ANSWERING THE THREE QUESTIONS THAT RELIGION ASKS
Who am I?
I am a human
being and, with 7 billion others, I belong to the species Homo sapiens. That makes me a primate, a mammal, a vertebrate, and
a deuterostome among the living animals.
I am a coordinated mass of 3 trillion cells that trace their origin to
the union of one of my father’s sperm and one of my mother’s eggs. I have a unique genotype shared by no other
person, past or present. That genotype
is found among the 46 chromosomes of my karyotype -- 46,XY
-- as a collection of about 20,000 genes capable of forming proteins to
build my cells, tissues, and organs.
Those genes are regulated by largely unknown associations with RNA
produced by the rest of the DNA found in my karyotype. About 100 billion cells are reserved for my
brain which generates my sensory interpretations of the environment, my
responses to them, and my identity as a person. My Y chromosome makes me a male. My narrative so far makes me a scientist,
more specifically, a biologist.
I am mortal and so far have lived 84
years in a social life that makes me Caucasian in my European ancestry,
Scandinavian in my paternal ancestry, Eastern European in my maternal ancestry,
American in my citizenship, a Brooklyn born New Yorker in my growing up years,
and the son of a working class father who was a merchant mariner before he
settled in the US as an elevator operator.
My mother was from New Jersey and psychotic, which made me self-reliant
to accommodate her mood shifts. I had a
brother who had a congenital heart condition and a half brother and half
sister from my mother’s first marriage whom we rarely saw while growing up.
I am a father of five children, a
grandfather of 12, and great grandfather of 3.
I have been married twice. My
first wife, Helen, died at 43 of lung cancer.
My present wife of 57 married years,
Nedra, I cherish and adore. I am
a geneticist and historian of science, receiving my PhD in 1958 at Indiana
University and I now consider myself a full time writer in my retirement years.
Why am I here?
I had no
conscious role in uniting the sperm of my father that encountered my mother’s egg
sometime in mid-October of 1930 that led to my birth nine months later on July
15, 1931. Nor do I have any awareness of
my gestation or birth. My earliest
recollection of childhood was when I was about 2 or 3 years old and I placed a
wash basin over my back and crawled like a turtle. I am here because my mother said “no” when my
father asked her, in the Depression, if she wanted to abort their unplanned
pregnancy with my embryonic status measured by a skipped period. I respected my father for his concern and I
respected my mother for her choice when I learned of their decision some 20
years after I was born.
I am here because my karyotype was
normal, my implantation took, I was born healthy, and I was living in a country
where famine was rare. I was living in
an era that understood the germ theory of infectious diseases and benefitted
from the vaccines available. I am here because
I was born in 1931 which made me too young to be drafted in World War II; and
in the next decade, at an age to be exempt from military service because I was
in college. By the time I finished my
PhD, I was exempt as a father.
I am here because I am lucky I escaped
injury or death from collisions narrowly missed, from accidents avoided at the
last second, and from a flight I might have boarded earlier but decided not to
take, and which crashed after takeoff from Chicago. My mentor, H. J. Muller called
it “life the lucky” and I believe most people have had narrow escapes from
death or profound injury.
It is not just luck, however. I never smoked tobacco, avoided substance
abuse, lived a cautious life, and benefitted from my life as an
intellectual. My field also made me cautious
on risk-taking as an adult.
How then should I live?
I have been an atheist all my
conscious life. Neither of my parents
appreciated their religious upbringing.
My father rejected Lutheranism as a child and became an atheist. My mother was disowned by her relatives for marrying
a non-Jew. She abandoned most of its kosher habits had a vague sense of a God
but never conferred Jewish traditions or religion on us.
From my father I learned to
appreciate a love of reading and of thinking independently. From my mother I learned to appreciate
museums because she regularly took my brother and me to the American Museum of
Natural History and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. On rainy days we drew and painted. My father bought the Encyclopedia Britannica on an installment plan. I read voraciously from it over the years, randomly
discovering topics I did not know existed.
My mother played about an hour a day for us on her violin so we were
early introduced to classical music (mostly of the Boston Pops type). Later our father bought a phonograph and we learned
to enjoy listening to opera. In school I
excelled and teachers encouraged me. I
liked art and science but chose genetics when I was in 10th grade in
high school. I won a full tuition
scholarship to NYU. I majored in biology
and minored in history. I went to
graduate school at Indiana University to study with Nobelist H. J. Muller. I learned what it is like to be totally
immersed in a scholarly field and the pleasure of designing and carrying out
experiments, I learned how Muller
thought and shared his concerns for the unintended harmful consequences of the misuses of science in
society.
I became a Unitarian in 1961 and
liked its emphasis on social justice, appreciation of reason and science,
rejection of the supernatural explanations when rational ones exist, and its
belief that we can make a better world than we experienced.
I learned to communicate science
to non-science majors. I taught my
students how science permeates their lives and how to live with that new knowledge
and used it wisely for our reproduction, health, and the quality of the world
we live in. I called my Biology 101-102 course
“Biology, a Humanities Approach” because, like the humanities, the life
sciences reveal what it means to be human.
I liked being responsible for my
behavior and using my empathy to help others when opportunity permitted. Life is a gift. I am thankful to have experienced it, to have
learned from it, to have atoned for my mistakes and failures, and in some small
measure, to have contributed to it.
Elof Axel
Carlson
December 5, 2015
Interesting that you framed the post in the context of questions that religions pose yet religion played no role in your life. So much for atheists being immoral as some would profess!! I ponder the question of whether throughout your life any study of religions that you may have pursued or readings of religious texts you may have done whether the moral content of your development was influenced by those pursuits or more so from your life experiences independent of religious understandings??
ReplyDeleteI neglected to include at the end of my first sentence above the following "- I assume that was intentional"!!
DeleteI began to read religious beliefs when I was in 6th or 7th grade in my public school library but they were on Greek myths and Egyptian myths so my first experience was with dead religions! I then read Henrik van Loon's Story of the Bible when I was about 13 or 14 years old. When I was in college I read lots of religious books for my Renaissance and Medieval history classes, including St. Francis's Fioretti and the medieval play, Everyman. I also read the Life of Sri Ramakrishna, and a book on Zen Buddhism. My ethics were learned by mimicry, both my parents being very ethical in their lives. One advantage of being raised without a religion was my ability to read all religious works the way an anthropologist would look at a new culture. The supernatural always seemed a very dated way of interpreting the universe. I was more saturated in science than in religion.
DeleteHi Elof - This is Rich Ohlrogge, not sure if you knew that!! YOur response to the morality question is just as I would have expected.
ReplyDelete