Mother Earth is often revered as a goddess in world mythology, but seldom recognized as also an important metaphor in the biblical theology of Old and New Testaments. The image of the earth as grieving mother is a recurrent theme, used in Scripture to symbolize the movement from tragedy and loss to the beginnings of hope. It is an image rich in implications for a theological approach to ecological questions, a search for human and sexual wholeness in a technological age, and a study of the relationship of biblical thought to the universal process of mythogenesis. More than this, however, it touches most deeply the human quest for the lost mother and the role of Christ's passion in the renewal of spiritual connectedness to the natural world.

This essay is an attempt to sketch a preliminary map of the emerging dialogue between spirituality and the contemporary literature of nature. This includes: (1) a consideration of their distinctive approaches to the mapping of the sacred landscape; (2) an exploration of some of the ambiguities and tensions within the literature of nature toward matters of religion; (3) an outline of recent developments within the discipline of spirituality that enable scholars in that field to respond more thoughtfully to questions raised by nature writers; (4) a description of the genres found in the burgeoning literature of nature writing and the themes that make it a useful resource and conversation partner for spirituality; (5) an evaluation of three prominent themes of contemporary nature writing—relationship, mystery, and moral responsibility—of particular importance for developing a contemporary spirituality of nature.

Ecology has become a religious concern, but its religious significance remains ambivalent, and politically it is open to exploitation by the right and the left. An ecological ethic needs to be related to the justice tradition with its correlative concepts of rights and responsibilities as these apply to “nature,” but it also needs an interreligious foundation. Buddhism and Christianity are able to make complementary contributions toward formulating an ecological ethic. “Justice” in the West has both biblical and Roman origins, but the Western concept of ius may also be correlated with the Indian concept of dharma as universal harmony and order. Justice may also be placed in the larger context of an ethic of care based on disinterested love of all beings and the transcendence of conflict. The concept of responsibility, however, remains central to the formulation of an ecological ethic and poses specific, though complementary, challenges to both Buddhist and Christian traditions.

After brief explanations of constructive postmodern science and its epistemology, and the most widely accepted cosmological theory, the Big Bang, this essay explores their potential for theological reflection on the Christian God of creation. Attention is given to the Christian doctrine creatio ex nihilo; concordism of it with the Big Bang is ruled out. The potential for consonance of postmodern Big Bang cosmology with the Christian God of creation is examined. In a revisionist move, an abstract, unipersonal theism is rejected as not true to Christian trinitarian revelation and therefore inappropriate for an exploration of consonance with Big Bang cosmology. Consonance of major elements of cosmic process, made intelligible by postmodern cosmology, with the exocentric Trinity “immanent to the world” is proposed.

The relation between science and religion can be difficult for Christian theologians. Some like Whitehead and Teilhard seek full integration of the two; others prefer to keep them at arm's length. Karl Rahner recommends separating them into distinct spheres, yet in practice the general conclusions of science have had a significant influence on his thought. This appears explicitly on the topic of the evolution of the soul from matter. The human soul is part of the order of creation. That order is part of the proper area of study of the natural sciences, according to Rahner. So he listens carefully to what evolutionary scientists say, and maintains an openness to the conclusions of evolutionary and cognitive sciences, in forming his ideas about the origin of the human soul. In doing this he is also implicitly relying on other conclusions developed by science over the last 400 years.

The “anthropic principle” has grown from scientific and philosophical reflection on the unlikely combination of circumstances needed, from the moment of the Big Bang through evolutionary history, to produce human life as we know it. This article describes the anthropic principle, in its “strong” and “weak” forms. It concludes with some thoughts on the possible theological implications of the anthropic discussion. From a theological perspective, the anthropic principle can be seen as part of the ongoing human effort to employ myth in the construction of a cosmology. It suggests both a sense of the design of the universe as well a the possible need for a Designer with some purpose and overall plan.

“Distinct but not separate” is a venerable formula whose origins go back to the Council of Chalcedon's confession of 451 that Jesus' humanity and divinity are each distinct realities, yet at the same time united in the one person of the Savior himself. Jesus' singular personhood (= “not separate”) protected the New Testament insight that God really united himself with all humans in their historical and earthly condition through the deeds and words of Jesus himself. God's utterly personal oneness with Jesus was the way in which God became adoptively one with the whole human family and world. But this could only be a true union between God and humans if neither was swallowed up in the other, or reduced to the other. Union (we might say communion as well) presupposes oneness and difference. And so Chalcedon speaks of Jesus' divinity and humanity as remaining distinct. By our adoption in grace through Jesus (Rm 8:14–17) we ourselves are not pantheistically swallowed up in God, but retain our distinctiveness as humans as well.