Extra terrestrial theology

Do not be misled by the title of this post - it is by no means an admission that I am in outer space most of the time (though, when one not only walks at right angles to the world, as did Francis, but is very into mystic theology, this tends to be perfectly true.) I'm recalling a situation I found highly amusing, and which nearly had me rolling on the floor screaming when I realised that some of those involved were taking it all perfectly seriously.

As a preamble, in the early days of the Internet I recall a discussion, on a theology forum, regarding life on other planets. In case this wasn't obvious, I love presenting, defending, or refuting theological arguments as much as the next person, but one such as that has real potential for being great fun. Since no one knows a thing about the topic, naturally they haven't a clue about what is true or what theological significance it may have, so possibilities and clever mental gymnastics have endless potential. Of course, despite thousands of years of scripture study and theological speculation, I think we all know, deep down, that 'epistemic distance' (I love that term) means we never know too much in any case, but developing themes affecting beings on planets unknown makes us admit this to ourselves, which we otherwise seldom do.

Of course, some of those participating were playing a game, just as was I - and among those were very clever, witty souls who really were doing so superbly. The trick was figuring out who was playing and who wasn't, and I sometimes mistook those who were not only serious but feared having their faith placed in danger for joining in the fun. How anyone could see faith as endangered under such circumstances is beyond me - they tended to be the sorts who wanted to know what was 'according to the mind of the Church,' but, to my knowledge, the Church never pronounced on human beings in any worlds except earth, heaven, and purgatory (that last being the most creative, since it involved an entire judicial system binding on the dead - and you thought disputes about authority today were extreme...) Since the existence of hell is assumed, but there's never any statement about anyone's being there except for fallen angels, even that territory remained unexplored. Granted - I've met or read the works of people, some in quite prominent Church positions, others popular authors, about whom I'd have no trouble imagining origins in some distant galaxy (and I don't mean realms celestial), but I've yet to see any scholar attempt to delve into what might be happening on some planet light-years away.

I'm not scientific in the least, and don't have a particularly vivid imagination, so the topics discussed were even weirder than some of the philosophical speculation about the after-life or resurrection. What about 'the fall'? Did Jesus' death redeem those on a planet he did not inhabit? Would those on other planets not be redeemed, or did they not 'fall' in the first place? Would believing Jesus was a source of cosmic redemption work if it involved beings on other planets, or would that be a heretical belief in parallel universes? (Heretical? Even Bernardo Guidoni never expressed a desire to burn those in other solar systems, and I cannot recall a word, even in the most appalling Inquisition accounts, about 'parallel universes.')

I'm just sorry that everyone there wasn' t playing - these lines of reasoning could have been really challenging and hilarious.

Recalling this reminded me of a yet older memory, which pre-dates the Internet but not space travel. In one church where I served, we did have some very vocal members who were always concerned about threats to the faith, often in areas which most of us had never considered. One lady, to whom I'll give the fictitious name of Alice (in my age group - sometimes the young, which we were then, can fear the collapse of the solid, old ways more than those who'd think 'if we'd known those were the good old days, we'd have enjoyed them more') was both obsessive about error and incredibly prudish. (I think she found her large brood of children in the cabbage patch. She once protested because a plastic model of a foetus had visible male organs, so I further assume her kids were born dressed.)

Pat, the most useful and delightful man on the planet, loved a row, and made sure he found ways to start them. Alice wasn't one to list her sources, but she'd heard somewhere that it was heretical to believe there could be life on other planets. It had some connection with how, had mankind not fallen, the entire universe would have been our playground. (I am guessing that was both a weak and faulty connection - there must have been a cross battery somewhere.) Pat, of course, was insisting to Alice that life on other planets just had to exist, and she was becoming very earnest.

Finally, Alice asked the priest (who knew her all too well) if it wasn't heresy to believe there could be life on another planet. Aiming at his specific target all too well, he replied, "Those on other planets never committed original sin, so they walk around without clothes on. We can't see them because we're concupiscent." (Bear with the poor man. Some time earlier, Alice had asked him if it was all right to have sex before one receives communion, to which he'd responded, "just as long as you don't block the aisles.")