Death and resurrection from the point of view of the cell-theory — Story, Setting & Ideas

The Argument from Combustion and Decay

Björklund devotes considerable space to the processes of decay and combustion, which he describes as a universal tendency toward lower energy states. He writes that the sun drives “disintegration and decay,” leaving geological sediments that record no spontaneous buildup of organic substances. The language is vivid: products of combustion are “fallen weights, slack bow-strings, water below the fall.” This thermodynamic framing sets up a central dichotomy: nature’s forces move only toward entropy, never toward the complex, energy-rich compounds that characterize life. The author insists that organic matter cannot arise from such a system without external intervention—a claim he will later link to the necessity of a creative intelligence.

Organic Matter as a Product of Art

Chapter VII introduces the book’s pivotal concept: organic matter is a “product of art,” meaning it requires a cause outside mechanical causality. Björklund draws a parallel to metal extraction: iron and copper are not found pure in nature but must be refined through artificial processes. Similarly, organisms resemble machines that nature cannot assemble spontaneously. The argument is structured as a logical deduction from the previous chapter’s conclusions, and the author repeatedly emphasizes that this reasoning, if sound, disproves materialism. The tone is methodical, almost legalistic, as he builds a case that the existence of life itself points to a non-mechanical origin.

The Role of the Cell in Resurrection

Though the excerpts do not reveal the full argument, the title indicates that cell theory provides the lens for discussing death and resurrection. Björklund likely extends his art analogy to the cellular level, treating cells as fundamental units that require a purposeful arrangement. The book’s structure suggests a movement from physical chemistry to biology to metaphysics, with each step narrowing the gap between scientific observation and theological hope. Readers should note that the author does not reject science but uses its findings—particularly the irreversibility of decay—to argue for a transcendent cause. The cell, as the basic unit of life, becomes the site where this argument is tested.

The Publisher’s Framing and the Book’s Context

The publishers’ preface situates Björklund alongside Gustav Fechner as a scientist who attempted a “sympathetic reconstruction of the idea of immortality on the basis of science.” It distances the work from the Society for Psychical Research, whose ghost stories and subjective reports are dismissed as unreliable. This framing is important: the book aims to be a rigorous, evidence-based alternative to spiritualism. Björklund’s Swedish origin and relative obscurity in English are noted, and the preface admits that his solution may not be correct—but insists his contribution to the philosophy of religion deserves attention. This editorial stance invites readers to engage critically with the argument rather than accept it uncritically.

Björklund’s work is best approached as a sustained logical exercise rather than a devotional text. Readers should track how each chapter’s conclusion becomes the premise for the next, and note where the author shifts from empirical observation to metaphysical inference. The cell-theory framework is used to ground claims about resurrection in biology, but the evidence provided is largely thermodynamic and analogical. Those interested in early 20th-century attempts to reconcile science and religion will find this a distinctive, if speculative, contribution.

I found myself drifting back to that strange Swedish book, the one where cells are argued to be art, not nature. It made me think of The displaying of supposed witchcraft — Story, Setting & Ideas. Both hold such earnest, careful efforts to explain what we fear and can't see—one through science, one through conviction. There’s a tenderness in that old certainty, even when it was wrong.