The Catholic Church in the Quantum Age

In 1934, Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a French Jesuit priest both celebrated and critiqued for his efforts to synthesize Darwinian evolution and Catholic theology, wrote the following: 

“I believe the universe is an evolution; I believe evolution proceeds towards spirit; I believe spirit, in the human, completes itself in the personal; I believe the supreme personal is the Cosmic Christ.” 

Born 22 years after Charles Darwin’s articulation of natural selection in “On the Origin of Species,” De Chardin’s theological and scientific project sought to defend the Catholic faith amidst the brutal events of his day. This included the world wars as well as the emergence of quantum mechanics, evolution, satellite technology, radio, films, the atomic bomb, and many other technologies that radically changed the political and social realities of human beings. The overwhelming violence of the 19th and 20th centuries made many Catholics fear that religion was losing its importance, and strong resistance developed within the Church hierarchy to suppress these new understandings of reality—or to hopefully diminish their proliferation. 

De Chardin differed from many of his contemporaries in this respect, instead choosing to embrace these new technologies and scientific methodologies. Specifically, he was of the opinion that the Catholic Church and the divine reality of Jesus found itself strongly affirmed by these new theories. 

He argued in his magnum opus, “The Phenomenon of Man,” that the emerging ideas proved that the universe’s fundamental characteristics on a molecular level were primarily ordered to the emergence of homo sapiens, which in turn reflected the coming incarnation of the creator God in human form. Consequently, the periodic table, atomic theory, and evolution showed that the universe was inextricably linked together in a procession towards cosmic unity and perfection, which de Chardin described as the “Omega Point.” He saw this idea affirmed in Scripture, where Jesus is described as the one through whom all things were made, and as “the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last.” 

Relatedly, Pope St. John XXIII abetted the Second Vatican Council in 1962 by recognizing the unique challenges of the modern world and the Church’s need to promote an invigorated, prudential posture. Aggiornamento, the Italian word for “bringing up to date,” reflected the pope's desire for the Church to diversify the liturgy, grant stronger participation to laypeople, and promote interfaith dialogue. This pastoral posture was not and is not a betrayal of the Church’s unbreakable tradition, but is rather an embrace of the ever-present character of Christ in human affairs and humanity’s first and final end of beatitude. As Pope Benedict XVI would later argue, “Christianity must not be considered as ‘something of the past,’ nor must it be lived with our gaze ever turned back. Christianity is always new.”

Both John XXIII and de Chardin recognized that the natural world and the Church’s traditions are the products of Christ and are thereby indivisible. They also knew that an integral project for the Church in the 21st century and beyond would require engagement with these new ideas. God cannot contradict himself, and a robust defense of aggiornamento is necessary in every age as humanity participates in a divine ballad with God. If things like evolutionary theory and quantum mechanics are valid theories that can be understood through our God-given reason, the internal logic of the universe will further reflect his presence in all things. 

The thought of the late legal philosopher Ronald Dworkin is helpful here, given his proposition that the law coheres to its own internal logic. The same principle applies to how the Church can navigate the present proliferation of social media, biological modification, and artificial intelligence. 

Dworkin argued that the law is an empire and judges are its princes. It is essential for judges to make decisions only on the relevant facts of a case. For Dworkin, quibblings over the “original meaning” of the constitution are a moot point. It is far more important to recognize how the unique and emerging controversies that judges address are a growing organism alongside the law, which retains an internal logic judges can perceive with the use of reason and tradition.

For de Chardin and modern Catholics who embrace aggiornamento, Dworkin unwittingly provides an elegant articulation of Christ’s presence in scientific discovery and a model of how the Church can respond to new scientific insights. Indeed, the Church—as the bridegroom of Christ—is a divine princess within God’s empire based on divine law, which is internally consistent as well as scriptural, spiritual, ecclesiastical, cosmic, and jurisprudential. 

Given its responsibility and power, the Church must not supplant or constrict scientific investigation, but should serve as a gentling influence that helps order innovation to human flourishing while preventing its exploitation. As Catholics affirm the beauty of the natural world, the creativity of the human mind, and the fidelity of our Church to its divine mission, they must look with eyes of wonder toward the synthesis of these traits. As the psalmist wrote: “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky displays what his hands have made."

Alexander Walton is an honors graduate of Morehouse College, where he earned a Bachelor of Arts degree in Philosophy. He is currently a Master of Arts candidate at Yale Divinity School and the Yale Institute of Sacred Music.

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