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Between Existence and Annihilation

In the Broussard home, the family dinner table is a prime place for exciting theological and philosophical discussions. One question we often ponder is, “What would happen if God stopped thinking of us right now?” By now, my two oldest, ages eleven and eight, know the answer: “We would stop existing.” Such an answer gets a “Whoa!” from my five-year-old son.

Every serious student of natural theology (knowledge of God apart from divine Revelation) knows God is not only necessary for something to come into existence, he is necessary for something to remain in existence. To borrow from the philosopher Edward Feser, God “keeps it real.” This is called the doctrine of divine conversation.

Aquinas and De Ente et Essentia

St. Thomas Aquinas, in his work titled De Ente et Essentia (“On Being and Essence”), argues any being that does not have the act of existence by nature (essence)—what he calls a possible being (a being whose non existence is possible)—is a being that must receive its existence from something outside itself.

He asks, with respect to each possible being receiving and giving existence, whether a series could regress infinitely in an essentially ordered series. In such a series, each cause is at all times deriving its causal power from all the other causes (e.g., the stone is being moved by the stick which in turn is being moved by the hand).

This contrasts with an accidentally ordered series wherein the previous members of the series are not essential at all times for the other members to exercise their causal power (e.g., a father’s begetting powers are necessary for his son to come into existence, but they are not necessary for his son to exercise his own power to beget children when he chooses).

Concerning the possibility of an infinite regression in an essentially ordered series, Aquinas’s answer is in the negative (see sidebar p. xx). He concludes there must exist a First Cause whose essence is not distinct from its existence and thus does not derive its existence from something outside itself. Such a cause would be “first” not in sense of coming before the second, third, fourth, etc., but in the ontological sense—most fundamental in reality.

For Aquinas, the First Cause of the essentially ordered series of possible beings is ultimately responsible for the possible being’s continued existence. Without such a cause, Aquinas argues, the intermediary causes in the series would have no causal power, and thus the possible being would not exist—very much like how the apple would stop being cut if your hand stopped pushing the knife that was doing the cutting.

So, for Aquinas, the existence of the possible being is ultimately sustained by the causal power of the First Cause. Therefore, the First Cause, or God, is the continuous creator—the divine conserver of the possible being’s existence.

But since Aquinas speaks of intermediary causes in relation to giving and sustaining being (creation ex nihilo—the act of causing something to exist as a whole substance from nothing), he seems to suggest the First Cause, God, could use creatures, say an angel, as active agents in creation.

This brings up an interesting metaphysical question. Can God use instruments to create ex nihilo—the causing of sheer existence of a substance?

While Aquinas acknowledges God can use creatures as instruments for other types of causal activity, like carrying out his divine providence (Summa Theologiae I:22:3), he does not think God can use intermediaries when it comes to causing the being of something out of nothing, i.e., creation ex nihilo (Summa Theologiae I:45:5). Aquinas’s use of intermediate or instrumental causes in the argument is only for the sake of argument. He intends merely to show that even if there were hypothetically a series of instrumental causes of the existence of possible beings, then the series would have to terminate in a First Cause whose essence and existence are one and the same.

So why can’t God use intermediaries or instruments in the act of creation—the act of giving and sustaining the being of something?

I’ll give three reasons.

The limits of instruments

The first reason why God couldn’t use an instrument to create is due to the limits of instruments when considered in relation to creation ex nihilo. Remember, creation ex nihilo refers to causing the sheer existence of a substance in its entirety from nothing.

There are two ways in which one could speak of God using an instrument to create: a wide sense and a strict sense.

In the wide sense, a created cause could be an instrument for God’s creative activity inasmuch as the cause is a condition under which God intends to create, and the cause has some sort of relation to the effect. For example, parents are causal conditions for God’s act of creating a new human soul, and they have a relation to the effect—namely, a child. Although the parents have no action whatsoever in the creation of the soul, they do serve as conditions for God’s creative action and thus are creative instruments in the wide sense. Miracles would be another example of how creatures can be causal conditions for God’s creative activity and thus instruments of creation.

In the strict sense, however, it is not proper to speak of instrumental causes for creation. An instrument proper participates in the goal-oriented activity of a principal agent with some action proper to itself that disposes or changes something already existing to a desired effect. For example, a saw has power proper to itself to cut wood. But in order for it to be used as an instrument to bring about a circular piece of wood, a carpenter must direct it on already existing wood.

Consider a sculptor’s chisel he uses to make a marble statue. The chisel has power proper to itself, namely the potential to chip away marble when struck. But it can only do this and result in a statue if the sculptor directs it at marble that already exists.

So, the causal activity of instruments proper necessarily involves something that already exists. As the late British Jesuit philosopher Fr. Bernard Boedder writes: “[O]nly those effects can be wrought with the help of instruments which consist in the gradual change of some subject-matter, disposing it to a purpose” (Natural Theology 117).

Now, creation ex nihilo (causing the being of a substance) does not involve the change of a subject already existing. To will sheer existence is not to alter what already exists. In the language of Scholastics, it does not involve giving a new form to already existing matter (like the saw giving circularity to the wood) but is the causing of matter and form together as a whole substance (the circular piece of wood).

As such, it would not make sense to speak of using a saw to make a circular piece of wood ex nihilo. Whether we’re talking about the object coming into existence or remaining in existence, the saw would be useless.

Similarly, it doesn’t make sense to speak of God using a chisel to make a marble statue ex nihilo. If we consider the statue’s beginning, the form would be already informing the matter to make it a statue. If we consider the statue’s continued existence, the form, once again, would be already informing the matter as a statue. The chisel has no role to play in either scenario.

So, any hypothetical instrumental cause involved in the act of creation ex nihilo would be like the saw and the chisel, doing nothing and thus causing nothing. If no causal activity, then it wouldn’t be an instrumental cause.

Therefore, the idea that God could create ex nihilo using a finite creature as an instrumental cause proper is unreasonable.

Omnipotence required

Another reason why instrumental creation is untenable is because evoking being without antecedents of any kind requires omnipotence (infinite power), which is an incommunicable divine attribute (as opposed to communicable attributes such as knowledge, love, goodness, mercy, etc.).

Infinite power alone bridges infinite gaps

One argument in support of this stems from the Thomistic principle that the power of a transforming agent (or efficient cause) is proportioned to the distance between potentiality and act (don’t worry, the example below fleshes out the language). In other words, the less potential something has to be in act, the more power required in the transforming agent.

Consider a piece of marble. It has the potential to become a statue or a tombstone. I think it’s safe to say the statue would require greater intelligence and craftsmanship than the tombstone. Why? The answer is there is greater distance between the marble’s potential to become a statue and its actually being a statue than there is for the marble’s potential to become a tombstone and its actually being a tombstone. Put simply, the marble has less potential to become a statue than it does to become a tombstone. This is obvious, since the statue is much more complex.

Consider another example. The letters of the alphabet have the potential to be structured in the form of prosaic expressions of daily occurrences or in the form of Shakespeare’s tragedies, such as Hamlet and Macbeth. Which structure of letters requires more skill? I think it’s safe to say the latter. Why? Once again, there is greater distance between the potential of the words to become ordered as they are in Hamlet and Macbeth and actually being ordered that way than there is between the potential of the words being ordered according to common discourse and actually taking that form. In simple terms, the letters have less potential to take the form of Hamlet and Macbeth than they do to take the form of public discourse.

So the power of a transforming agent (or efficient cause) is proportioned to the distance between potentiality and actuality—the less potential something has to be in act, the more power is required in the transforming agent.

Now, in the doctrine of creation ex nihilo, the movement is not from some potentiality (even the smallest amount) to actuality, as in the examples above. It is a movement from no potentiality to actuality. Creation ex nihilo bridges the gap between non-being and being—both in the past when object A begins to exist and right here and now while object A continues to exist.

There can be no potential in a state of non-being. Potentiality only exists in an existing reality. Creation ex nihilo is not a case of drawing out potentialities already present in a thing, but rather causing a thing to exist entirely with its potentialities. Consequently, there is no potentiality in a state of non-being.

The distance between no potentiality and actuality—no potential to exist (non-being) and actual existence (being)—is infinite. To use Scholastic terminology, there is an infinite distance between the terminus a quo (point of origin) and the terminus ad quem (goal or destination).

What kind of power is required to cross the infinite gap between the terminus a quo—no potentiality (non-being)—and the terminus ad quem—actuality (being)? The answer is infinite (unlimited) power—omnipotence. Created beings can’t have such power, because by definition they are limited—if not by time, space, or matter, then by its way of existence, namely, its essence.

“But,” you may ask, “What about the changing of bread and wine into Jesus’ body and blood? Wouldn’t that constitute a counterexample of a finite creature, i.e., the priest, serving as an instrumental cause to bridge the infinite gap from the bread having no potential to become Jesus and it actually becoming Jesus?”

The quick answer is no. The bread and wine indeed have no potential to become Jesus’ body and blood, but they do have the potency to become Jesus’ body and blood under the accidents of bread and wine. Such potencies are necessary, because without them the Eucharist could not be confected.

Since there are potencies present in preexisting material things in the case of the bread and wine becoming Jesus’ body and blood (transubstantiation), it is not analogous to creation ex nihilo; thus it not does not serve as a counterexample to the impossibility of instrumental causation.

A universal effect requires universal cause

Another argument is based on the principle of proportionate causality. According to Aquinas, “effects must needs be proportionate to their causes and principles” (Summa Theologiae I-II:63;3) such that “whatever perfection exists in an effect must be found in the effective cause” (Summa Theologiae I:4;2)—if not formally, then either eminently or virtually. This is true since a thing cannot give what it does not have.

Now, what is the effect of creation ex nihilo? The answer is being, which is the most universal of effects. The effect is not merely being in this way (e.g., a statue) or that way (e.g., a circular piece of wood), but simply being itself—that which makes a substance actual.

If the effect of creation ex nihilo is simply being, the most universal of effects, and effects must be proportionate to their causes, then the cause of being would have to be the most universal of causes, which is the One who is ipsum esse subsistens—Subsistent Being Itself, i.e., God.

Aquinas explains: “But among all the effects we can consider, the most universal is being itself. Therefore, this is the proper effect that is fitting for only the first and most universal cause, which is God” (Summa Theologiae, I:45:5).

In light of the two arguments above, I think it’s reasonable to conclude that God alone can give being, because such creative activity belongs to omnipotence, which cannot be had by any creature.

No causa sui allowed

The final reason for arguing against a limited being causing existence in the strict sense comes from the impossibility of a creature creating itself.

Consider that if a creature could give being to another creature, in the same way God causes being, then it would follow such a creature could cause its own being. To use the words of Aquinas, it would be causa sui—self-creating.

But this is an absurdity. For something to cause its own being, it would have exist and not exist in the same respect at the same place and time. This violates the principle of non-contradiction and thus cannot be true.

What about God? It seems the above line of argument would imply God could cause his own being and thus be subject to the same dilemma.

The problem is the objection conflates possible beings—beings who do not possess existence by nature and thus must receive it from a cause outside them—and God, who, as the First Cause, is a being whose essence is existence and thus does not receive existence from something outside him. Created beings receive existence. God is existence itself. Therefore, God is not subject to the problem of self-creation when speaking of his power to give being.

Conclusion

To bring this around to where we began, the truth that God alone can give being per se is the rationale behind the statement, “If God would stop thinking of you, you would snap out of existence.”

Think about it. You and I exist right now. This means right now we are receiving being. If God would stop willing our being, where would it come from? It couldn’t come from our nature or other created natures, since creatures can’t give being as such. Therefore, if God stopped willing our existence, we would have no existence—we would lapse into nothingness.

From this it follows the only thing that is between our existence and annihilation is God’s creative activity—causing us to be. I think that justifies a “Woah!” not just from my five-year-old son but from everyone.

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