A Powerhouse of a Book

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell is one of the more remarkable books I have read recently. As I said last week I am surprised that I hadn't found out about it before the Speaking of Faith program a few weeks ago. It has been around for 13 years and has quite a following. I can see why.

In brief it is about the first human-alien contact, initiated by the Jesuits following the discovery of music from a planet in the vicinity of Alpha Centauri. Wikipedia adds:

Only one of the crew, Father Emilio Sandoz, a priest, survives to return to Earth, and he is damaged physically and psychologically. The story is told in framed flashback, with chapters alternating between the story of the expedition and the story of Sandoz' interrogation by the Jesuit order's inquest, set up in 2059 to find the truth. Sandoz' return has sparked great controversy – not just because the Jesuits sent the mission independent of United Nations oversight, but also because the mission ended disastrously.

Mary Russell is an interesting person in her own right. She is trained as a paleoanthropologist with excellent scientific credentials. She was born Roman Catholic but has since become Jewish, one of the topics discussed on Speaking of Faith. As a result of all this her book, as Wikpedia comments from Library Journal:

was mistakenly categorized as science fiction, and that it is really "a philosophical novel about the nature of good and evil and what happens when a man tries to do the right thing, for the right reasons and ends up causing incalculable harm".

It may be one of the more exciting theology books I've read in a very long time. In the midst of everything else there is a challenging exploration of "God's Will", the power of confession, being a "saint" and that powerful phrase from Aeschylus that wisdom comes through the "awful grace of God.

This is all found in the central character, Emilio Sandoz. In Sandoz is the search for faith that most of us never even bother to begin. It is one that comes from the depths of a soul battered and bruised- and in the end even broken. What does God have to do with all this? How does God even fit in? Sandoz was very aware of his own agnosticism, an important step of honesty in his faith. But he was also willing to cry with the ancient witness, "Lord, I believe. Help me in my disbelief."

Other characters, too, struggle. One of them, Dr. Anne Edwards, after the discovery of the songs from space wondered about how these could even be considered a sign from God. It may be one of the most important passages in the book to understanding what it is all about:

Once, long ago, [Anne had] allowed herself to think seriously about what humans would do, confronted directly with a sign of God's presence in their lives. ... God was at Sinai and within weeks, people were dancing in front of a golden calf. God walked in Jerusalem and days later, folk nailed Him up and then went back to work. Faced with the Divine, people took refuge in the banal, as though answering a cosmic multiple-choice question: If you saw a burning bush, would you (a) call 911, (b) get the hot dogs, or (c) recognize God? A vanishingly small number would recognize God, Anne had decided years before, and most of them had simply missed a dose of Thorazine.
The Sparrow, p. 100.

There's much, much more that this book will bring to conscious and unconscious thought. It is a work of remarkable grace.

(Note: There is a sequel, Children of God. I am not quite ready to jump in. This one has to do some settling first. Or maybe not.)