I was drawn inexorably towards pantheism as something of an inescapable truth. We consider ourselves “alive” because we possess a minimum level of complexity. We have reflexive, interlocking, adaptive systems, such as the respiratory, circulatory, and nervous systems. Yet our planet is the same. Climate and ecology react to one another in complex, adaptive ways. The earth changes and reacts to new stimuli; and that is only within our own planet, one small part of the cosmic forces of a universe held together with gravity, conflicting forces, and superstrings.

Biologists have traditionally identified five criteria for life:

1. Growth.
2. Metabolism; the consumption of matter for energy
3. Motion; either moving itself or internal motion
4. Reproduction
5. Response to stimuli

And of course, biologists know these criteria are not iron-clad. It classifies fire as “alive” and mules as not. But they may also classify our universe as alive. Consider:

1. The notion of the Big Bang was concieved when Edwin Hubble measured the red and blue spectrum shifts of nearby stars. He expected a random mix. Instead, he found that all objects had a red shift–everything was moving further apart. Even if the Big Bang is incorrect, the universe today is expanding–growing.
2. Matter is constantly being transformed into energy within the universe–and vice versa.
3. Space and time are internal characteristics of the universe, so it cannot “move,” since there is no space beyond it. However, it does have a great deal of internal motion.
4. Black holes may “cut off” parts of the universe, allowing it to reproduce asexually–like an aeomeba. Our own universe may not even be the first generation.
5. The forces that make up and define the universe are continually responsive to changing stimuli within it. Since there is truly nothing–in the mind-blowing, absolute sense of the word–beyond it, there is no external stimuli. However, its reaction to internal stimuli are as complex and adaptive as those of the human body.

With these criteria as scatter-shot as they are, though, the ultimate criterion for life comes down to a basic threshold of complexity. On that score, the status of the universe as “alive” is undeniable; as complex as our bodies are, they are all just tiny, insignificant points inside the overarching complexity of the universe. It is, literally, all the complexity in the world.

If the universe is alive, of course, the question remains as to whether or not it is intelligent or aware. Here, all pretense of scientific inquiry gives way to rampant speculation–and faith. After all, every major religion contains some pantheistic kernel. And if we are not aware of such a cosmic intelligence, what of it? If the cells of your body are not aware of your current incredulity, then why would you be any more aware of the universe’s thoughts?

The most pivotal verse of the Torah is the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:4). It is worn in the teffilin on the forehead and hand, it is recited in services: “Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad,” commonly translated as “Hear, O Israel, the Lord thy G-d, the Lord is One.” But Biblical Hebrew is a very nuanced, subtle language. It has an incredibly small vocabulary, so nearly all words have multiple meanings. It is almost impossible to speak Biblical Hebrew without speaking in metaphors. The Shema may just as easily be translated as, “Hear, O Israel, G-d and the gods are One G-d.” This harkens to the monotheism of the Egyptian pharoah Akhenaton and the Heliopolitan cult of Ra, and why not? Psalm 104 is almost certainly based on the Hymn to Aten, and according to David Rohl’s revised chronology, the “pharoah” of Exodus was likely the “heretic king,” Akhenaten. In the Heliopolitan cult, and to a lesser extent in the Atenist cult, the other, “false” gods were–as in Hinduism–aspects of a single godhead, in this case, the sun god Ra, or Aten. Much of the Torah speaks to this belief, and calls the Hebrews to bypass the various forms, visages and aspects of the one god, and worship him in his true form. Yet this also lays the groundwork of a single god who appears in a myriad of forms–and very often, animal forms, or natural forces. Ra can be an eagle or a beetle; Set can be a sandstorm. If they are but aspects of a single god, then that god can be seen in an eagle, or a beetle, or a sandstorm….

In the first century, Philo of Alexandria attempted to reconcile Jewish belief and Greek philosophy. He embraced the Stoic concept of the Logos–itself a very pantheistic concept. For Philo, there was G-d and the Logos, Creator and Created. Essentially, then, Philo posits two gods. I agree with Philo for the most part, but with an application of Okham’s Razor. The principle of non-multiplication of entities demands that Philo’s theory be simplified to pantheism.

The author of the Gospel of John seems to agree with me. That gospel begins with, “In the beginning was the Logos, and the Logos was with G-d, and the Logos was G-d. He was with G-d in the beginning.” Later (1:14), the gospel reads, “The Logos became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” John identifies Jesus as the manifestation of the Stoics’ pantheistic spirit, the Logos. Of all the canonical gospels, none stress this divine nature of Jesus as much as John. Three times in that text, Jesus says “I am in the Father, and the Father is in me.” (10:38, 14:10, and 14:20) This is usually taken to indicate the unity of the Trinity–that Jesus and his divine father are inseperably bound, the same entity. Yet, the final occurence of this triad of verses follows a common formula for the time. Often, when something is repeated three times like this, the third iteration expands, revealing the full “mystery,” as it does in John 14:20: ” On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. ” If the previous two iterations indicated that Jesus and G-d were one, how can we deny the pantheistic implications of the third and final form, where Jesus claims the same relationship with us as he has with his Father? And if Jesus and his Father are inseperable, and we are all inseperable from Jesus, then the universe itself has become a part of G-d, a living thing.

In Atman and Brahman, Hinduism achieves a blatant pantheism that is unique among the major world religions. Even the elegant, simple monotheism of Islam finds pantheistic expression in Sufism. In fact, the unanimity of nearly all mystics across time and space is staggering, in their united, unshakable belief in a pantheistic universe of which every person is a unique expression–just like those aspects of the gods found in Hinduism and the Heliopolitan cult.

It is an incredibly rare event when one finds a moment of consilience between science and myth, where the intuition of the human spirit is reinforced by rigorous, empirical examination. When it happens–when the soul and the mind work in harmony–humanity achieves its greatest heights. Just ask Friedrich August Kekule. A million years of human dreams and myths have pointed towards pantheism; now, our most advanced science suggests the distinct possibility they were right.

When the universe speaks with such resounding consistency, I have learned to listen. That is why I am a pantheist.