Photo by David Clode on Unsplash
Living with the Unexpected
A Process Theology of Surprise
A theology of surprise invites us to cultivate resilience and creativity, honesty and humor, courage and compassion, in the face of life’s unpredictability. It encourages us to accept, and in some contexts, embrace the unexpected as part of the richness of existence, knowing that the new and unforeseen can bring both delight and challenge. This theology of surprise does not demand naïve optimism, nor does it encourage an avoidance of desirable forms of stability, in a marriage, in a society, in life itself. But, in combination with faith in a God of creative transformation, it fosters an enjoyment of many forms of surprise and a realistic hope that even in the darkest moments, there is potential for transformation.
Open and relational theology lends itself to, and almost demands, this kind of theology: a theology of surprise. The future is not-yet-determined; we ourselves do not have control over what happens; and the unpredictable is to be expected. The one thing we can be sure of, amid all the uncertainty, is that the future will be surprising, whatever it is. Indeed, open and relational theologians propose that even the soul of the universe - even the life in whose life the universe unfolds - is open to the unpredictable future. The future is open, even for God.
We best not romanticize surprise. We live in a world of many kinds of surprises: life-nourishing, tragic, and ambiguous. Consider some examples:
Happy and Life-Nourishing Surprises
Sad and Tragic Surprises
Complex and Ambiguous Surprises
Experiences such as these remind us that surprises—whether life-nourishing, tragic, or ambiguous—are woven into the very fabric of existence. In the words of process theology, the universe is, for God and for us, a creative advance into novelty. This creative advance is not an occasional occurrence but the essence of the universe itself—an unfolding reality where newness is ever-emerging. Even God, in this view, is not outside this unfolding but participates within it, responding to and shaping possibilities moment by moment.
Surprise, then, is not an interruption of order; it is the pulse of existence. It arises through the interplay of countless agents—quantum fluctuations within atoms, the genetic mutations that drive evolution, the self-organizing patterns of ecosystems, and the unpredictable behaviors of animals and humans alike. Surprises ripple outward from planetary orbits in distant galaxies to the growth of fungi beneath forest floors and the neural firings in a poet’s mind that give rise to a sudden stanza. They are born of freedom, chance, and creativity, the conditions under which the universe itself evolves.
Heidegger once wrote a book titled Being and Time, emphasizing time as fundamental to existence. Process philosophers influenced by Whitehead might instead write Being and Novelty or Being and Surprise. In process thought, surprise is more than a subjective feeling; it is an ontological reality. It is the perpetual birthing of what has never been before—the unexpected, the unplanned, and the transformative.
And yet, the creative advance is not the whole story. There is, within the advance itself, a spirit of Amipotence, of love, that is both an indwelling lure within each person, indeed each creature, to endure the tragic surprises and to receive, with gratitude, the happy surprises; and it is an inclusive Life, the very soul of the universe, as receptive of the surprises, transforming tragedy into beauty, hatred into love, as is possible. This Spirit - God - is not located above or beyond the universe; rather God is coincident with the universe itself: the living whole of the universe, understood as having a life of its own.
For those who suffer from tragic surprises, this theology offers a compassionate word. It acknowledges the pain of loss, betrayal, and disillusionment without minimizing their impact. Not everything happens for a reason; not everything unfolds according to plan; there is not precisely determined script or score to life. Bad things happen. Yet, it also proposes that within the tragedy lies the potential for growth and renewal. In the companionship of God, who is deeply present in the unfolding drama of life, there is a source of comfort and strength. This God does not dictate outcomes but walks alongside us, inviting us toward healing and new beginnings.
Furthermore, the ambiguous surprises—the bittersweet and complex moments—challenge us to hold multiple truths at once. These surprises often carry a depth that resists simple categorization as either “good” or “bad.” They are the liminal spaces where transformation often occurs, where endings and beginnings intertwine, and where new insights are born. In these moments, the theology of surprise encourages us to stay present, to sit with uncertainty, and to trust the unfolding process.
Living with a theology of surprise means embracing an active, participatory faith. It asks us to engage with the unpredictable future not as passive recipients but as co-creators. We are invited to respond to life’s surprises with curiosity, courage, and compassion, knowing that our responses shape the possibilities that emerge. In this way, the surprises of life become not only challenges to endure but also opportunities to discover deeper connections, new meanings, and a greater sense of the sacred in the everyday.
Ultimately, a theology of surprise calls us to make peace with the inherent uncertainty of life. While the future remains open and unpredictable, we can walk forward, sometimes playfully and sometimes with whatever courage we can muster, with the assurance that even the most unexpected twists and turns have the potential to lead us toward greater wholeness, beauty, and love.
Beyond the Ideal of Perfect Control
There are some people in some circumstances who don't need, in the moment at hand, a theology that invites openness to happy surprises; they need the courage to live with tragic surprises. A full-fledged theology of surprise will speak to them. It will not pretend that everything happens for a reason, or that all is part of a divine plan. It will be more pastoral in spirit, offering consolation. They have enough surprise in their life; they need stability. A theology of surprise must be balanced with a theology of stability.
But there are others for whom a prophetic call to be "open to surprise" is just what they need. Consider Emily. Emily’s life is - or at least was- a masterpiece of control. Every hour was accounted for, every detail planned. She prided herself on her discipline and organization, but beneath the surface, she felt trapped—suffocated by the very predictability she had worked so hard to maintain. Her friends admired her reliability but often wondered if she was truly happy.
One evening, Emily reluctantly attended a jazz concert. The music unsettled her at first—so improvisational, so unpredictable—yet she soon found herself captivated. The musicians seemed to embrace surprise, weaving unexpected notes and rhythms into something beautiful. Watching them, Emily felt a spark—a longing to step out of her carefully constructed world and into the unknown.
That night, Emily sensed a lure—a gentle invitation to let go, to trust, and to open herself to the unexpected. Over time, this invitation transformed her. Small acts of spontaneity—a last-minute road trip, an unplanned painting session—helped her rediscover joy and wonder. What once felt terrifying became life-giving, and Emily began to see surprise not as a threat but as a gift.
Emily’s story illustrates the lure of Amipotence—a divine call toward well-being and wholeness, which sometimes takes the form of an invitation to embrace novelty and surprise. This spirit of Amipotence does not control but persuades, guiding creatures to seek their own good in ways that harmonize with the broader web of existence.
A Balanced View of Surprise
A theology of surprise does not make a god of surprise. It does not elevate disruption as an ultimate principle, as if stability were always bad and surprise always good. Instead, it recognizes that both stability and surprise have their place in the unfolding of a life well-lived.
In settings where desires for stability and predictability have become oppressive—stifling creativity, growth, and freedom—a theology of surprise emphasizes the power and beauty of surprise. It celebrates those moments of unexpected grace, insight, and transformation that break through patterns of rigidity and open new possibilities for becoming.
Surprise, in this sense, is not merely a disruption but a form of renewal—a reorientation of perspective that invites deeper engagement with life. It awakens curiosity, sparks creativity, and rekindles hope. Yet this theology also acknowledges that too much surprise can be unsettling, even harmful, and that stability provides the grounding necessary for trust, security, and healing. Yes, a theology of surprise needs, as its complement, a theology of stability, The life well-lived finds beauty in novelty and order, and senses that the divine reality itself a lure toward novel forms of order, and ordered forms of novelty. We this in the ongoing evolution of the cosmos, and we it in ourselves.
- Jay McDaniel
Open and relational theology lends itself to, and almost demands, this kind of theology: a theology of surprise. The future is not-yet-determined; we ourselves do not have control over what happens; and the unpredictable is to be expected. The one thing we can be sure of, amid all the uncertainty, is that the future will be surprising, whatever it is. Indeed, open and relational theologians propose that even the soul of the universe - even the life in whose life the universe unfolds - is open to the unpredictable future. The future is open, even for God.
We best not romanticize surprise. We live in a world of many kinds of surprises: life-nourishing, tragic, and ambiguous. Consider some examples:
Happy and Life-Nourishing Surprises
- Unexpected joy – Receiving an unanticipated gift, a heartfelt compliment, or a reunion with a long-lost friend.
- Creative inspiration – A sudden idea or insight that sparks a new project, poem, or piece of art.
- Acts of kindness – Being the recipient of unexpected generosity, such as a stranger paying for your coffee or a neighbor helping without being asked.
- New beginnings – Discovering love unexpectedly, starting a new job, or finding a sense of purpose in an unforeseen way.
- Natural beauty – Witnessing a breathtaking sunrise, the sudden bloom of a flower, or encountering wildlife in an unplanned moment.
- Healing and recovery – An unexpected remission from illness, finding peace after grief, or mending a broken relationship.
- Breakthrough moments – Solving a problem that felt unsolvable or having a sudden realization that brings clarity and direction.
- Unplanned adventures – A spontaneous trip, meeting new people, or discovering a hidden gem in a familiar place.
- Serendipitous connections – Forming meaningful relationships with people met by chance.
- Second chances – Opportunities to try again after failure, rekindle old dreams, or repair past mistakes.
Sad and Tragic Surprises
- Sudden loss – The unexpected death of a loved one, the loss of a job, or the end of a relationship.
- Betrayal – Discovering dishonesty, infidelity, or broken trust from a close friend or partner.
- Accidents and disasters – Car crashes, natural disasters, or other unexpected calamities.
- Illness and injury – A sudden diagnosis of a serious health condition or an unexpected accident that alters one’s life.
- Rejection and failure – Being turned down for a job, losing a competition, or facing public humiliation.
- Disillusionment – Realizing that someone you admired or trusted is not who you thought they were.
- Unwelcome change – Forced relocation, economic downturns, or unexpected responsibilities due to external events.
- Abandonment – Being left behind by someone important, either emotionally or physically.
- Acts of violence – Experiencing or witnessing an assault, robbery, or other violent act that leaves a sense of fear, trauma, or insecurity.
- Unfulfilled expectations – Hopes that are dashed when plans fail to materialize.
- Unresolved tensions – Surprises that stir up old wounds, unresolved conflicts, or deeply buried traumas.
Complex and Ambiguous Surprises
- Bittersweet moments – Receiving long-awaited news that also carries sadness, such as learning of a new job that requires relocation away from loved ones.
- Revelations – Learning hidden truths that change one’s perspective, for better or worse.
- Transformative challenges – Events like divorce or personal crises that, while painful, lead to growth and deeper understanding.
- Moral dilemmas – Unexpected situations requiring difficult ethical decisions.
- Unpredictable encounters – Meeting someone who challenges your worldview or values.
- Endings that become beginnings – An unexpected loss that eventually opens the door to a new opportunity or calling.
- Unplanned sacrifices – Having to give up something important to care for others or adapt to unexpected circumstances.
- Mixed blessings – Events that bring both joy and sorrow, such as becoming a parent while grieving the loss of your own parent.
Experiences such as these remind us that surprises—whether life-nourishing, tragic, or ambiguous—are woven into the very fabric of existence. In the words of process theology, the universe is, for God and for us, a creative advance into novelty. This creative advance is not an occasional occurrence but the essence of the universe itself—an unfolding reality where newness is ever-emerging. Even God, in this view, is not outside this unfolding but participates within it, responding to and shaping possibilities moment by moment.
Surprise, then, is not an interruption of order; it is the pulse of existence. It arises through the interplay of countless agents—quantum fluctuations within atoms, the genetic mutations that drive evolution, the self-organizing patterns of ecosystems, and the unpredictable behaviors of animals and humans alike. Surprises ripple outward from planetary orbits in distant galaxies to the growth of fungi beneath forest floors and the neural firings in a poet’s mind that give rise to a sudden stanza. They are born of freedom, chance, and creativity, the conditions under which the universe itself evolves.
Heidegger once wrote a book titled Being and Time, emphasizing time as fundamental to existence. Process philosophers influenced by Whitehead might instead write Being and Novelty or Being and Surprise. In process thought, surprise is more than a subjective feeling; it is an ontological reality. It is the perpetual birthing of what has never been before—the unexpected, the unplanned, and the transformative.
And yet, the creative advance is not the whole story. There is, within the advance itself, a spirit of Amipotence, of love, that is both an indwelling lure within each person, indeed each creature, to endure the tragic surprises and to receive, with gratitude, the happy surprises; and it is an inclusive Life, the very soul of the universe, as receptive of the surprises, transforming tragedy into beauty, hatred into love, as is possible. This Spirit - God - is not located above or beyond the universe; rather God is coincident with the universe itself: the living whole of the universe, understood as having a life of its own.
For those who suffer from tragic surprises, this theology offers a compassionate word. It acknowledges the pain of loss, betrayal, and disillusionment without minimizing their impact. Not everything happens for a reason; not everything unfolds according to plan; there is not precisely determined script or score to life. Bad things happen. Yet, it also proposes that within the tragedy lies the potential for growth and renewal. In the companionship of God, who is deeply present in the unfolding drama of life, there is a source of comfort and strength. This God does not dictate outcomes but walks alongside us, inviting us toward healing and new beginnings.
Furthermore, the ambiguous surprises—the bittersweet and complex moments—challenge us to hold multiple truths at once. These surprises often carry a depth that resists simple categorization as either “good” or “bad.” They are the liminal spaces where transformation often occurs, where endings and beginnings intertwine, and where new insights are born. In these moments, the theology of surprise encourages us to stay present, to sit with uncertainty, and to trust the unfolding process.
Living with a theology of surprise means embracing an active, participatory faith. It asks us to engage with the unpredictable future not as passive recipients but as co-creators. We are invited to respond to life’s surprises with curiosity, courage, and compassion, knowing that our responses shape the possibilities that emerge. In this way, the surprises of life become not only challenges to endure but also opportunities to discover deeper connections, new meanings, and a greater sense of the sacred in the everyday.
Ultimately, a theology of surprise calls us to make peace with the inherent uncertainty of life. While the future remains open and unpredictable, we can walk forward, sometimes playfully and sometimes with whatever courage we can muster, with the assurance that even the most unexpected twists and turns have the potential to lead us toward greater wholeness, beauty, and love.
Beyond the Ideal of Perfect Control
There are some people in some circumstances who don't need, in the moment at hand, a theology that invites openness to happy surprises; they need the courage to live with tragic surprises. A full-fledged theology of surprise will speak to them. It will not pretend that everything happens for a reason, or that all is part of a divine plan. It will be more pastoral in spirit, offering consolation. They have enough surprise in their life; they need stability. A theology of surprise must be balanced with a theology of stability.
But there are others for whom a prophetic call to be "open to surprise" is just what they need. Consider Emily. Emily’s life is - or at least was- a masterpiece of control. Every hour was accounted for, every detail planned. She prided herself on her discipline and organization, but beneath the surface, she felt trapped—suffocated by the very predictability she had worked so hard to maintain. Her friends admired her reliability but often wondered if she was truly happy.
One evening, Emily reluctantly attended a jazz concert. The music unsettled her at first—so improvisational, so unpredictable—yet she soon found herself captivated. The musicians seemed to embrace surprise, weaving unexpected notes and rhythms into something beautiful. Watching them, Emily felt a spark—a longing to step out of her carefully constructed world and into the unknown.
That night, Emily sensed a lure—a gentle invitation to let go, to trust, and to open herself to the unexpected. Over time, this invitation transformed her. Small acts of spontaneity—a last-minute road trip, an unplanned painting session—helped her rediscover joy and wonder. What once felt terrifying became life-giving, and Emily began to see surprise not as a threat but as a gift.
Emily’s story illustrates the lure of Amipotence—a divine call toward well-being and wholeness, which sometimes takes the form of an invitation to embrace novelty and surprise. This spirit of Amipotence does not control but persuades, guiding creatures to seek their own good in ways that harmonize with the broader web of existence.
A Balanced View of Surprise
A theology of surprise does not make a god of surprise. It does not elevate disruption as an ultimate principle, as if stability were always bad and surprise always good. Instead, it recognizes that both stability and surprise have their place in the unfolding of a life well-lived.
In settings where desires for stability and predictability have become oppressive—stifling creativity, growth, and freedom—a theology of surprise emphasizes the power and beauty of surprise. It celebrates those moments of unexpected grace, insight, and transformation that break through patterns of rigidity and open new possibilities for becoming.
Surprise, in this sense, is not merely a disruption but a form of renewal—a reorientation of perspective that invites deeper engagement with life. It awakens curiosity, sparks creativity, and rekindles hope. Yet this theology also acknowledges that too much surprise can be unsettling, even harmful, and that stability provides the grounding necessary for trust, security, and healing. Yes, a theology of surprise needs, as its complement, a theology of stability, The life well-lived finds beauty in novelty and order, and senses that the divine reality itself a lure toward novel forms of order, and ordered forms of novelty. We this in the ongoing evolution of the cosmos, and we it in ourselves.
- Jay McDaniel