\documentstyle{article}
\begin{document}

\title{Faith and Fascination$^1$}
\author{Heino Falcke}
\date{Dept. of Astronomy, University of Maryland, College Park, 
MD~20742-2421, USA (hfalcke@astro.umd.edu)}
\maketitle

\section{Introduction}

{\it\footnotesize This article about the interaction between science
and religion will appear in a book celebrating the 10th anniversary of
the ``Vatican Observatory Summer School for Observational Astronomy and
Astrophysics''. The school is held every two years in the Papal Palace
in Castel Gandolfo near Rome. Three senior scientists plus the
Observatory staff teach roughly 25 students from many different
countries for one month.}\bigskip

\footnotetext[1]{to appear in the book commemorating the 10th
anniversay of the Vatican Observatory Summer School, Comeron F. \&
Maggio L. (eds.), Publication of the Vatican Observatory, in prep.}
When writing about the Vatican Observatory Summer School, one would
think the central theme would be ``science and religion''. Well, it is
not. Even though we were studying in the heart of the papal palace in
Castel Gandolfo, and even though we were surrounded by Jesuits,
religion was apparently not an issue. However, in retrospect I think
that the concept of this Summer School achieved something
remarkable. When 25 students from almost as many different countries,
work together, play together, talk together for one month in this
setting, it may not have led to instant conversions, but it taught us
something about how a community of so different talents,
nationalities, and interests can work together in peace and harmony --
most of the time. So, without the gospel of peace being preached, it
was put into action, and it was experienced at work.

Just the presence of the Vatican Observatory and its Jesuit staff,
however, was a constant reminder of the fact that science is just one
part of the world. And when you realize that this staff had been
actively involved in reopening the case against Galileo, you know that
you are standing on historical ground. Indeed, the interaction between
science and religion has a long history in which every scientist will
have a part on one side or the other. I consider myself fortunate
that, as a protestant/evangelical Christian and an astronomer, I find
myself on both sides of the aisle. Hence, I want to take the
opportunity to describe in this paper, why I believe religion has
a lot to give to science and especially to astronomy. There are two
points I want to elaborate (three points would make a sermon). First,
I want to suggest that the driving forces for both, astronomy and
religion, are the same: fascination for the infinite and the
incomprehensible and the quest to know where we belong to. Secondly, I
want to warn that science without religion, although celebrated as a
liberation by some, has its dangers, especially when science claims to have
the monopoly on truth.


\section{Fascination -- the common root}
Recently we published HST images of a Seyfert galaxy which showed
spectacular strands of emission-line gas forming a figure eight on one
side. I was quite pleased with the results and the pictures looked
really neat, but while writing this article I started to think about
it: a ``figure eight'' -- this sounds like Sesame Street on children's
TV (``this Galaxy was brought to you by NASA and the Number 8''). Yes,
we love to describe astronomical objects in simple, figurative terms
(``Pistol'', ``Sickle'', ``Tornado'', ``Sombrero'', just to name a few
galactic and extragalactic names). We publish and discuss nice, little
pictures of objects which in reality are larger than anything we can
imagine.  In my mind the huge emission-line region of a distant galaxy
is probably not very different from a little lady-bug. In this respect
we are not different from the first astronomers (or better
astrologers?) who projected funny drawings onto the sky. Moreover,
many astronomers have their ``pet-objects'' (mine is Sgr A* of course)
which they love and cherish.  This all allows us to relate to the
objects we talk about, it makes us believe we understand and know
these gigantic structures, just like we know our pets. It makes us
feel that they belong to us, that we control them like the objects
that surround us and form {\it our} world. How arrogant of us!  What
we consider our little toys, are objects so large and so far away,
that we are nothing more than an infinitesimally small
perturbation. We cannot look at these objects as an engineer looks at
an engine he designed, because we will never touch them, we will never
change them, we will never conquer them.  We can only watch and
wonder.\footnote{This reminded a friend of mine of a fellow astronomer
who talked to a bunch of engineers and got asked the question: ``Since
the stars are so far away and we can't fix them, what is the point of
studying them?''} Sure, we know that, but do we really know that?

History, and the history of science in particular has taught us that
 the human spirit will eventually overcome every problem and we will
 boldly go where no one has gone before.  We have learned to fly, we
 have landed on the moon, we have (very quickly) ignited the solar
 fire, and we have commanded elementary particles and captured single
 protons. Do we understand that we never will fill the vastness of the
 universe? Do we understand that there are places where we never will
 and never should be the masters?  God gave us the earth, the universe
 belongs to him. I believe the understanding of this basic limitation
 makes astronomy different from any other science and once in a while
 we should make sure that we still have the right attitude towards the
 objects of our research. It is probably necessary to reduce the
 universe to a few numbers and instructive sketches to do our work,
 but what drives astronomy is the fascination of the nightly
 promenader who looks into the sky and wonders and asks questions we
 can never fully answer. If we take away that simple fascination we
 would also take away one of the foundations astronomy is based upon.

In this ultimate motivation that drives astronomy, religion and
science start to touch each other. As a child I spent sleepless nights
thinking about some old questions which we probably all had: Is the
universe infinite? If not, what is beyond the universe? How did it
start and who started it? Is there a God and what am I compared to all
this? As it used to be for many centuries, in my childish mind the
questions about God and about the world that surrounded me were not
separated. Those questions were not fighting against each other,
instead, they were stimulating each other and producing a burning
desire for answers. This fire cannot burn forever and these questions
will stop eventually. The fire will get almost extinguished by
every-days duties, by disappointment, disillusion, fear of the future,
and the desire to be more successful. But I am convinced a few sparks of
this fire are still glowing in the darkness of any soul, even in those
of scientists, and in a few special moments it can light up
again. Maybe that is even what we are living and striving for --- to
feel the fascination and the wonder for the creation that surrounds us
in its full power, just one more time.

I still do find this fascination in looking up to the stars, I find it
when I make a scientific discovery I was seeking for a long time,
and I found this fascination when I discovered for the first time that
God is real. Whether I discover the Creator or his creation does not
make such a big difference in the way I experience it.

Am I a fool, talking about astronomy in such an emotional way?
Perhaps, but then I am not the only fool. I meet quite a few
astronomers -- many more than I first thought -- who feel religious in
one way or another. There are some like me, who believe that the Bible
is God's word, where real people describe their real experiences with
God, and who believe in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, as
the ultimate love, hope, and purpose in this world. However, I also
meet others, who have spent quite some time thinking about God,
developing their own religious beliefs. They do not want to identify
themselves with traditional religions, and are afraid of the possibly
harmful reactions of fellow scientists to their ideas.  Others are
still asking. Apparently knowing that they are missing something, they
were just curious. They keep a ``friendly contact'' with religion and
once in while think about theological questions but have never found a
chance to dig deeper. Of course I also meet those who apparently are
not interested, and those who outrightly oppose any religious
thoughts, those who give young astronomers the impression that the
scientific honor code requires one to abstain from having faith in
anything.

I do not object that someone objects to me, my ideas, and my faith,
but I strongly object when anyone tries to impose an ideological
straitjacket on science and scientists. Of course, the presentation
and discussion of any finding should follow commonly accepted
scientific rules, but just because a scientific paper should be free
of feelings, emotions, and beliefs, this does not mean that science,
should dictate my personal feelings, emotions, and beliefs.
Not every question in life can be answered scientifically. Science has
to recognize and accept this limitation, otherwise, science itself
turns into a scientific religion -- this would not only be an
oxymoron, it would also be dangerous.

\section{The danger of science without religion}


The often suggested image of ourselves that emerges from such a purely
scientific world-view is that we are just an ensemble of protons and
electrons; we are nothing but a very efficient computer. This
conclusion which some scientists promote, is, of course, the result of a
circular argument. Modern science is based on the exclusion of
anything which is not measurable, repeatable, and quantifyable
(something a few modern cosmologies tend to forget), and hence the
only things scientists will ever find are those which are measurable,
repeatable, and quantifyable.  As scientists we have {\it ab initio}
defined the world to be that way, yet, some misuse this as a
conclusion and claim that their restricted world is the whole
world. That is the moment where science turns into religion (sometimes
called ``scientism'') and scientists can turn into zealots.

Marvin Minsky, a Professor at MIT, for example, may be one of the more
extreme proponents of this scientific religion.  In an article in the
{\it Scientific American} (October 1994), he preached his vision
that ``in the end, we will find ways to replace every part of the body
and brain and thus repair all the defects and injuries that make our
lives so brief'' (p. 111). He basically dreamed of the final
evolutionary step from humans to computers --- our mind-children. He
went on to say that ``we must change our ideas about making additional
children. Individuals now are conceived by chance. Someday, instead,
they could be `composed' in accord with considered desires and
designs'' (p. 113) and he asked ``How many people should occupy the
earth? What sorts of people should they be?''. Humans turned roboters,
and designing of children? Minsky was apparently carried away by his
own success in creating ``artificial intelligence''. His scenario, if
considered with all its consequences, sounds like a bad movie, where a
genius with mad-scientist-disease tries to create his own, brave new
world (thank God, we have James Bond and Captain Piccard!).

Certainly, as a Christian and a German, who is very aware of his
nation's recent history, I may be more sensitive to some issues,
especially if it comes to creating a new and better race, but can we
really afford to let scientists like Minsky define humanity? I am
convinced the consequences would be terrifying. I remember very well
one late-night conversation with one astronomer and Minsky follower,
who believed that he himself and every other human being is nothing
but a machine --- a walking computer. ``So what do you do if the
computer is broken or outdated?''  was my question, and sure enough,
the logical answer was, ``Throw them away!''. Maybe it is consistent
with this philosophy to throw those away who some consider not fit for
life, but I categorically deny anybody's right to play God
himself. What kind of society would we have to live in, if it were
shaped by prophets-turned scientists who do not know where their
limits are?  Fascination may be an important driving force of science,
but if it runs out of control it could take us hostage.

\section{Personal conclusion}
I believe the best recipe to prevent us from being carried away by our
own glory and megalomania is to stand in awe before the majesty of the
universe and to humble ourselves before the One who created it.
Christianity gives me the necessary, ethical guidelines for my work,
as well as the values I will not find by looking into the sky. Faith
fills my personal needs and takes away some of the anxiety, cynicism,
and arrogance that often control us more than reason. Sure, there is a
constant battle between my ideals and the way I actually behave (it is
sometimes so difficult not to to talk in a derogatory manner about
certain colleagues, isn't it?), but just as a good peer-review can
improve a scientific paper substantially, an occasional
``superior-review'' of our lives can have a very positive effect on
ourselves.

Therefore, being a Christian and an astronomer is to me a wonderful
combination and not a problem. Discovering God is always the discovery
of a lifetime; after that, anything else we find is just an
interesting extra, since we are only rediscovering what He already
knows. Reading the Bible and communing with God is to me as exciting
as looking through a telescope, because it opens a window to a world
the telescope cannot see. For me this is a very productive and natural
way to deal with the curiosity and fascination that is still inside
me, it has a place in God --- the place where I think it belongs, and
the place where it is kept alive.
\bigskip

{\it Acknowledgement:} I thank Barabara and Martin Gaskell for
correcting some of my worst grammatical errors and ``Germanisms''.
\end{document}

