Friday 8 October 1999
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Pic of the day: Somewhat delayed, as usual here in Norway, the September issue of Scientific American. In this issue, I was particularly interested in the article "What scientists think about God". Of course, it would have been even more interesting to know what God thinks about scientists, but I suspect there is little new on that front. Turned out there was little new here either. The percentage of scientists that believe in a personal God and personal immortality was unchanged from the 1930es, at 40%. Like then, the leading scientists were much less likely to believe. In the National Academy of Sciences, less than 10% believed. The magazine put forth two main hypotheses for why this was so.1) The truly dedicated scientist needs a sceptical mindset. Or.. 2) The peer-appointed NAS selects for atheism, rejecting religious candidates and encouraging atheists. A third possibility was mentioned in passing, really. Namely that for many dedicated scientists, science replaces religion. I would probably do them injustice if I called it a surrogate religion. Rather, the enormity of the matters at hand fill the scientist with an awe that is numinous, surpassing the bounds of sheer impression. The scientist sees his own insignificance in the cosmos, and at the same time experience a deep interconnectedness with it. The main proponent of this "secular religion" is probably Ursula Goodenough. I'm tempted to buy her book, The sacred Depths of Nature. I sure would have done so if I found it in the nearby bookshop. This being Norway, fat chance. The thorough review of the book in the May issue of SciAm definitely interested me. To suddenly get all personal here, I have long held the belief that God is not exactly personal, though I do adress Him as such. Rather I suspect that God is superpersonal ... that personal is just a subset of the Ultimate Mind. It seems a common experience of all mystics regardless of religion, that they find themselves completely unable to fathom the Higher Being. It fills them easily and overflows them. This goes along with my own more limited experiences of the same. Furthermore, I suspect that if there are other intelligent species, they may have vastly different mindsets, and yet have the same possibility to relate to the Divine. Of course we are not likely to know this in a long long time. We can't even talk with the dolphins, who share most of our DNA. ... At work, I was sitting a while longer after the others were gone home. This is because I come later in the morning. This morning I was up and about reasonably early (I had fallen asleep shortly after midnight, being extremely sleepy). Yet I managed to come after opening hours even so, because I had to download cuteFTP to properly discuss it with a friend. Now I'm just happy to do stuff like this for a good friend, and I was still earlier to work than I used to be. In fact, I was so early that I mistook lunchtime by an hour, preparing to go buy my lunch an hour early! Anyway, alone in my office, I played this song "One and one". I think it is written by Robert Miles, it was certainly his CD "Dreamland" that made it famous. But the version I heard at work was by someone else whose strange name now escapes me. Unlike the original (?) version, the text was quite easy to discern here. And as I listened to it, I suddenly remembered. The words of the song leapt out at me:"Let's stand still in time" The later so famous Jesus told a parable about a rich man. He was so rich that he had to rebuild his barns to store it all. Then finally he was satisfied, and said to himself: Now you have much good for a long time. But God said to him: Tonight you shall have to give up your soul. (The idea supposedly is that earthly goods is not a good investment.)Fast forward to Dr Faustus, who according to legend (and Goethe) sold his soul to the Devil. Things go on and on for a long while, and then Faust exclaims: "Moment, stay!" (or something similar in German, which is the only version I know). At this point, the Devil strikes and claims the soul. Now, if I got this right, Faust was saved after all, because of some intervention from a lady whose name I have forgotten, but there was some kind of love there. Good for him. "Let's stand still in time!" It is a feeling I recognize only too well. And I wonder ... the strange observation that my happiness tends to be followed by illness of some random kind. Does it correlate with the above stories? Is it so that I want this so badly, to stand still in time, but am not allowed to? And if so, why not?Perhaps because I am not there yet. I am not perfect, this I freely admit. But perhaps I am not perfected - not yet become who I am destined to be. Let me go back to a symbol I have used a while ago. During my younger years, I was walking uphill all the time. There were occasional ridges where I could see a bit ahead, but mostly the line of sight was filled with more mountainside to climb, grey dull stone mostly. But now I am over the top. And in front of me is this breathtaking view. It is as if I can see everything around connecting seamlessly: From the tiny subatomic particles to the galaxy clusters, from matter to spirit and back. My world is wide and whole and awesome. I am in love with the sight, and I cry out: "Let's stand still in time!"I do not want to start the climb down, down from the heights, back into the rocky lowlands of fog and valleys, down the path that will lead me in the end to the last shore and the waters where the sun sets. According to the Bible, Jesus was on a mountain once with three of his trusted disciples. And they saw him speak with Moses and Eliah. And Peter said: "It is good that we are here! Let us make three dwellings, one for you and one for Moses and one for Eliah." For he did not know what he was saying.But of course, not long after they went down from the mountain, and had many a league of walk ahead of them until they reached the cross. I certainly can understand Peter by now. Yes, there are spots in a human life where we are tempted to build dwellings. Where we want to stay. But we are not finished. Whether there is much left or little, time will show. Though much is visible, the path itself is shrouded in fog. And the shore may be near or far; I will see it when I get there, and then I shall sail for the coast I have not seen, even from the highest peak. |