|
Bertrand Russell
The Theologian's Nightmare
from "Fact and Fiction", 1961
The eminent theologian Dr. Thaddeus dreamt that he died and pursued his course
toward heaven. His studies had prepared him and he had no difficulty in finding
the way. He knocked at the door of heaven, and was met with a closer scrutiny
than he expected. "I ask admission," he said, "because I was a
good man and devoted my life to the glory of God." "Man?" said
the janitor, "What is that? And how could such a funny creature as you do
anything to promote the glory of God?" Dr. Thaddeus was astonished.
"You surely cannot be ignorant of man. You must be aware that man is the
supreme work of the Creator." "As to that," said the janitor,
"I am sorry to hurt your feelings, but what you're saying is news to me. I
doubt if anybody up here has ever heard of this thing you call 'man.' However,
since you seem distressed, you shall have a chance of consulting our
librarian."
The librarian, a globular being with a thousand eyes and one mouth, bent some
of his eyes upon Dr. Thaddeus. "What is this?" he asked the janitor.
"This," replied the janitor, "says that it is a member of a
species called 'man,' which lives in a place called 'Earth.' It has some odd
notion that the Creator takes a special interest in this place and this
species. I thought perhaps you could enlighten it." "Well," said
the librarian kindly to the theologian, "perhaps you can tall me where
this place is that you call 'Earth.'" "Oh," said the theologian,
"it's part of the Solar System." "And what is the Solar
System?" asked the librarian. "Oh," said the theologian,
somewhat disconcerted, "my province was Sacred Knowledge, but the question
that you are asking belongs to profane knowledge. However, I have learnt enough
from my astronomical friends to be able to tell you that the Solar System is
part of the Milky Way." "And what is the Milky Way?" asked the
librarian. "Oh, the Milky Way is one of the Galaxies, of which, I am told,
there are some hundred million." "Well, well," said the
librarian, "you could hardly expect me to remember one out of so many. But
I do remember to have heard the word galaxy' before. In fact, I believe that
one of our sub-librarians specializes in galaxies. Let us send for him and see
whether he can help."
After no very long time, the galactic sub-librarian made his appearance. In
shape, he was a dodecahedron. It was clear that at one time his surface had
been bright, but the dust of the shelves had rendered him dim and opaque. The
librarian explained to him that Dr. Thaddeus, in endeavoring to account for his
origin, had mentioned galaxies, and it was hoped that information could be
obtained from the galactic section of the library. "Well," said the
sub-librarian, "I suppose it might become possible in time, but as there
are a hundred million galaxies, and each has a volume to itself, it takes some
time to find any particular volume. Which is it that this odd molecule
desires?" "It is the one called 'The Milky Way,'" Dr. Thaddeus
falteringly replied. "All right," said the sub- librarian, "I
will find it if I can."
Some three weeks later, he returned, explaining that the extraordinarily
efficient card index in the galactic section of the library had enabled him to
locate the galaxy as number QX 321,762. "We have employed," he said,
"all the five thousand clerks in the galactic section on this search.
Perhaps you would like to see the clerk who is specially concerned with the
galaxy in question?" The clerk was sent for and turned out to be an
octahedron with an eye in each face and a mouth in one of them. He was
surprised and dazed to find himself in such a glittering region, away from the
shadowy limbo of his shelves. Pulling himself together, he asked, rather shyly,
"What is it you wish to know about my galaxy?" Dr. Thaddeus spoke up:
"What I want is to know about the Solar System, a collection of heavenly
bodies revolving about one of the stars in your galaxy. The star about which
they revolve is called 'the Sun.'" "Humph," said the librarian
of the Milky Way, "it was hard enough to hit upon the right galaxy, but to
hit upon the right star in the galaxy is far more difficult. I know that there
are about three hundred billion stars in the galaxy, but I have no knowledge,
myself, that would distinguish one of them from another. I believe, however,
that at one time a list of the whole three hundred billion was demanded by the
Administration and that it is still stored in the basement. If you think it
worth while, I will engage special labor from the Other Place to search for
this particular star."
It was agreed that, since the question had arisen and since Dr. Thaddeus was
evidently suffering some distress, this might be the wisest course.
Several years later, a very weary and dispirited tetrahedron presented himself
before the galactic sub-librarian. "I have," he said, "at last
discovered the particular star concerning which inquiries have been made, but I
am quite at a loss to imagine why it has aroused any special interest. It
closely resembles a great many other stars in the same galaxy. It is of average
size and temperature, and is surrounded by very much smaller bodies called
'planets.' After minute investigation, I discovered that some, at least, of
these planets have parasites, and I think that this thing which has been making
inquiries must be one of them."
At this point, Dr. Thaddeus burst out in a passionate and indignant lament:
"Why, oh why, did the Creator conceal from us poor inhabitants of Earth
that it was not we who prompted Him to create the Heavens? Throughout my long
life, I have served Him diligently, believing that He would notice my service
and reward me with Eternal Bliss. And now, it seems that He was not even aware
that I existed. You tell me that I am an infinitesimal animalcule on a tiny
body revolving round an insignificant member of a collection of three hundred
billion stars, which is only one of many millions of such collections. I cannot
bear it, and can no longer adore my Creator." "Very well," said
the janitor, "then you can go to the Other Place."
Here the theologian awoke. "The power of Satan over our sleeping
imagination is terrifying," he muttered.
|