Religion and Rocketry - a Review
C.S. Lewis, in his essay, "Religion and Rocketry" argues that science and scientific claims are often trotted out to attack the Christian faith. (This essay is found in the book The World's Last Night). While that is sometimes the case, it is more often the position of religion to feel or perceive themselves as being threatened by science given the idea that science seeks to undermine faith, even to the absurd point of Christians condemning persons for working in scientific fields: "I feel that I am, in fact, serving God by working to preserve his creation and take care of it. Instead, I've had conservative Christians criticize me for being involved in geology because it has incendiary connections to 'old earth' and 'evolutionist' views." ("Ann" an interviewee in David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons' book UnChristian p. 135-6.) It is that kind of conservative view that can prevent the hypotheticals of science or even science fiction from ever being addressed.
There is, however, a more moderate fundamentalism that addresses science fiction and speculation with responses based on a theological point of view. For example, C.S. Lewis' essay. What he seeks to do is to engage in the hypothetical debate about the possibility of "life out there" with a conservative theology.
Lewis begins by stating that the prospect of finding life in space, a view he sees as unlikely - not so much life in space, but the idea of finding it or it finding us - is a formidable question. Yet to discuss the formidable question, he asks questions that he feels must be answered in addition to when if not before that contact is made. They are as follows:
1. are there animals anywhere except earth?
2. do those animals have "rational souls"?
3. are other species (other than humans) "fallen"?
4. have these other species been denied redemption?
5. is there only one mode of redemption possible?
The first two questions are the stuff of theological science fiction: are there other creatures out there and do they have a soul? A great pair of questions. Animals, it should be said, in Lewis' terms, it seems, mean what contemporary science fiction might call aliens or life-forms and not pets or zoo animals, though this is suggested by the word as well.
By soul, Lewis says he means "not merely the faculty to abstract and calculate, but the apprehension of values, the power to mean by 'good' something more than 'good for me' or even 'good for my species.' (Lewis p. 85). In some ways, Lewis seems to be speaking of sentience, but slightly more than that. Parrots, for example, are alive and have awareness, but are not 'rational' beings, even if they could speak or mimic speech. Instead of just sentience or basic consciousness, Lewis asks of these aliens have a "spiritual" aspect or soul. (Lewis p. 85).
Of course, the obvious rejoinder to this question would be: how do we humans know that we have a soul? While we can argue that the soul is that which exists within us, causing us to engage with public or worldly matters, or that it is found as a theological idea in scripture, its existence is difficult to prove. It is assumed. As least, so far as Lewis is concerned, it is assumed for humans. His question is this: if we encounter alien life, will that life have a spiritual dimension to it? Will it have a soul?
The question is pertinent for Lewis because the presence of a soul leads to Lewis' third question: are these beings fallen? It is here that Lewis' point becomes a little difficult to follow, not because of the general idea, but because of some of his apologetic rhetoric. For example, "No creature that deserved Redemption would need to be redeemed." His point is that the redemption of humanity through the death and resurrection of Christ was because [humans] are not worth dying for." Therefore Christ died "to make them worth it." (Lewis p. 86.)
The argument here is an odd one. Apparently those who merit redemption will not get it. However, Christ died that we should be made worthy. This, it would seem to me, means that in being redeemed humanity no longer deserves it! It's circular and brings you back to where you started. But Lewis is utilizing the argument to set up the fourth point, which is the interesting theological question (and for Lewis the most pressing): if they have souls and, like humans, are fallen, have they been denied redemption because Jesus was a specific event on earth?
Of course, we have to realize Lewis' point of view is that humanity is fallen and, in some sense, seems to remain fallen and is almost always overcome by a sinful nature. This is, for Lewis, a given. This is based on the doctrine of original sin, most definitely formulated by Augustine who connected the fall of humanity with "Adam's sin." It is not just a mental state, but a definite, all encompassing metaphysical state. There is no escape from this and one need the intervention of God to overcome fallen nature. Lewis' question is whether or not aliens would be "fallen" as well, recognizing that while it is (in his view) the state of humanity, it need not be the state of the aliens.
Locating the incarnation of Christ specifically on earth, Lewis' ponders the question: if the incarnation is the route to redemption, is it only through Christ and only on earth? Are the aliens doomed, therefore, to remain un-redeemed or is there another way to salvation?
Most extraordinary is Lewis' allowance for the possibility of another form of redemption.
It is here that Lewis enters into the realm of science-fictional contemplation, though not in the sense of envisioning aliens, but recognizing a dismal view of how humanity might interact with such creatures. In words very much on the mind of social activism of the latter part of the 2000s, "we know what our race does to strangers. Man destroys or enslaves every species he can. Civilized man murders, enslaves, cheats, and corrupts savage man." (Lewis p. 89.) More to the point, Lewis worries that if we met aliens that were weaker than humans, they would be enslaved. If they are stronger, "they will be, very properly, destroyed." (Lewis p. 89.)
Lewis argues against "gun and gospel" means of human ambassadorship, as well as warning that the Christian should "resolve to stand firm against all exploitation and all theological imperialism." (Lewis p. 90.) It is here that Lewis makes his most strident claims. His anti-imperialist ideology is quite clear: Christians cannot be parties to systems of enslavement - even if that which is being enslaved is an alien. Lewis, of course, would likely not consider theology to be a means of enslavement, but he does state that, theologically, the "mere existence of these creatures would not raise a problem." The real difficulty theologically is this: "we will still need to know that they are fallen; then that they have not been, or will not be, redeemed in the mode we know; and then, that no other way is possible."
Here is the crux of Lewis' speculations: we need to know if aliens are "fallen" as humanity is to original sin. If they are not, then what would it mean to meet us? If they are, then have they been redeemed by Christ or is there a way to redemption for aliens that would not involve the story of Christ? Though he offers the idea, Lewis does not come across as convinced that there could be another way. However, the suggestion is that if they are fallen, the story of the alien culture mirrors almost exactly that of the faith narrative of the Bible, which is just as speculative as the aliens, but a necessary leap if one cannot have alternative routes to redemption.
Lewis' essay is short but brimming with the hypothetical ideas of science fiction and theology. He concludes his essay in an effort to break off some of the more speculative ideas he puts forth in a manner not unlike the closing of Ecclesiastes: "beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness to the flesh." (Ecclesiastes 12:12.) Lewis might take exception and state that much that is hypothetical is a weariness to the flesh.
What Lewis does in his essay is to venture momentarily into the hypothetical science fiction realm of the "what if" of alien life. His primary concern is theological, though he doesn't spend too much time there: are they fallen? If not are they pre-Eden, or are they redeemed by some other means than Christ? That idea might well be more troubling than the aliens, at least for Lewis.
I do, however, find his fear of our reactions to aliens a telling one. It is, in fact, the source of many a science fiction movie (one thinks of Avatar) which tackles Lewis' fears head on. His concern about human reactions toward aliens is one society already struggles with among its own.
My concern is that in pointing out the demonstrative nature of our fallen-ness, Lewis does little to deal with the redemptive or salvific act of Christ. This , of course, is not Lewis' point. But what he does spell out without actually saying so is that humanity must be careful not to seek out new worlds imperiously. In so doing, we inject our fallen-ness to thsoe who, prior to our arrival, may have been just fine. If nothing else, Lewis demonstrates how it is to seek to engage our theology and our beliefs with science and science fiction in order to engage with our actual realities as well as our own beliefs and how they shape our view of life, the universe, and everything.
There is, however, a more moderate fundamentalism that addresses science fiction and speculation with responses based on a theological point of view. For example, C.S. Lewis' essay. What he seeks to do is to engage in the hypothetical debate about the possibility of "life out there" with a conservative theology.
Lewis begins by stating that the prospect of finding life in space, a view he sees as unlikely - not so much life in space, but the idea of finding it or it finding us - is a formidable question. Yet to discuss the formidable question, he asks questions that he feels must be answered in addition to when if not before that contact is made. They are as follows:
1. are there animals anywhere except earth?
2. do those animals have "rational souls"?
3. are other species (other than humans) "fallen"?
4. have these other species been denied redemption?
5. is there only one mode of redemption possible?
The first two questions are the stuff of theological science fiction: are there other creatures out there and do they have a soul? A great pair of questions. Animals, it should be said, in Lewis' terms, it seems, mean what contemporary science fiction might call aliens or life-forms and not pets or zoo animals, though this is suggested by the word as well.
By soul, Lewis says he means "not merely the faculty to abstract and calculate, but the apprehension of values, the power to mean by 'good' something more than 'good for me' or even 'good for my species.' (Lewis p. 85). In some ways, Lewis seems to be speaking of sentience, but slightly more than that. Parrots, for example, are alive and have awareness, but are not 'rational' beings, even if they could speak or mimic speech. Instead of just sentience or basic consciousness, Lewis asks of these aliens have a "spiritual" aspect or soul. (Lewis p. 85).
Of course, the obvious rejoinder to this question would be: how do we humans know that we have a soul? While we can argue that the soul is that which exists within us, causing us to engage with public or worldly matters, or that it is found as a theological idea in scripture, its existence is difficult to prove. It is assumed. As least, so far as Lewis is concerned, it is assumed for humans. His question is this: if we encounter alien life, will that life have a spiritual dimension to it? Will it have a soul?
The question is pertinent for Lewis because the presence of a soul leads to Lewis' third question: are these beings fallen? It is here that Lewis' point becomes a little difficult to follow, not because of the general idea, but because of some of his apologetic rhetoric. For example, "No creature that deserved Redemption would need to be redeemed." His point is that the redemption of humanity through the death and resurrection of Christ was because [humans] are not worth dying for." Therefore Christ died "to make them worth it." (Lewis p. 86.)
The argument here is an odd one. Apparently those who merit redemption will not get it. However, Christ died that we should be made worthy. This, it would seem to me, means that in being redeemed humanity no longer deserves it! It's circular and brings you back to where you started. But Lewis is utilizing the argument to set up the fourth point, which is the interesting theological question (and for Lewis the most pressing): if they have souls and, like humans, are fallen, have they been denied redemption because Jesus was a specific event on earth?
Of course, we have to realize Lewis' point of view is that humanity is fallen and, in some sense, seems to remain fallen and is almost always overcome by a sinful nature. This is, for Lewis, a given. This is based on the doctrine of original sin, most definitely formulated by Augustine who connected the fall of humanity with "Adam's sin." It is not just a mental state, but a definite, all encompassing metaphysical state. There is no escape from this and one need the intervention of God to overcome fallen nature. Lewis' question is whether or not aliens would be "fallen" as well, recognizing that while it is (in his view) the state of humanity, it need not be the state of the aliens.
Locating the incarnation of Christ specifically on earth, Lewis' ponders the question: if the incarnation is the route to redemption, is it only through Christ and only on earth? Are the aliens doomed, therefore, to remain un-redeemed or is there another way to salvation?
Most extraordinary is Lewis' allowance for the possibility of another form of redemption.
It is here that Lewis enters into the realm of science-fictional contemplation, though not in the sense of envisioning aliens, but recognizing a dismal view of how humanity might interact with such creatures. In words very much on the mind of social activism of the latter part of the 2000s, "we know what our race does to strangers. Man destroys or enslaves every species he can. Civilized man murders, enslaves, cheats, and corrupts savage man." (Lewis p. 89.) More to the point, Lewis worries that if we met aliens that were weaker than humans, they would be enslaved. If they are stronger, "they will be, very properly, destroyed." (Lewis p. 89.)
Lewis argues against "gun and gospel" means of human ambassadorship, as well as warning that the Christian should "resolve to stand firm against all exploitation and all theological imperialism." (Lewis p. 90.) It is here that Lewis makes his most strident claims. His anti-imperialist ideology is quite clear: Christians cannot be parties to systems of enslavement - even if that which is being enslaved is an alien. Lewis, of course, would likely not consider theology to be a means of enslavement, but he does state that, theologically, the "mere existence of these creatures would not raise a problem." The real difficulty theologically is this: "we will still need to know that they are fallen; then that they have not been, or will not be, redeemed in the mode we know; and then, that no other way is possible."
Here is the crux of Lewis' speculations: we need to know if aliens are "fallen" as humanity is to original sin. If they are not, then what would it mean to meet us? If they are, then have they been redeemed by Christ or is there a way to redemption for aliens that would not involve the story of Christ? Though he offers the idea, Lewis does not come across as convinced that there could be another way. However, the suggestion is that if they are fallen, the story of the alien culture mirrors almost exactly that of the faith narrative of the Bible, which is just as speculative as the aliens, but a necessary leap if one cannot have alternative routes to redemption.
Lewis' essay is short but brimming with the hypothetical ideas of science fiction and theology. He concludes his essay in an effort to break off some of the more speculative ideas he puts forth in a manner not unlike the closing of Ecclesiastes: "beware of anything beyond these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness to the flesh." (Ecclesiastes 12:12.) Lewis might take exception and state that much that is hypothetical is a weariness to the flesh.
What Lewis does in his essay is to venture momentarily into the hypothetical science fiction realm of the "what if" of alien life. His primary concern is theological, though he doesn't spend too much time there: are they fallen? If not are they pre-Eden, or are they redeemed by some other means than Christ? That idea might well be more troubling than the aliens, at least for Lewis.
I do, however, find his fear of our reactions to aliens a telling one. It is, in fact, the source of many a science fiction movie (one thinks of Avatar) which tackles Lewis' fears head on. His concern about human reactions toward aliens is one society already struggles with among its own.
My concern is that in pointing out the demonstrative nature of our fallen-ness, Lewis does little to deal with the redemptive or salvific act of Christ. This , of course, is not Lewis' point. But what he does spell out without actually saying so is that humanity must be careful not to seek out new worlds imperiously. In so doing, we inject our fallen-ness to thsoe who, prior to our arrival, may have been just fine. If nothing else, Lewis demonstrates how it is to seek to engage our theology and our beliefs with science and science fiction in order to engage with our actual realities as well as our own beliefs and how they shape our view of life, the universe, and everything.
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