The life of Christian discipleship arising from the understanding of the God-world relationship and the nature of Christ takes different forms when viewed from the lens of each economic model. Individual rights and freedom from governmental intrusion are hallmarks of the neoclassical economic model, and solidarity and the common good are central themes in the ecological economic model. The views of the life of discipleship follow suit. “In the neoclassical model, the individual, freed from his or her sins by Christ, is expected to live a moral life, being generous to the poor and a good steward of the natural resources that we need . . . In the ecological model, human life is basically communal—sin is therefore a relational matter, being out of appropriate relations with God and neighbor (which includes non-human neighbors).”26
In short, each view offers a different vision of what constitutes “the abundant life.” While it is commonly associated with an individual’s luxurious lifestyle, the abundant life for McFague is the state in which all planetary life flourishes—“it is a vision of abundance that will include each and every creature, especially the most vulnerable and oppressed.”27
The Revitalization of the Image of the Six-Day Creation
At the outset of our study of Basil, Ambrose, and McFague, we posed a series of questions regarding the image of the six-day creation story. Can the image of the six-day creation still inform the theology, spirituality, and morality of a Christian community that no longer shares Basil and Ambrose’s understanding of the universe, their theory of the origins of species or their acceptance of the Mosaic authorship of the text? Can the six-day creation story still speak to Christians who are deeply troubled about the state of the environment and the role that humans have played in causing it? Is it possible to ground a theological position in Scripture, to critically engage the work of esteemed thinkers within the Christian tradition, and to respond in a way that is credible and meaningful to contemporary Christians? At first glance, given the many theological differences between Basil and Ambrose on the one hand and McFague on other, the prospects for revitalizing the image of the six-day creation seem dim. However, upon closer examination we discover a consensus in their thinking that makes it possible for us to forge several strategies that incorporate the theological insights of all three theologians.
This common ground centers on a cluster of artistic images concerning God, the world, and humanity. Ambrose praises the excellence of the “divine Artist and Craftsman” (I.6.22). Basil describes the world as “a work of art, set before all for contemplation, so that through it the wisdom of Him who created it should be known” (I.7). McFague observes, “Just as artists feel that they are embodied in their work, that who they are is expressed in their creations, so also God’s glory is reflected in each and every creature, from the mite to the whale, from the acorn to the mountain, and in each one of us human beings.”28 As McFague observes, the interpretive lens through which we view these three realities produces a different understanding of the interrelationship among them. Viewed aesthetically, the God who creates is the source of all beauty; the world becomes an artistic expression, and we humans are seen as its caretakers, or perhaps even apprentices who complete the work begun by the master.
Ambrose, Basil, and McFague all seek to engender in their audience an overwhelming sense of awe and gratitude when considering the beauty of the natural world. For example, Ambrose’s prose grows flowery when he considers the beauty of the sun. “It is true that it is the eye of the world, the joy of the day, the beauty of the heavens, the charm of nature and the most conspicuous object in creation. When you behold it, reflect on its Author. When you admire it, give praise to its Creator (IV.1.2). Basil likewise exhorts his listeners, “I want the marvel of creation to gain such complete acceptance from you that, wherever you may be found and whatever kind of plants you may chance upon, you may receive a clear reminder of the Creator” (V.2). McFague encourages a similar response when we consider that “love (and not indifference or malevolence) is at the heart of reality . . . The sanctus is our response: the deepest religious emotions are awe and thanksgiving. If God is not a being or even just being-itself, but reality as good, then our astonishment and gratitude knows no bounds.”29
As we have seen, Basil and Ambrose both speak of the natural world in terms of musical analogies. Basil describes a “general chorus of creation” that “harmoniously sings a hymn of praise to the Creator” (III.9). Given Ambrose’s reputation as “the father of hymnody,” it is not surprising that musical images abound in the Hexameron.30 In the worshipping community “we hear the voice of people singing in harmony the praises of God” (Ambrose, III.1.5). Nature itself lends its voice to the song of praise, from the sweet song of the nightingale to the summer serenade of the cicada. “How sweet is the chant from the tiny throat of a cicada! In the heart of midsummer ‘they rend the thickets’ with their songs. The greater the heat at midday, the more musical become their songs . . . ” (Ambrose, V.22.76).
The many dimensions of music provide a number of possible uses for the image in contemporary theology. Different facets of musical composition, performance, and enjoyment resonate with each of the four theological approaches surveyed earlier. Those favoring the path of orthodoxy would appreciate the theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar’s image of God’s revelation as a symphony. “In his revelation, God performs a symphony, and it is impossible to say which is richer: the seamless genius of his composition or the polyphonous orchestra of Creation that has prepared to play it.”31 This insight dovetails nicely with Basil’s vision of the Word of God moving throughout all of human history. “Consider the word of God moving through all creation, having begun at that time, active up to the present, and efficacious until the end, even to the consummation of the world” (IX. 2). The six-day creation is the opening movement in this divine symphony, and the natural world provides the instruments whose melodic sounds echo throughout time.
The liberal tradition, which regards religious statements as expressions of depth-experiences, sees in music the potent articulation of the yearnings of the human spirit. The civil rights leader Andrew Young relates the story of the time police had blocked protesters from marching to the Birmingham jail.
When we go about two blocks from the jail, the police had blocked the street with the dogs and the fire trucks. When we got there, they said, “You can’t go to the jail.” And so everybody got down on their knees and started praying. And when people are in that kind of situation, it’s not a verbal prayer, it’s more a moan. And when the emotional, scared, religious people start moaning, something happens. And something happened not only to us but to the police.
And somebody jumped up. A lady said, “God is with this movement. We’re going on to the jail.” And we started walking directly at the police and the dogs. And all of a sudden, the dogs weren’t barking, and we started singing, “I want Jesus to walk with me.” And when you get through and you looked back, you