Weinberg writes, "Let's grant that science and religion are not incompatible—there are after all some (though not many) excellent scientists, like Charles Townes and Francis Collins, who have strong religious beliefs."

I'm not sure what he means by "some (thought not many) excellent scientists," beyond his estimation of his immediate associates or some sense of the most famous. I grew up in the communities of scientists and researchers of a major state land grant university and a major national research laboratory, and within those communities alone there were many excellent scientists - in the sense of doing good research, following proper procedures and reaching meaningful results, and getting regularly published - who were persons of deep faith. Indeed, it was a colleague of my father's, one who had been with him when both were pursuing their doctorates, who introduced my family to his family's Episcopal parish. I continue to work in health care, another arena of "excellent scientists," in which some sense of faith is the norm rather than the exception.

I acknowledge the tensions noted; but to describe reflective scientists as opposed to non-reflective people of faith is to maintain the same "us vs. them" polarity that has characterized the discussion for a long time.

Weinberg writes of "the special role of man, as an actor created by God to play a starring part in a great cosmic drama of sin and salvation."

I see a response to that issue in the writings of CS Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle who both saw Humanity's fall from the place God had assigned us - and earth - in God's plan as having no effect on other planets.

Of course our primitive mythology makes us look important but - we know this from Star Trek - as we mature, we'll realise we're not that central at all. As a race we are important to God - as important as any others. So God chose to save us... but that doesn't mean the rest of the universe needs saving.

Man's role in the "Great Cosmic Drama" is revealed to pertain only to him. But that discounts neither the importance of his salvation nor the reality of the Cosmic issues.

By citing fictional works of Roddenberry, Lewis and L'Engle, I don't mean to make light of this. But his claim is as mythological as our own in this matter. Until we meet a race that is Not Fallen - and until we can know they are not - we might as well imagine mankind's claims of a central role in this drama to be valid.

Until we meet a race that is Not Fallen - and until we can know they are not - we might as well imagine mankind's claims of a central role in this drama to be valid.

A challenging concept, to be sure.

From my humble POV, I think I would have difficulty accepting another life-form AS a "race" (that is, as sentient beings), unless they had the Freedom to choose Right from Wrong---which could, in turn, only be known through comparison (they were free to choose Right from Wrong, only because they had chosen Wrong, in hindsight).

I honestly think that---whatever our SciFi fantasies---the odds of communicating w/ another intelligent life-form are so infinitesimally small, that we will never have to deal w/ the "Is Jesus ONLY the Savior of Earth?" question. ;-/

JC Fisher

It's hard to put my finger on just what this means, but I found reading Weinberg's articulation of his skepticism comforting in a way, or maybe grounding. I felt like I was in the territory that got early Christians (like Buddhists) judged to be atheists. And I remembered Farley Mowat in Never Cry Wolf feeling so overwhelmed at the vast beauty of the northern territories in Canada that he said he wanted to cry 'THANK YOU' at the top of his lungs, though he didn't believe there was any cosmic ear to hear him. There's a place where tragic skepticism, humbly held, starts to converge toward faith.

(I think I accidentally erased this post when I signed in). Something about the way Weinberg writes his skepticism seems more gift than challenge, comforting even. It reminds me that the earliest Christians were judged atheists by Roman society, as Buddhists are often declared atheists. I think an open-hearted skepticism, a genuine love for people and a grateful appreciation of beauty starts to converge toward faith. I'm reminded of Farley Mowat in Never Cry Wolf describing how he couldn't help but cry out a huge THANK YOU to the empty beauty of the northern territories, even though he believed though was no maker or divine ear to hear him.