherein young men dream dreams and old men see visions, where that which is insubstantial coalesces to be something eternal. It is where all claims are settled, where the sheep are separated from the goats, the appearance of religion and words, words, words from a faith tested ‘so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything’ (James 1) The incomplete man, the man who is designed to project the order he lacks, is the central posit of homo loquax. Where there is silence, words spin out to fill the gap, where there is nothing, the social self comes into being through reflexive creation and appropriation of cultural forms. James recognizes this in his discourse on saying and doing, and he has a solution: ‘the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it—he will be blessed in what he does.’ (James 1:25) Here is the narrow(ing) gate – man is a talking animal, but not all animals can talk; all men are genus homo loquax, but not all words are equal in their impact towards populating the Kingdom of Heaven. It is the man who makes himself of the stuff of the perfect law, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard but doing it, he will be blessed in what he does. In the social constructivist schema, homo sapiens gives way to homo loquax. In the Pentecostal worldview, homo loquax gives way to homo erit, the man who will be, because he becomes a participant of the life of He who is. Such a person is no longer incomplete, not becoming, not asking ‘how am I going?’, but is comfortable with what he or she is. I have known such people. They are indicators to me that there are still bridges into the pneumasphere from where I stand amid all the talk. Somewhere out there is a pool of becoming. I think I might go diving, to see what I might find of myself down there.

References:

Scura, Dorothy (ed.), Conversations with Tom Wolfe (Jackson: University Press of Mississippi, 1990)

http://media.nyas.org/content/podcasts/RW/GazzanigaWolfe.mp3

Gazzaniga, Michael, The Ethical Brain, New York: Dana Press, 2005.

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[1] Gazzaniga, The Ethical Brain: ‘[T]he concept of “spirit” activates the primary and fundamental category of “person,” and even though the concept will violate your general expectations of what a person is—made of biological material, for example—you will assume the spirit has qualities of a person.’

Comments

[Craig Bennett]

G'day Mark, Man that is a huge 2nd post to get through ;)

I will say up front that I am a believer in man being tripart and not bi, my main belief for that is because I am made in the image of God and God is tri, not bi.

In the Pentecostal worldview, homo loquax gives way to homo erit, the man who will be, because he becomes a participant of the life of He who is. Such a person is no longer incomplete, not becoming, not asking ‘how am I going?’, but is comfortable with what he or she is.

I would go even further then this and say "was made to be" I think when we get our head around that God has created good works for us to do, before we were even born - that we can relax in who we are knowing that we will do what God created us to do, and that God will direct our steps guiding us to do that which he wants us to do and will empower us, enable us, and provide for us all we need to fulfil his purposes in his creation.

[Shane Clifton]

mmm - you couldnt resist eh - "Those theologians more enamoured of their desks than their armchairs suggest that this is not a good biblical solution". Curious to critique theologians for, God forbid, using the Scriptures and Chritian tradition to reject tripart anthropology (and Craig - the suggestion that god is triune, therefore we are, mistakes the doctrine of the trinity and misreads genesis 1 - god is one substance three persons - i trust you do not thereby assume the same of us).

This aside, i enjoyed your almost poetic challenge for us to experience God - and in that experience to refuse to settle for mere biological, or shallow material, spheres of living. The move from the statusphere to the pneumasphere is both liberating and challenging. The latter, sadly, means that many of us settle for the lesser life. Thank God the spirit challenges us to rise beyond