The struggle between space and time

During one of my regular trawls through ancient files on my computer, I came across this paper. I wrote it in the late 1990s just as I was beginning my postdoctoral research on understandings of temporality in contemporary physics and theology. It received an airing at a meeting of the Tyndale Fellowship’s Christian doctrine study group, but it has never been published.

Having re-read it, I must confess that I am now rather critical of it. I would no longer accept Tillich’s sharp opposition between space and time (not least, of course, because of their intimate interconnection in contemporary physics). He defines paganism as a spatially-dominated religion / spirituality, but he goes on portray Christianity in straightforward opposition to this – a mere negative image of paganism. In other words, he is in danger of replacing an idolatry of space with an idolatry of time. The triune Creator of all things is the Lord of both space and time, so ultimately there should be no struggle between them.

The Struggle Between Time and Space: Reflections with Paul Tillich

Introduction

True religion concerns itself with the givenness of the timeless. An idolatrous religion is one in which time is substituted for eternity either past time, in the form of a rigid tradition, or future time, in the form of Progress towards Utopia. And both are Molochs, both demand human sacrifice on an enormous scale. . . . it is only by deliberately paying our attention and our primary allegiance to eternity that we can prevent time from turning our lives into a pointless of diabolical foolery. (Huxley 1965, 265f)

Thus Aldous Huxley in his book Time Must Have a Stop. And, to make quite clear who he is getting at, consider this statement from The Perennial Philosophy:

In the West, the mystics went some way towards liberating Christianity from its unfortunate servitude to historic fact . . . From the writings of Eckhart, Tauler and Ruysbroeck, of Boehme, William Law and the Quakers, it would be possible to extract a spiritualised and universalised Christianity, whose narratives should refer, not to history as it was, or as someone afterwards thought it ought to be, but to ‘processes forever unfolded in the heart of man.’ But unfortunately the influence of the mystics was never powerful enough to bring about a radical Mahayanist revolution in the West. In spite of them, Christianity has remained a religion in which the pure Perennial Philosophy has been overlaid, now more, now less, by an idolatrous preoccupation with events and things in time – events and things regarded not merely as useful means, but as ends, intrinsically sacred and indeed divine. (Huxley 1958, 63f).

As one of the first and still one of the most influential spokesmen of the New Age, Huxley represents a major challenge to Christianity in contemporary western culture. He stands for a spirituality or mysticism which is not tied to particular historic events. He accuses Christianity with its insistence on the centrality of certain historic events of idolatry; an idolatry which has left us an unparalleled legacy of intolerance, persecution and genocide.

I cite Huxley by way of an historical introduction to the topic of this paper. In the past, I have made frequent use of one of Paul Tillich’s shorter works against the ‘Christian’ manifestations of this kind of universalized timeless spirituality. Since I am about to embark on a major research project in which our temporal experience is the central unifying theme, it seemed good to me to begin my reflections by exploring that paper a little more critically than previously.

The paper in question is ‘The Struggle Between Time and Space’, first published in 1959 as part of the section ‘Basic Consideration’ in his Theology of Culture. In it he draws a stark contrast between the Judaeo-Christian traditions and spatially dominated religions; a contrast which has interesting parallels with his categorization of philosophy into ontological and cosmological traditions.

Time and Space in Tension

We interpret our experience of space and time in terms of mutually dependent but competing forces. Elsewhere Tillich speaks of time and space in Kantian terms as some of the categories of finitude: the forms in which the mind grasps and shapes reality. This is not to suggest that time and space are purely subjective. Rather, it is to remind us that consciousness is inextricably bound up with time and space. As Genevieve Lloyd notes,

Time envelops my consciousness. Within it I come to know that and who I am; and my sense of its continued onward movement frames my anticipation of death. Time, beyond doubt, is independent of me. And yet this all-enveloping time, within which I come to exist, and which will assuredly continue without me, becomes elusive if I try to conceive it without any reference to consciousness. Does it not depend, if not on me, at least on the presence of some thought? It seems no less true that time is ‘in’ consciousness than that consciousness is ‘in’ it. Most certainly time does not depend on me. And yet it is something in which I, as consciousness, surely have some stake. (Lloyd 1993, 1).

Here Tillich contents himself with asserting the mutual dependence of space and time. This is a point already established rather clearly by Einstein. We cannot define one without making implicit assumptions about the other.

But this immediately forces us to ask how they are related. In the introduction to the paper, Tillich cites different interpretations from different dimensions of life.

At the physical level, time is directionless. Newtonian mechanics is time-symmetrical. Classical relativity theory treats time as a misunderstood spatial dimension. Time is entirely dominated by space.

This changes as we move from the physical realm to that in which life processes begin to operate. There is scope for confusion here since Tillich’s phenomenological approach to the dimensions of existence does not correspond to popular usage. Thus he speaks inorganic and organic realms but the latter includes processes which are more commonly classified as physical. For example, he regards stellar evolution as such a process.

What he stresses is the emergence of directionality (or, more properly, asymmetry) in time with the emergence of irreversibility. The precise level of complexity at which this occurs is less important than the fact of its occurrence. Nevertheless, our experience of time in this dimension remains under the dominance of space. He explains it thus,

The life-process cannot be reversed, but it can be repeated. Each individual life repeats the law of birth and death, of growth and decay. The direction of time is deprived of its power by the circular motion of continuous repetition. The circle, this most expressive symbol of the predominance of space, is not overcome in the realm of life. (Tillich 1959, 31)

For Tillich, the victory of time over space does not become possible until the emergence of historical experience. It is only as we see and interpret the world historically that we are able to break out of the vicious circle of growth and decay. Only then is genuine novelty possible.

The Gods of Space

The next stage in the argument begins with a definition of paganism as ‘the elevation of a special space to ultimate value and dignity’ (Tillich 1959, 31). Space here is to be understood more broadly than merely geographical location. In his Systematic Theology, he argues that the fundamental character of a spatial concept is ‘beside-otherness.’ Thus the definition includes the divinization of such things as blood and race, clan, tribe or family. He reminds a post-war audience, ‘We know how powerful the gods are who give ultimate dignity and value to a special race and to a special community of blood’ (Tillich 1959, 32).

His definition does not sound much like the popular understanding of paganism. For example, the anthropologist and neo-pagan Margot Adler offers the following definition: ‘I use Pagan to mean a member of a polytheistic nature religion’ (Adler 1986, 10). However, polytheism is an immediate corollary of Tillich’s definition since it implies a deity bound to a particular place or people over against other places and peoples.

Thus he relates modern nationalism to the re-emergence of a secularized polytheism with the weakening of Christian dominance in European culture: ‘Modern nationalism is the actual form in which space is ruling over time, in which polytheism is a daily reality’ (Tillich 1959, 33). This is a dangerously over-simplified assertion. The West African theologian Lamin Sanneh argues that the true root of much African nationalism was not polytheism, still less the impact of Enlightenment ideals. Rather, it was the translation of the Bible into local languages and dialects with the implied positive evaluation of their cultures that was responsible. Tillich himself admits that there is a legitimate place for a sense of national community. What he is opposing is its absolutization as, for example, in Nazism.

When a particular space is absolutized, not only must time be subservient to it but so also must all other spaces: ‘The god of one country struggles with the god of the other country, for every spatial god is imperialistic by his very character of being a god’ (Tillich 1959, 32).

By this reckoning it is the dominance of space over time rather than an idolatrous fascination with temporal events that underlies so much of the violence of which Aldous Huxley complained. Arguably this was one of the effects of the emergence of Christendom: the identification of the Church with a particular space and the implicit identification of God as the god of that space. Tillich does not make this point directly but he does present Protestantism as a protest against the spatialization of Christianity.

Existence under the dominance of space is tragic. Temporal experience is interpreted in cyclical terms. Thus there is no real change. There is nothing new under the sun. Given time, a Great Year, the stars will return to their present position in the heavens and the cycle will begin again. This is the ultimate in temporal democracy: there is no beginning, no end, no point in time which stands out as more important or more meaningful. All are equal and therefore equally meaningless.

Where is salvation to be found under such a regime? Certainly not in an historical event! If time is cyclical, salvation will not be found anywhere on the circumference of the circle. Rather it will be sought elsewhere, ‘at the still point of the turning world.’ Tillich suggests that a spatially dominated religion will lead inexorably to mysticism, that its adherents will take refuge in a non-spatial and atemporal spiritual realm. But, he points out,

Mysticism is no real escape from the predominance of space. It extinguishes time and space, but in so doing, it maintains the basic presupposition that time cannot create something entirely new, that everything in time is subject to the circle of birth and death, and that no new creature can arise. Therefore, salvation is beyond time, it is always independent of any stage of time. It is the eternal present above every temporal present. (Tillich 1959, 34)

A point which Tillich does not pick up is that such a mystical flight from temporality is implicitly a flight from finitude and, hence, creaturehood. If, as Tillich suggests, mysticism ‘is the most subtle form of denying history’, it is also the must subtle form of seeking to be like God.

Another point worth making relates to the intimate connection between consciousness and temporality. What are we to make of a finite consciousness detached from space and time? Is not the negation of time also the negation of consciousness? Tillich comments that ‘In the abyss of the Eternal One, of Atman–Brahman, of the Pure Nothing, of Nirvana, or whatever the names of this nameless one may be, all individual gods and their spaces disappear’ (Tillich 1959, 35). But so to does all individual consciousness: the droplet of Atman is reabsorbed into the ocean of Brahman. And Brahman cannot be self-aware without ceasing to be Brahman. It is only in a state of multiplicity that we can be aware of unity.

A corollary of this loss of personal identity in a timeless mystical experience is the transcendence or loss of personal relatedness. In such a state there are no others to whom I might relate. More generally relatedness entails communication and it is not clear to me that atemporal communication is a coherent concept.

I would also want to say, with John MacMurray, that time is the form of action. Inaction is the goal of the mystic who seeks to escape from time. Moral action will bind the would-be mystic to the wheel of life as surely as immoral. Paganism as defined by Tillich completely undercuts morality and justice.

The God of Time

Having explored some of the implications of the absolutization of particular spaces, Tillich turns to Abram’s abandonment of country, race and family in response to the call of God (Gn 12:1). The God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is not a god of space but a God who identifies himself with a promise of future fulfilment rather than a present reality. When God reveals himself to Moses he names himself as Yahweh, ‘I am’: a name which resists identification with a particular space. Eventually the Israelites build a temple in which to worship this God but they do not envisage it as God’s dwelling place. No space can contain this God. On the contrary, according to the vision of Isaiah, ‘the train of his robe filled the temple’ (Is 6:1).

A later biblical vision, that of St John, again presents God in temporal rather than spatial terms. For example, ‘“I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, “who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.”’ (Rev. 1:8).

Also relevant to this fundamental distinction between the Judaeo-Christian outlook and paganism are some words of Abraham Heschel. Commenting on God’s blessing of the Sabbath in Genesis 2:3, he says

There is no reference in the record of creation to any object in space that would be endowed with the quality of holiness.

This is a radical departure from accustomed religious thinking. The mythical mind would expect that, after heaven and earth have been established, God would create a holy place – a holy mountain or a holy spring – whereupon a sanctuary is to be established. Yet it seems as if to the Bible it is holiness in time, the Sabbath, which comes first. . . . It was only after the people had succumbed to the temptation of worshipping a thing, a golden calf, that the erection of a Tabernacle, of holiness in space, was commanded. . . . Time was hallowed by God; space, the Tabernacle, was consecrated by Moses. (Heschel 1951, 9f)

Tillich himself focusses on the prophetic tradition. The prophet pronounces the separation of God from His nation. Unlike the gods of space, the God of time is not dependent upon his people. Thus Yahweh may judge Israel; is able to destroy his people without himself being destroyed.

Gods of space are mutually limiting and competitive. By contrast, the God of time is not conditioned by any particular space. He is ‘exclusively God, unconditioned and unlimited by anything other than Himself’ (Tillich 1959, 32).

For Tillich, the crucial difference between the dominance of space and the dominance of time is the directionality of time. Under the dominance of space, time is meaningless: mere passage; the cycle of birth and death; nothing is new under the sun and all events are mere vanity. By contrast, when directionality becomes crucial to our interpretation of events we give them meaning; historical meaning. The tragic circle of space is opened out. History has a beginning, a direction and an end (a telos rather than a mere terminus). According to Tillich, ‘Time is fulfilled in history, and history is fulfilled in the universal Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of justice and peace’ (Tillich 1959, 37).

‘The God of time is the God of history’ (Tillich 1959, 37). But this must be universal history because its God is not limited by spatial concepts:

In Abraham all nations shall be blessed, all nations shall adore on Mount Zion, the suffering of the elected nation has saving power for all nations. The miracle of Pentecost overcomes the cleavage between the languages. In Christ, the cosmos, the universe is saved and united. (Tillich 1959, 37)

The universalism of faith in the God of history is essential to Tillich. It alone can provide the bedrock for genuine social justice. As I have pointed out, ahistorical mysticism is inherently amoral. Similarly, Tillich argues that less subtle forms of polytheism are inherently unjust:

The gods of space necessarily destroy justice. The unlimited claim of every spatial god unavoidably clashes with the unlimited claim of any other spatial god. The will to power of the one group cannot give justice to another group. (Tillich 1959, 38)

This has ecclesiological implications which Tillich outlines in a brief conclusion entitled ‘Time and Judaism’. The Church is called to be a community of time rather than of particular spaces. Thus, ‘The assembly of God . . . is the end of all religious nationalism and tribalism’ (Tillich 1959, 39). We are called to be a contradiction of all expressions of the gods of space, e.g., will to power, imperialism, injustice, racism, tragedy.

The Problem of Universal History

So far so good. But Tillich’s argument is not without its difficulties.

To begin with, his affirmation of universal history becomes problematic in the face of postmodernism’s ‘incredulity towards meta-narratives’ (Lyotard cited by Harvey 1990, 45). Are not all meta-narratives (including universal histories) either repressive or illusionary?

The acid of postmodernism’s hermeneutic of suspicion seeks to dissolve universal history into many local histories. But with local histories come local forms of justice and local rationalities. A local history is a history that is conditioned by a particular space. But how are these local histories to be related? Without something to relativize and, hence, to relate them the inevitable result must surely be fragmentation and conflict of the kind predicted by Tillich and celebrated by postmodernity. Thus it is tempting to characterize postmodernity as the re-emergence of the gods of space.

On the other hand, it is surely right to take seriously postmodern warnings about universal claims. All too often they are the illegitimate claims of local histories being pressed as part of a strategy to impose the god of one space upon another. By definition there can be only one legitimate universal history: the final interpretation (or judgment) of creation by the Lord of history.

However, it is not at all clear to me that this is Tillich’s understanding of history in the preceding.

The Lord of History: Detached or Involved?

The uneasiness I feel about Tillich’s approach has, I think, a good deal to do with his understanding of the relationship between history and its Lord.

Tillich’s God remains curiously detached from history. There is no incarnation in the orthodox sense since he explicitly warns that ‘the assertion that God is manifest in a personal life-process as a saving participant in the human predicament . . . is practically impossible to protect . . . from superstitious connotations’ (Tillich 1957, 94). Instead of incarnation we have interpretation: we perceive Jesus to be Christ for us. Tillich’s God is a philosophical abstraction.

By contrast, the Christian God is intimately involved in history as a participant as well as Lord. The traditional ways of designating God bear witness to this: the one who brought Israel out of Egypt; the one who raised Jesus Christ from the dead; etc.

Which Eternity?

For Tillich, time is a form of finite being. Therefore, God cannot be conditioned by time: God is eternal. But there are various ways of understanding eternity as Tillich himself makes clear. The paper which forms the backbone of these reflections may be interpreted as an attack on one of the options.

Tillich rightly rejects the eternity of timelessness or the eternity of escape as Carl Raschke calls it. This is the time-denying space-dominated eternity of the mystics described above. In an earlier work he cites the eternity of simultaneity as no more than a variation on this basic theme since ‘Simultaneity would erase the different modes of time; but time without modes is timelessness’ (Tillich 1951, 274).

Following Hegel, he also rejects the concept of eternity as everlasting time. If God were eternal in this sense he would, indeed, be subject to a superior power: that of infinite temporality. Thus he characterises it as ‘idolatry in the most refined sense’ (Tillich 1951, 275).

Tillich’s preferred option is the eternal now (nunc aeternum) because of the predominance of the present in temporal experience. However, two common interpretations of the eternal present relate it to the timelessness Tillich wishes to reject. It is not simultaneity nor is it the negation of past and future. The future is open but anticipated (and, therefore, governed) by God from the vantage point of the eternal present. In governing the future God also recreates the past. Thus Tillich says,

The creativity which leads into the future also transforms the past. If eternity is conceived in terms of creativity, the eternal includes past and future without absorbing their special character as modes of time. (Tillich 1951, 276)

But how does the eternal now relate to the existential now? For Tillich, it is the true source and goal of the existential now. He suggests the following diagram:

a curve which comes from above, moves down as well as ahead, reaches the deepest point of which is the nunc existentiale, the “existential now,” and returns in an analogous way to that from which it came, going ahead as well as going up. This curve can be drawn in every moment of experienced time, and it can also be seen as the diagram for temporality as a whole. It implies the creation of the temporal, the beginning of time, and the return of the temporal to the eternal, the end of time. But the end of time is not conceived in terms of a definite moment either in the past or in the future. Beginning from and ending in the eternal are not matters of a determinable moment in physical time but rather a process going on in every moment, as does the divine creation. There is always creation and consummation, beginning and end. (Tillich 1963, 449)

But there are difficulties even with this revision of the eternal now. The very concept of a present has become problematic in the light of relativity theory. Additionally, postmodern critiques of the ideal of self-presence raise questions about the interpretation of temporal experience which Tillich simply takes for granted. Furthermore the, admittedly fragmentary, account outlined above raises questions about the relationship of the eternal present to finite existence. The sole point of contact appears to be the existential now – not a moment in physical time but my present experience. One is left with the suspicion that the whole sophisticated edifice may reduce to nothing more than a way of affirming the significance of my temporal experience in the face of the very clear ambiguities of temporal experience.

By way of conclusion, it is worth noting that Tillich has overlooked at least two other types of eternity. Raschke calls these the eternity of beginnings and the eternity of endings. The former is the past-oriented source of social and cosmic order highlighted by Eliade in the myth of sacred beginnings. Typically, this roots the cycle of birth and death in the structure of eternity itself.

Finally, there is the eternity of endings: an eternity which lies beyond history as the fulfilment of history.

References

Adler, M 1986: Drawing Down the Moon: Witches, Druids, Goddess-Worshippers, and Other Pagans in America Today, revised edn (Boston: Beacon Press)

Harvey, D 1990: The Condition of Postmodernity: An Enquiry into the Origins of Cultural Change (Oxford: Blackwell)

Heschel, A 1951: The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man (New York: The Noonday Press, 1993)

Huxley, A 1946: The Perennial Philosophy (London: Fontana, 1958)

Huxley, A 1965: Time Must Have a Stop (New York: Harper & Row)

Lloyd, G 1993: Being in Time: Selves and narrators in philosophy and literature (London: Routledge)

Tillich, P 1951: Systematic Theology, Vol 1: Reason and Revelation, Being and God (London: SCM, 1978)

Tillich, P 1957: Systematic Theology, Vol 2: Existence and the Christ (London: SCM, 1978)

Tillich, P 1959: ‘The Struggle Between Time and Space’ in Theology of Culture (New York: Oxford UP, 1964), 30–39.

Tillich, P 1963: Systematic Theology, Vol 3: Life and the Spirit, History and the Kingdom of God (Welwyn: James Nisbet, 1964)