Would that more process theologians had read the later Wittgenstein. His Philosophical Investigations shows us that the meaning of words is not confined to rigid definitions established by academic elites but is found in how words are used—and, I would add, felt—by those in the general public who speak them. Words take on different meanings relative to cultural, historical, and psychological contexts. This insight is crucial when considering theological terms like omnipotence and supernaturalism.
A Problem of Language, Not Just Theology
On the one hand, process theologians are right to be wary of traditional definitions of omnipotence and supernaturalism, especially when these terms have been used to justify authoritarian views of God as a coercive ruler or as an interventionist force that overrides the integrity of the natural world. The rejection of these ideas is understandable and, in many cases, necessary.
However, Wittgenstein reminds us that words do not have meaning in isolation; they derive meaning from their use in particular contexts. The assumption that omnipotence must always refer to coercive power—or that supernatural must always denote something that violates natural processes—fails to acknowledge the rich variety of ways these words function in human experience.
How People Actually Use These Words
Many people who speak of God’s omnipotence do not mean that God micromanages the universe or controls every outcome. Instead, they use the word omnipotence to express an unshakable faith in divine love—a force that sustains, guides, and transforms rather than dominates. By omnipotence, they mean what Pope Benedict XVI called "the omnipotence of love" (source) or what Thomas Oord calls amipotence. They mean what Pope Francis had in mind when he said:
Similarly, when some describe an event as supernatural, they are not necessarily making a metaphysical claim that it exists above or outside of nature. Rather, they are naming an experience of profound awe, wonder, or mystery—something that defies conventional explanation but feels deeply real.
When a grieving parent finds unexpected peace after prayer, they may describe it as supernatural. When a person feels a divine presence guiding them through uncertainty, they might call it the omnipotence of love. These words carry an existential weight that cannot be dismissed simply because they do not fit neatly into the philosophical categories process theologians prefer.
A More Mature Approach: Meeting People Where They Are
If process theologians were to take Wittgenstein’s later philosophy more seriously, they might recognize that their task is not merely to reject or redefine theological terms but to engage with how these words function in the hearts and minds of real people.
Instead of treating words like omnipotence and supernatural as irredeemable relics of an outdated theology, process theology could mature by learning to speak in the language people actually use. This means acknowledging the emotional and existential depth these words carry for many, rather than assuming that rejecting them is an intellectual virtue.
This does not mean that process theologians must adopt classical theism or abandon their commitments to relationality, creativity, and persuasion over coercion. Rather, it means recognizing that theological language is not a fixed system but a living practice—one that must remain open to evolution, dialogue, and the complexity of human experience.
A more mature process theology would not only clarify its own ideas but also listen carefully to the ways people already speak about divine power and presence. It would acknowledge that words like omnipotence and supernatural can hold meanings that align with, rather than contradict, a process-relational vision of God. And in doing so, it might find that it does not need to be so combative in rejecting traditional language, but instead can reclaim and reinterpret it in ways that resonate with those who seek a God whose power is love and whose presence is astonishing.
Would that more process theologians had read the later Wittgenstein. His Philosophical Investigations shows us that the meaning of words is not confined to rigid definitions established by academic elites but is found in how words are used—and, I would add, felt—by those in the general public who speak them. Words take on different meanings relative to cultural, historical, and psychological contexts. This insight is crucial when considering theological terms like omnipotence and supernaturalism.
A Problem of Language, Not Just Theology
On the one hand, process theologians are right to be wary of traditional definitions of omnipotence and supernaturalism, especially when these terms have been used to justify authoritarian views of God as a coercive ruler or as an interventionist force that overrides the integrity of the natural world. The rejection of these ideas is understandable and, in many cases, necessary.
However, Wittgenstein reminds us that words do not have meaning in isolation; they derive meaning from their use in particular contexts. The assumption that omnipotence must always refer to coercive power—or that supernatural must always denote something that violates natural processes—fails to acknowledge the rich variety of ways these words function in human experience.
How People Actually Use These Words
Many people who speak of God’s omnipotence do not mean that God micromanages the universe or controls every outcome. Instead, they use the word omnipotence to express an unshakable faith in divine love—a force that sustains, guides, and transforms rather than dominates. By omnipotence, they mean what Pope Benedict XVI called "the omnipotence of love" (source) or what Thomas Oord calls amipotence. They mean what Pope Francis had in mind when he said:
Similarly, when some describe an event as supernatural, they are not necessarily making a metaphysical claim that it exists above or outside of nature. Rather, they are naming an experience of profound awe, wonder, or mystery—something that defies conventional explanation but feels deeply real.
When a grieving parent finds unexpected peace after prayer, they may describe it as supernatural. When a person feels a divine presence guiding them through uncertainty, they might call it the omnipotence of love. These words carry an existential weight that cannot be dismissed simply because they do not fit neatly into the philosophical categories process theologians prefer.
A More Mature Approach: Meeting People Where They Are
If process theologians were to take Wittgenstein’s later philosophy more seriously, they might recognize that their task is not merely to reject or redefine theological terms but to engage with how these words function in the hearts and minds of real people.
Instead of treating words like omnipotence and supernatural as irredeemable relics of an outdated theology, process theology could mature by learning to speak in the language people actually use. This means acknowledging the emotional and existential depth these words carry for many, rather than assuming that rejecting them is an intellectual virtue.
This does not mean that process theologians must adopt classical theism or abandon their commitments to relationality, creativity, and persuasion over coercion. Rather, it means recognizing that theological language is not a fixed system but a living practice—one that must remain open to evolution, dialogue, and the complexity of human experience.
A more mature process theology would not only clarify its own ideas but also listen carefully to the ways people already speak about divine power and presence. It would acknowledge that words like omnipotence and supernatural can hold meanings that align with, rather than contradict, a process-relational vision of God. And in doing so, it might find that it does not need to be so combative in rejecting traditional language, but instead can reclaim and reinterpret it in ways that resonate with those who seek a God whose power is love and whose presence is astonishing.
The Omnipotence of Love
How can process theologians affirm omnipotence?
As noted above, they - we - can build upon Pope Benedict's idea, shared by Pope Francis, that divine power is an omnipotence of love - and Thomas Oord's idea that divine power is amipotent. Let the scholars debate the nuances; the key to recognize and emphasize divine power in this way. Here are some of the deeper and more existential meanings people often have in mind, all of which are compatible with, and enrich, a process point of view.
Trusting Surrender:
"No matter what happens in my life, I trust that God’s power is working for my good. Even in suffering, I am held in divine love."
Healing and Restoration:
"God’s power is the power to heal—not just my body, but my heart, my wounds, my brokenness. Love itself is the greatest force in the universe."
Guiding Presence:
"God is all-powerful because God never stops calling me toward what is beautiful, good, and true. No matter how lost I feel, I am never without direction."
Transformative Love:
"God’s power is not domination but transformation—the power to take even the worst things and weave them into something meaningful, something whole."
Unbreakable Compassion:
"If God is all-powerful, it means that nothing—not even death, despair, or my deepest failures—can separate me from the love that holds me in existence."
Hope Beyond the Present:
"God’s power is not about controlling everything but about never giving up on anything. No life, no story, no world is beyond redemption."
Ultimate Trust:
"Whatever happens, I know that everything is in God's hands. I may not understand it all, but I believe that divine love holds and guides the entire universe—including my life."
All of these meanings align deeply with process theology.
Supernaturalism as Unexpected
Creative Transformation
Much ink has been spilled denying that God is a controlling power who interrupts the laws of physics and chemistry by exercising unilateral force—thus implying that God is an exception to metaphysical principles. However, I do not think this is what many people have in mind, or care about, when they speak of the supernatural.
For some, the word supernatural is used almost synonymously with the paranormal. Supernatural events, in this sense, include mind-to-mind connections (telepathy), the psychic movement of objects (psychokinesis), memories of past lives, out-of-body experiences, and apparitions, such as those reported in the resurrection appearances of Jesus. The eminent process theologian David Ray Griffin, in his book Parapsychology, Philosophy, and Spirituality: A Postmodern Explanation, argues that all of these experiences can and do make sense from a process, Whitehead-influenced perspective. If supernatural is understood in this way, then the case has already been made by Griffin that process theology can embrace, rather than dismiss, the paranormal.
But for many, supernatural means something different. They use the word to describe experiences that some call miracles—unexpected surprises that inspire awe and wonder.
Here, a process approach begins by recognizing that, for some, describing something as supernatural does not mean that it exists above or outside of nature—if nature is understood broadly as the web of mutual becoming that is the universe. Rather, for them, supernatural refers to events that are amazing, unexpected, and not reducible to categories of understanding derived from ordinary sense experience. These events often reveal what John Cobb, in Christ in a Pluralistic Age, calls the spirit of creative transformation—the way in which God is powerfully, even amazingly, present throughout all of nature, including human life.
For example, consider the experience of deep, unexplainable healing. A person suffering from years of emotional or physical pain suddenly undergoes a transformation—whether through a profound moment of prayer, a communal ritual, or an inner awakening—that cannot be fully explained by medical science or psychological analysis. From a process perspective, this healing may be understood as an instance of divine love working through the dynamic interweaving of personal, social, and spiritual influences. But to the person experiencing it, it might feel supernatural—not in the sense of violating the natural order but as something extraordinary, a breakthrough moment of grace beyond ordinary categories of understanding.
In both of these ways—by embracing omnipotence of love as a meaningful theological phrase and by moving past a rigid rejection of supernaturalism--process theology can deepen its capacity to connect with the lived experiences of those who seek a God whose power is love, whose presence is astonishing, and whose spirit of creative transformation is always at work in the world.
For some, the word supernatural is used almost synonymously with the paranormal. Supernatural events, in this sense, include mind-to-mind connections (telepathy), the psychic movement of objects (psychokinesis), memories of past lives, out-of-body experiences, and apparitions, such as those reported in the resurrection appearances of Jesus. The eminent process theologian David Ray Griffin, in his book Parapsychology, Philosophy, and Spirituality: A Postmodern Explanation, argues that all of these experiences can and do make sense from a process, Whitehead-influenced perspective. If supernatural is understood in this way, then the case has already been made by Griffin that process theology can embrace, rather than dismiss, the paranormal.
But for many, supernatural means something different. They use the word to describe experiences that some call miracles—unexpected surprises that inspire awe and wonder.
Here, a process approach begins by recognizing that, for some, describing something as supernatural does not mean that it exists above or outside of nature—if nature is understood broadly as the web of mutual becoming that is the universe. Rather, for them, supernatural refers to events that are amazing, unexpected, and not reducible to categories of understanding derived from ordinary sense experience. These events often reveal what John Cobb, in Christ in a Pluralistic Age, calls the spirit of creative transformation—the way in which God is powerfully, even amazingly, present throughout all of nature, including human life.
For example, consider the experience of deep, unexplainable healing. A person suffering from years of emotional or physical pain suddenly undergoes a transformation—whether through a profound moment of prayer, a communal ritual, or an inner awakening—that cannot be fully explained by medical science or psychological analysis. From a process perspective, this healing may be understood as an instance of divine love working through the dynamic interweaving of personal, social, and spiritual influences. But to the person experiencing it, it might feel supernatural—not in the sense of violating the natural order but as something extraordinary, a breakthrough moment of grace beyond ordinary categories of understanding.
In both of these ways—by embracing omnipotence of love as a meaningful theological phrase and by moving past a rigid rejection of supernaturalism--process theology can deepen its capacity to connect with the lived experiences of those who seek a God whose power is love, whose presence is astonishing, and whose spirit of creative transformation is always at work in the world.
The Age of Trump Has
Its Prophet: Pope Francis
By David Gibson, Director of the Center
on Religion and Culture at Fordham University
The New York Times, March 13, 2025
excerpts
The yearning for a leader who puts the needs and interests of others — including the least powerful — ahead of his own is felt especially among the many Americans today who desperately seek a light inside the darkness of Donald Trump.
For this pope has emerged as an increasingly lonely moral voice against perilous global trends that have at times left the forces of liberal democracy reeling: nationalism, populism, disinformation, xenophobia, economic inequality and authoritarianism.
*
Francis has become even more outspoken as those worrisome political trends accelerated, especially with Mr. Trump’s electoral victory. Shortly before the onset of his current illness, Francis took direct aim at Mr. Trump’s mass deportation policy and demonization of immigrants. “What is built on the basis of force,” Francis warned in an extraordinary letter to American bishops, “and not on the truth about the equal dignity of every human being, begins badly and will end badly.”
*
Warning against “propaganda that instills hatred, divides the world into friends to be defended and foes to be fought,” the pope has forcefully pushed for both an inclusive church and an inclusive world. Like the Gospels, Francis was a D.E.I. exponent before that became a bad thing, and he remains convincing because he focuses on the moral core of what diversity, equity and inclusion mean, and why they are important. The keys are humility and mercy.
For this pope has emerged as an increasingly lonely moral voice against perilous global trends that have at times left the forces of liberal democracy reeling: nationalism, populism, disinformation, xenophobia, economic inequality and authoritarianism.
*
Francis has become even more outspoken as those worrisome political trends accelerated, especially with Mr. Trump’s electoral victory. Shortly before the onset of his current illness, Francis took direct aim at Mr. Trump’s mass deportation policy and demonization of immigrants. “What is built on the basis of force,” Francis warned in an extraordinary letter to American bishops, “and not on the truth about the equal dignity of every human being, begins badly and will end badly.”
*
Warning against “propaganda that instills hatred, divides the world into friends to be defended and foes to be fought,” the pope has forcefully pushed for both an inclusive church and an inclusive world. Like the Gospels, Francis was a D.E.I. exponent before that became a bad thing, and he remains convincing because he focuses on the moral core of what diversity, equity and inclusion mean, and why they are important. The keys are humility and mercy.