This morning's sermon is the second of two which were bid on and "purchased"
by Paul Coolidge at two previous First Parish Goods & Services Auction in 1995 and
1996. Three weeks ago the sermon was a reflection on the life and thought of the great New
England Transcendentalist, Ralph Waldo Emerson. This morning's sermon will focus on the
recent late astronomer, Carl Sagan, his vision of the cosmos, and the relationship between
science and religion as embodied in his thought.
I want to begin by reiterating one of the themes from the Emerson sermon. Emerson was
deeply affected by the new cosmology that the science of his day was bringing to the fore.
He could no longer believe in the anthropocentric scheme of salvation portrayed in the
Bible. The universe was much more vast than the Biblical writers had ever imagined and the
forces and powers of nature were no longer earth bound. Emerson's response was to say,
"I will lift up my hands and say Kosmos." What would Emerson have thought of our
even greater expanded cosmos? His cosmos was still confined to one milky-way galaxy and
millions of stars. Our cosmos is now comprised of billions of galaxies and gazillions of
stars, and the theory that they all derive from one source and one moment of conception,
the Big Bang.
"I will lift up my hands and say Kosmos." Emerson's universe has now become for
better or worse Carl Sagan's cosmos. And that cosmos has yet another notion that neither
Emerson nor any previous generation ever thought of: namely, if the universe as we know it
issued forth from an absolute singularity wherein time, space and matter were all
compressed into an infinitesimal point which suddenly burgeoned forth in an initial
explosion known as the Big Bang, then it may be that there are billions of universes in
other space-time dimensions that came forth from yet other singularities, a veritable Big
Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang, ad infinitum. Next time you watch another 4th of July Fireworks
display put on by the Boston Pops at the esplanade think of that possibility. Of course,
that is something we can never know, but the mere thought of it is absolutely
mind-blowing. Years ago J.B.
Phillips wrote a book called, IS YOUR GOD TOO SMALL? It may be that our God is too small
for even a universe of a hundred billion galaxies.
The poet, Mark Van Doren, captured something of this staggering notion in his poem
"The God of Galaxies":
The god of galaxies--how shall we praise him?
For so we must, or wither. Yet what word
Of words? And where to send it...?
Let us consider it...And say it without voice.
Praise universes/Numberless. Praise all of them.
Carl Sagan refers to an apocryphal story about a Western traveler who asks an Oriental
philosopher to describe the nature of the world. He tells him that the world is a great
ball resting on the flat back of an enormous turtle. "Ah," his questioner
inquires, "but what does the world turtle stand on?" "On the back of a
still larger turtle", the philosopher tells him. "Yes, but what does he stand
on?" And the philosopher says, "It's no use to continue with your questions,
it's turtles all the way down." Well, in Carl Sagan's cosmos we can say it's
galaxies, quasars and quarks all the way up and down.
Carl Sagan credits his parents, (who were not scientists themselves, and only one step out
of poverty), for encouraging him in his desire to become an astronomer, even though
"they had only the most rudimentary idea of what an astronomer does." They
helped plant the seeds of his future career by taking him to the 1939 New York World's
Fair which "offered a vision of a perfect future made possible by science and high
technology." Though that vision has yet to be realized it marked the beginning of
Sagan's lifelong love affair with science. Sagan had a gift for being able to relate the
concepts and
ideas of science and astronomy to the average person in ways that were both understandable
and exciting. His enthusiasm for the world revealed to us by science was infectious. His
PBS series on COSMOS was watched by millions. He often wrote pieces for PARADE magazine
that were easy to grasp. And he was working on the film adaptation of his novel, CONTACT,
starring Jodie Foster, when he died.
Those of you who saw the movie will recall that the main character, a female
astronomer, Ellie Arroway, takes a journey in a mysterious machine (the plans for building
it having been transmitted to earth from an intelligent civilization in the region of the
star Vega). The machine takes her through worm holes and space warps faster than the speed
of light, to Vega and beyond. Her encounter with the wonder of the universe is a truly
numinous spiritual experience. Not only does she see galaxies and star clusters of
incredible color and beauty, but she encounters the physical likeness of her deceased
father who relates to her the wisdom of the higher intelligence and beings that brought
her to this point.
In the novel Sagan alludes to "an intelligence that antedates the universe",
something he never came to affirm in his real life as an astronomer. He remained an
agnostic all of his life. Nonetheless, he believed strongly that there was no inherent
conflict between science and spirituality and that only in the wedding of skepticism (the
impulse behind the quest for truth) with wonder (the sense of awe for the mystery of life
and being) could a scientific and religious orientation grounded in truth be won. Speaking
of the relationship between science and spirituality Sagan wrote: In its encounter with
Nature, science invariably elicits a sense of reverence and awe. They very act of
understanding is a celebration of joining, merging, even if on a very modest scale, with
the magnificence of the Cosmos....Science is not only compatible with spirituality; it is
a profound source of spirituality. When we recognize our place in an immensity of
light-years and in the passage of ages, when we grasp the intricacy, beauty, and subtlety
of life, then that soaring feeling, that sense of elation and humility combined, is surely
spiritual. The notion that science and spirituality are somehow mutually exclusive does a
disservice to both.
Sagan was always careful to distinguish his viewpoint as an agnostic from that of atheism.
"An atheist, " he said, "is someone who is certain that God does not exist,
someone who has compelling evidence against the existence of God. I know of no such
compelling evidence....To be certain of the existence [or nonexistence] of God seem(s) to
me to be the confident extremes in a subject so riddled with doubt and uncertainty as to
inspire very little confidence indeed." Thus he remained a "doubting
Thomas" agnostic to his dying day. Sagan loved the story about the British
mathematician and philosopher, Bertrand Russell, who, after participating in an illegal
peace protest, was asked by his jailer what his religion was. Russell replied,
"Agnostic", and spelled it for him. The jailer shook his head and said,
"There's many different religions, but I suppose we all worship the same God."
Russell commented that the remark cheered him for weeks.
Sagan never lived to see his novel made into a film, but, along with his scientist wife,
Ann Druyan, he had met with Jodie Foster and the film crew and offered his advice and
contagious enthusiasm for the project. All of them were caught up in his vision. I
appreciated the dialogue between science and religion that the movie and the novel and
Sagan's other writings have opened up. Sagan has often said that there is no necessary
conflict between science and religion so long as both are intent upon the pursuit of
truth. Sagan once asked the Dali Lama what he would do if science was able to disprove a
central tenet of their Buddhist faith, and he replied, "Tibetan Buddhism would have
to change." Sagan pressed him further. "Even if it were a really central tenet,
like reincarnation?", he asked. "Even then," said the Dali Lama. However,
he added with a twinkle, "it's going to be hard to disprove reincarnation."
Which Sagan readily acceded.
Reincarnation and God, concluded Sagan, are "difficult alike to demonstrate or to dismiss." Sagan's metaphysical position might better be characterized as that of a reverent agnostic. What Sagan argued for on the part of both scientists and religious adherents was a sense of humility in the face of such profound mysteries as the origin and end of life and the universe. He quotes from the Hindu Rig Veda which asks: Who knows for certain? Who shall here declare it? Whence was it born, whence came creation? No one knows whence creation arose; and whether god has or has not made it. He who surveys it from the lofty skies, only he knows--or perhaps he knows not.
I think it could be argued that science, at least biological science, should at least have
the humility to admit that evolution might not just be the result of pure accident and
blind chance, but could be the expression of a hidden divine purpose. Increasing
complexity of life forms leads to increasing levels of consciousness which reaches its
apex in the human. Is this all due to mere chance or is there an underlying implicate
order that aims towards cosmic consciousness? Science rules the idea of cosmic purpose and
meaning out of court from the very beginning. Since the data can be read both ways should
not science at least admit it could be mistaken in its view. How does science know that
evolution has no underlying spiritual purpose or plan? That is something that science as
science cannot know, it can only assume. Carl Sagan at least had the humility to admit
that the cosmic process could be interpreted and understood with or without the assumption
of a divine purpose. Sagan put it this way: I see the emergence in our consciousness
of a Universe of a magnificence, and an intricate, elegant order far beyond anything our
ancestors imagined. And if much of the Universe can be understood in terms of a few simple
laws of Nature, those wishing to believe in God can certainly ascribe those beautiful laws
to a Reason underpinning all of Nature.
Sagan likes to compare science with democracy. Both are imperfect ways of seeking truth
and organizing governance, but they are the best we have for doing those very things.
Science has a built-in error correcting mechanism at the heart of its empirical method. If
you find out that a formerly held treasured hypothesis fails to hold up in the face of new
data, then science must revise its hypothesis and seek new empirical evidence to
corroborate its theory. Religion, he argues, has no such self-corrective mechanism for
revising its doctrines to fit new evidence. That's not entirely true, at least not at the
moral level. The prophetic tradition, which is common to all three western
faiths--Judaism, Christianity and Islam--has a self-critical tradition for calling both
religion and society to moral accountability in terms of how we treat the poor, the
oppressed and downtroden. When it comes to love and justice the prophets want nothing to
do with mere rites and rituals and ceremony. They want to see compassion and justice put
into practice and action. "Let justice flow down like waters and righteousness like
an ever flowing stream."
It could be argued that science as such has no moral perspective in terms of what its
knowledge and technology are used for. Science, after all, made the H-bomb, the most
horrific weapon ever made. It should never have been made. But now that it is made, it
should never be used. Science as science cannot decide that question. It is a moral
question and any moral sense which scientists have in this regard they got from their
culture, and the culture got it from religion. Science needs the ethical critique of
religion just as religion needs the truth telling critique of science. Even Pope John Paul
II has said, "Science can purify religion from error and superstition; religion can
purify science from idolatry and false absolutes. Each can draw the other into a wider
world, a world in which both can flourish."
In his last book Sagan referred to an alliance between science and religion--the
preserving and cherishing of the earth--which both can embrace with knowledge and
commitment. "Science and religion," noted
Sagan, "may differ about how the Earth was made, but we can agree that protecting it
merits our profound attention and loving care." He was heartened to see an emerging
interfaith response between different faith traditions, known as The National Religious
Partnership for the Environment", and the scientific community, to the cause of
environmental justice and integrity. It was a cause dear to his heart.
Like Emerson, Carl Sagan came face to face with death, not the death of his wife or
children, but the reality of his own impending death. He was diagnosed with
"myelodyplasia", a preleukemic condition. He struggled for two years of
treatment for his illness including bone marrow transplants from his sister, but
eventually his immune system weakened and he came down with a resistant strain of
pneumonia that took him to his grave. He had been in and out of Hutchinson Cancer Research
Center in Seattle numerous times in those two years. Many people of all faiths prayed for
his recovery which he took note of in his last book published after his death:Five
thousand people prayed for me at an Easter service at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine
in New York City, the largest church in Christendom. A Hindu priest described a large
prayer vigil for me held on the banks of the Ganges. The Immam of N. America told me about
his prayers for my recovery. Many Christians and Jews wrote me to tell about theirs. While
I do not think that, if there is a god, his plan for me will be altered by prayer, I'm
more grateful then I can say to those--including so many whom I've never met--who have
pulled for me during my illness.
Though he rallied briefly during his last stay at the Center Sagan knew that the end was
near. He said to his beloved wife and science partner of 20 years, Ann Druyan, "This
is a deathwatch. I'm going to die." When she tried to encourage him by declaring that
he was going to beat it just as he had many times before, he said to her in a voice of
knowing good humor and skepticism, and not a trace of self-pity, "Well, we'll see
who's right about this one." What mattered to Sagan in facing his death, as he had
tried to face life, was not what would make him feel better, but what was true. And the
truth was his wondrous and fulfilling life as a husband, father and brilliant scientist
was drawing to a close at age 62. His wife, and now his widow, Ann Druyan, takes comfort
in the fact that so many people, who have written to her, credit Carl Sagan for their
awakenings and that his example has inspired them to work for science and reason against
the forces of superstition and fundamentalism. "These thoughts", she says,
"comfort me and lift me up out of my heartache. They allow me to feel, without
resorting to the supernatural, that Carl lives."
"I will lift up my hands and say Kosmos." Unitarian Universalists have always
believed that the truths of science and religion must be ultimately consonant with one
another. God cannot be less than truth, truth cannot be less than love, and love cannot be
less than life. Source of all being, you who extend to galaxies and universes without end,
and who resideth no less in the human breast, help us to feel and to know that all our
beginnings and endings begin and end in thee, and that we are no farther from you than our
latest breath and the beating of our hearts. Amen.