Jesus, Vol. CXXX, 1912.] To this it was replied
that, for Catholic theology, God is not merely the
source from which the river springs, God does not
develop Himself to a world but He causes it to appear
by a kind of creation quite different from that of
Bergson. Bergson’s God is not the God of
pantheism, because, for him, the Deity is immanent
in nature, not identifiable with it. A true account
of the Absolute would, for him, take the form of history.
Human history has a vital meaning for him. God
is not omnipotent; He is a fighter who takes sides.
He is not a “potter-God” with a clay
world. The world involves a limiting of God, and
theology has always found this its most difficult problem,
for the evils or defects against which the Creator
is waging war are evils and defects in a world of
His own creating. Speaking in 1914, at the Edinburgh
Philosophical Society, Bergson remarked that God might
be looked upon as “a Creator of creators.”
Such a view, more explicitly worked out, might bring
him into line with the religious attempt to reconcile
the divine action with our own work and freedom.
Our wills are ours, but in some mystic way religion
believes they may become His also, and that we may
be “fellow-labourers together with God.”
The religious view of the perfection of the Divine,
its omniscience and omnipotence, has always been hard
to reconcile with free will. Christian theology,
when based on the perfection of the Divine nature,
has always tended to be determinist. Indeed,
free will has been advocated rather as an explanation
of the presence of evil (our waywardness as in opposition
to the will of God) than as the privilege and necessary
endowment of a spiritual being, and so the really
orthodox religious mind has been forced to seek salvation
in self-surrender and has found consolation in reliance
on the “grace” or “active good will”
of God. Thus many theologians in an attempt to
reconcile this with human freedom speak mystically,
nevertheless confidently, of “the interaction
of Grace and Free-Will.”
The acceptance of Creative Evolution involves the
acceptance of a God who expresses Himself in creative
action called forth by changing situations. It
cannot regard Evolution as merely the unrolling in
time of the eternally complete, as in the view of
monistic idealism. We find in Bergson, however,
two hints which suggest that some vague idealistic
conception has been present to his mind. For instance,
in speaking of Time in relation to God, we find him
suggesting that “the whole of history might
be contained in a very short time for a consciousness
at a higher degree of tension than our own, which
should watch the development of humanity while contracting
it, so to speak, into the great phases of its evolution.”
[Footnote: Matter and Memory, p. 275 (Fr. p.
231).] This remark seems an echo of the words of the
old Hebrew poet:
“For a thousand
years in Thy sight
Are but as yesterday
when it is past,
And as a watch
in the night.”