2 of 3

In your 1999 paper "Nerd Theology" you use another computer concept, information, as a metaphor for God. How does that apply?

The public at large's acceptance of the notion of information actually gives us ways to understand God. First of all, what is information? The kinds of ways you would describe it are the ways we would describe God: there's no material, it's a force, it has a power.

We can use concepts of information to describe God. It is not fair to say they are equal because obviously a bit on a CD is not God. When I talk about the universality of computation as something that is shared and fundamental I am not suggesting that God is computation other than to say that computation is one way we can think about God.

From where have you learned the most about God?

I came to my belief fairly late in life, so my influences actually came from spending huge amounts of time in other religions in Asia. As a photographer there, I spent inordinate amounts of time hanging out at temples, mosques, monasteries, etc. That has a lot of influence.

Science fiction also played a critical role, because it seemed to me that science-fiction authors are actually the theologians of our age. They grapple with the "what ifs." They look at how technology changes our lives and changes our minds.

Theologians employed in academia seem to be far more remote and not engaged with actual changes occurring. I would guess that Star Trek and Gene Roddenberry have much more of an effect. People actually listen and pay attention to their theological musings, which is a lot of what science fiction is. What do we do when we meet other intelligence? What does it mean to be a human? These questions are much better addressed by science fiction.

I would say that the influence of other religions in practice and science fiction was as influential for me as Bible studies and sermons. In that sense, I am probably not alone.

How did these influences lead up to what happened in Jerusalem on Easter morning, 1979?

That's a story I don't think I could tell any better than the one I told on NPR. I simply couldn't tell it any better. But what happened is something I don't really have a good explanation for. I would call it a surrender or an acceptance.

I think you can make two models of the universe: you can make an entirely logical argument that there is no God, [or you could make an] equally logical argument of a genesis and a creation of the world. In the end, it comes down to a decision that one makes. You go down one road and within that road, everything makes complete sense.

I think that is sort of what I did. It took going to Jerusalem on Easter morning out to the empty tombs to really trigger an acceptance of this alternative view. Once I accepted it, there is a logic, comfort, leverage that I have because of that view.

Why did it take this experience to convince you?

I don't have a good explanation. I was older, and I was a reluctant convert. I am sort of an intellectual type. I don't know why Jerusalem, but that's what it took.

I have no idea why I fell in love with my wife. Why her? She is probably the least likely. I could have spent years and years trying to imagine who I would marry and never come up with her. So why?

It is really strange why these things happen. I am not sure it is important if there is a logical explanation. I think I am a person who likes to see things in action and to have first-hand experience. I am more interested in basing things on my experiences rather than just what someone told me.

next page... |  2 of 3

share this page

November (Web-only) 2002, Vol. 46