| Is the Universe Designed?So successfully has this harmonization of Jerusalem and Athens to 
produce a doctrine of <!g>cosmology and/or creation that came together in “one 
universal sympathy” penetrated our understanding, indeed our very language, 
that when the second of our three Cosmic Questions is raised, “Is the universe 
designed?” it is almost automatic to associate it primarily with the tradition 
of Jerusalem. That happens regardless 
of how one answers it: in the negative, 
and even if one dismisses it (although <!g>Lucretius did not so much dismiss it as 
rule it out of court as unanswerable); or in the affirmative - giving either 
answer on either theological or philosophical or scientific grounds (or, more 
usually, on some combination of these, whether one admits it or not). A search of the <!g>Hebrew Bible for its own 
answer to this Cosmic Question, however, comes up with significantly fewer 
proof texts than might initially have seemed obvious. The immediate contexts of two of the most familiar such texts, 
which have often been cited in discussions of this question of design - the 
words of the Psalmist, “When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, 
the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained,” and the divine version of the Cosmic Question addressed as a summons to Job out 
of the whirlwind, “Where wast thou when I laid the foundations of the earth?”  - show that both passages are intended primarily not to propound an <!g>argument 
from design, as in the traditional proofs for the existence of God, but to point 
to the <!g>epistemological and <!g>ontological chasm between the Infinite and the 
finite, between our “know[ing] in part”  and Ultimate Mystery. Because the New Testament, by contrast with the Old, has Gentiles and 
nonbelievers in view as well as believers, it refers to design somewhat more 
often: in two appeals of Paul directly 
to the Greeks, arguing that God “left not himself without witness, in that he 
did good, and gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons,” and again, more familiarly, that “God that made the world and all things 
therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in temples 
made with hands. . . , though he be not far from every one of us: for in him we live and move and have our being: as certain also of your own poets have said, 
‘For we are also his offspring’“;  and, most familiarly of all, spoken not to 
the Greeks but about them, “The 
invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being 
understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead”  - although the phrase “from the creation of the worlds [apo tēs ktiseōs tou kosmou]” 
here probably does not mean “on the basis of 
the creation of the world,” as it has often been taken,  but “ever since the creation,” as 
all the significant twentieth-century English versions have rendered it: The Revised Standard Version; The New 
English Bible; The New Jerusalem Bible; New Revised Standard Version; The 
Revised English Bible. For a direct and explicit consideration of this second Cosmic Question, 
it is nevertheless necessary to turn first not to Jerusalem but to Athens, 
beginning, as one might expect, with the genius of the pre-Socratic natural 
philosophers. The brief but incisive 
chapter on “The Teleological Thinkers: 
Anaxagoras and Diogenes” in Werner Jaeger’s Gifford Lectures connects 
their <!g>metaphysics to their physics: 
The 
idea of this preconceived world-plan is quite worthy of the rational physics of 
the fifth century [<!g>B.C.E.]; it is peculiarly fitting in a period that ascribes 
decided significance to technē 
in all realms of being and even finds it present in nature itself. The mechanism of the creative vortical 
motion is the ingenious device by which Anaxagoras, like other of his 
contemporaries, tried to explain the formation of the world. The fact that he made the divine Mind guide 
the vortex in a specific direction gave his physics its new teleological 
aspect. That is what caught <!g>Plato’s 
attention. Despite such anticipations, however, Francis Cornford is correct in
concluding, on the basis of the contrast both with pre-Socratic philosophy and
with the cosmogonies of Homer and especially of Hesiod, that it was Plato in
the <!g>Timaeus who “introduced, for
the first time in Greek philosophy, the alternative scheme of creation by a divine
artificer, according to which the world is like a work of art designed with a
purpose.” According to Plato in the Timaeus, 
“the supreme originating principle of Becoming and the <!g>Cosmos [geneseōs kai kosmou . . . archēn
kyriōtatēn],” or, as he had called it a bit earlier, “the 
Cause wherefor He that constructed it constructed Becoming and the All,” could 
be stated this way: “He was good, and 
in him that is good no envy [phthonos] 
ariseth ever concerning anything; and being devoid of envy He desired that all 
should be, as far as possible, like unto Himself.” But this answer to the 
second of our three Cosmic Questions, “Is the universe designed?” was in turn 
based on the presupposition he had just formulated in the previous 
paragraph: “When the artificer [ho dēmiourgos] of any object, in 
forming its shape and quality, keeps his gaze fixed on that which is uniform, 
using a model of this kind, that object, executed in this way, must of 
necessity be beautiful [kalon].” But Plato also insisted, on the basis of 
this relation between the kalon 
model and the kalon created 
object, that “if so be that this Cosmos is beautiful [kalos] and its Constructor good [agathos], it is plain that he fixed his 
gaze on the Eternal [pros to aïdion].”  That was also why, as he said much later, 
relating goodness, beauty, proportionality, and design, “All that is good is 
beautiful, and the beautiful is not void of due measure [pān dē to agathon kalon, to de kalon ouk
ametron].”  Harking back to the pre-Socratic 
consideration of the relation between creation and technē, Plato argued in addition that although “the 
most of men” considered the empirical causes of empirical effects to be 
“primary causes,” they were actually only “auxiliary Causes [xynaitiai],” by comparison with this “Form 
of the Most Good [tēn tou aristou. . . 
idean].”  It is, nevertheless, more than slightly disingenuous to attach the 
credit (or, if you prefer, the blame) for our second Cosmic Question, “Is the 
universe designed?” so exclusively to Athens, and not to Jerusalem as 
well. For when God the Creator, in the 
<!g>Septuagint Genesis, completed one step of the creation after another, he saw 
that it was (in the key word of Timaeus) 
“kalon”; for good measure, the Septuagint even added one such “God saw that it was kalon” to the account of the creation of 
the firmament, where there is no corresponding statement in the Hebrew text.  Thus to become the comprehensive cosmogony 
it was to be in the form that it eventually acquired, Plato’s answer in the Timaeus, that this pattern for making 
things and model for creation, which he called “paradeigma,” was the design of which the cosmos was an 
image, which he called “eikōn”  - or even <!g>Aristotle’s version of causality and teleology - required a further 
clarification of the monotheistic problem. 
And that clarification came not from Athens but from Jerusalem, from the 
primal creed of Israel as confessed in the <!g>sacred formula of the Shema, “Hear, 
O Israel: The Lord our God is one 
Lord,”  and then from the elaboration and defense of monotheism in the opening words of 
the only truly ecumenical creed of Christendom, the Niceno-Constantinopolitan 
Creed of 381, “We believe in one God the Father all-powerful, maker of heaven 
and of earth, and of all things both seen and unseen.”  The generation of fourth-century Greek 
Christian thinkers who wrote that creed of 381 also systematized this 
transition “from tychē to telos.”  In the Latin West it was above all <!g>Augustine 
who brought together Athens and Jerusalem, cosmology and/or creation, into his 
own distinctive version of the answer to the second Cosmic Question, “Is the 
universe designed?” by setting forth an interpretation in which the divine 
design resembled a poem or psalm that preexists as an entity in my mind but 
assumed linear temporality when I recite it.  Contributed by: Dr. <!g>Jaroslav Pelikan |