Would it matter if there were little green Jews?

If life does indeed exist elsewhere, we can certainly draw the conclusion that earth is no longer uniquely central in the cosmos, throwing into touch the traditional view that it is at the very centre of God’s creation and plan.

There are, however, plenty of sources that we can highlight find no inherent contradiction between Judaism and the existence of alien life. Indeed, the Psalmist reminds us that, ‘’the heavens declare the glory of God’’(Psalm 19:2), placing no limitation on God’s infinite powers.

The liturgy vividly portrays the vast cosmic landscape of God’s creation. In the weekday morning preparatory prayers for example, we address the Lord as,‘’Master of All Worlds, not upon our righteousness do we supplicate ourselves in Your presence, but on Your great compassion. What are we? What are our lives?’’

Rather than undermining the tradition, these texts indicate that alien life could even expand our sense of awe at the multifaceted nature of creation and our notion of the sheer magnitude of God’s universe.

Midrashic sources too speak of ‘’many worlds’’ being created and destroyed before our very own, accordingly implying a non-earth centric view of creation. This is also reiterated in the Talmud which mentions that God, ‘’goes around to 18,000 worlds’’(Avodah Zarah 3b). We may well dismiss this as figurative speech but it does certainly open the door to the idea of multiple inhabited worlds.
We might also point to a central concept within Judaism, which is its general acceptance that what is not forbidden is permitted. With this in mind, many rabbis have come to view the Torah as focused on human life because that is what is relevant to us and not for the reason that it rules out other life per se.

Maimonides, writing in the 12th century, argued that not all living beings have souls or moral agency, allowing the space for non-humans to exist without any theological conflict.

Going one step further, the 20th-century Orthodox rabbi and physicist, Aryeh Kaplan in his Handbook of Jewish Thought suggests that just because aliens might be intelligent, they may not be spiritually obligated as humans are. Similar to how animals and angels have designated roles within the majesty of creation, he argues that extraterrestrial life could exist without disrupting the centrality of Torah or the Jewish mission.

Even if the existence of life on other planets does not undermine Judaism’s authenticity, we may still well ask whether the pursuit of scientific research into life beyond our own planet is deemed justifiable in an age when so much of our attention warrants a focus on life here on earth.

It was the great 20th-century theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel who flagged for us the important moral dilemma right at the outset of the space age when he suggested that the urge to explore space was because of its political and military value to the state. “Is man’s conquest of the moon really as important to humanity as the conquest of poverty, disease, prejudice, and superstition? Of what value will it be to land a few men on the wilderness of the moon if we neglect the needs of millions of men on earth?’’ he said.

His cautionary perspective brings to mind the story of the Tower of Babel – a prescient narrative admonishing humanity’s hubris for rearing its head in the pursuit of technological advance. Undoubtedly, Heschel’s prophetic voice urging the elimination of poverty and suffering must be central to our endeavours today but this must surely not be at the expense of furthering our curiosity and advancing our understanding of the universe, including possible life forms on other planets.

Heschel’s views are also significantly at odds with another important 20th-century theologian, Abraham Isaac Hakohen Kook (1865-1935), Israel’s first Chief Rabbi, who, writing well before Nasa’s Apollo programme was underway, directs us to the true potential that the exploration of space can entail. Unquestionably a child of the cosmos, in his famous reflections Shir Meruba, or Fourfold Song, he discusses the evolution of human consciousness in ever-widening circles from individualism to nationalism to humanism and ultimately to a loving embrace of the universe as a whole.

There is however, an earlier poem that Kook composed called Conversation of the Angels, where he traces the trajectory of humanity from earthbound existence to future space travel. The recurring image in Kook’s depiction of human history, viewed from the standpoint of angels above, is the metaphor of a “speck of dust”.

He charts a bumpy road to intellectual maturity but reveals an ultimate confidence that the humbling discovery of how infinitesimally small we truly are will eventually register with an unbelieving humanity. In the final stanza the angels acknowledge reluctantly that the ‘’mighty among midgets’’ shall one day overtake them.

It was Soviet leader Nikita Khrushschev, reporting on Yuri Gagarin’s first mission on orbiting the earth in 1961, who said:’’He flew into space but didn’t see any God there!’’

So there is, of course, not necessarily a direct correlation between scientific exploration and revelation as Kook would have it. Perhaps though, in continuing the quest for new life forms beyond the confines of our own terrestrial borders, humanity may indeed draw ever closer to an appreciation for the love and understanding of God’s mysterious ways.
 

Simon Eder hosts the Jewish Quest podcast for the Louis Jacobs Foundation