KEO 

The Rev. Ron Sala

Unitarian Universalist Society in Stamford

October 6, 2002 

And what if the Earth were an enormous garden? 

And what if we were its gardeners? 

 

And what if Man were an exceptional species? 

And what if we were all concerned? 

 

And what if tomorrow, I were to pave the path 

for you, descendants of my descendants... 

 

And what if we all began 

to pen down our thoughts for our distant grandchildren 

to let them witness our lives 

 

And then... what if from this big book, 

we began to discover, one page after another, 

more about each other...1 

With these words, each of us is invited to a bold experiment. A satellite named KEO is to be launched next year. Onboard will be a digital storage device that will carry records of civilization called the New Library of Alexandria. There will also be room for anyone who wants to provide up to a four page message to the future. The KEO is set to return to earth in a stunning 50,000 years.

The mind boggles at such a span of time. Many of us resist thinking too far ahead. I still remember my Junior High shop teacher, Mr. Yaeger. When you’d ask him for a hall pass for later in the week, he’d always respond, “I could be dead by then!”

And yet, the future happens. C. S. Lewis wrote, “The future is something which everyone reaches at the rate of sixty minutes an hour, whatever he does, whoever he is.” And time brings change. Consider a few of the changes of just the last century. In 1900,

 

What changes will come in this century? How will the decisions each of us makes affect those changes? Albert Einstein wrote,

A human being is part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. We experience ourselves, our thoughts and feelings as something separate from the rest. A kind of optical delusion of consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from the prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty... We shall require a substantially new manner of thinking if mankind is to survive.

One effort toward such a “new manner of thinking” is the KEO Project. It’s the brainchild of French artist Jean-Marc Philippe. As an artist, he uses the latest technology as his brush and canvas. In his own words,

KEO is like an impressionist painting where each individual's message is one small dot of paint that he or she leaves before standing back to contemplate and find meaning in the rich canvas of human colors. It challenges us to probe the question of who we really are and what we want of ourselves. My role as an artist is to facilitate this reflection by offering everyone a free space in which to do so.3

These messages to the future, then, are not only to those 50,000 years from now. They are also a meditation for us now, helping us to understand each other as human beings on this planet, where we’ve been and where we’re going.

There will be time later in the service for you to share part of your message to the future. There is also information in our current newsletter about how to learn more about the KEO Project and send in your message. Here’s mine:

Dear resident of the year 52,003 (as commonly reckoned by people of our time),

I am thrilled by the thought of writing to you! I’m humbled by the task of representing my life and the world I live in in just a few pages. And 50,000 years is such a long time to us, in this time when few humans live to the century mark. What’s more, when I write, I usually have a fair idea of who my reader might be. With you, I can only guess. Perhaps you are a member of the species homo sapiens sapiens like myself. Our scientists tell us that humans have changed very little physically over the last 50,000 years. Maybe that will be the case in your time, too, and you are a man or woman with a carbon-based body, a bright yet fallible brain of ochre-colored goo, and passions handed down from us—your ancient ancestors. Or perhaps you are a sentient machine, your circuitry designed to improve upon the prototypes of nature. Or perhaps you hail from some other world and are living on or visiting this planet I love. Whoever you are, I say to you namaste, a word from Sanskrit, a sacred language, ancient even to us. It means, “The divine in me blesses and honors the divine in you.”

Spiritual matters are important to me, as I am the minister of a congregation. I read this message, so many years ago, as part of my sermon at the Unitarian Universalist Society in Stamford, Connecticut, the United States of America, on October 6, 2002. Since there is not enough memory aboard KEO to store people’s pictures, I will describe to you the scene. Stamford is a small city at approximately 41 degrees north and 74 degrees west, as computed by our mapmakers, or, if you prefer, between the green of New England and the blue of Long Island Sound. It contains some people who are very wealthy, others who are very poor. Most are somewhere in between. People have come here from nearly every region on earth.

Our religious services take place on Sunday mornings, a tradition we keep from our parent religion, Christianity. We come together to sing, listen to music, consider new ideas, and to be reminded of old ones. We come together to celebrate the joy of being alive and to share our sorrows as well. And we come together to be part of something that is larger than ourselves.

I don’t know if there will be Unitarian Universalists in your time. I like to think that what binds our faith together is so basic to human life, and perhaps all sentient life, that it will go on under one name or another. We stand above all else on the principle that everyone is precious, simply for being who they are. Separateness is an illusion. We are all connected to other sentient beings and to the universe. Love, compassion, justice, open-mindedness all come from this basic respect we feel.

Let me further picture for you the scene as I read this message to my congregation on that long-ago Sunday morning. We are in an English country-style Gothic church that was built by the generosity of the Universalists of 1870. There is a fresh coat of paint inside and out. If the building is still in use in your time, it will have been painted perhaps another 5,000 times (though I hesitate to mention this to our Building and Grounds Committee!). A more recent addition to our sanctuary are banners showing symbols of some of the world’s leading religions: Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Taoism, Judaism, and Hinduism. These were hung to reflect a growing realization that no one person or group has all the answers, and we can learn from each other.

None of those who built this sanctuary are still alive, yet they left it to us a strong and precious gift, in hopes that it would be used for good after their generation had passed away. I only hope that the people of 2002 will do as well in passing on a beautiful world to you, future citizen, but I have my concerns.

The world of 2002 is a troubled one. I am more worried about the planet surviving the next 50 years than the next 50,000. Ten years ago, our Union of Concerned Scientists issued a severe warning. They said,

Human beings and the natural world are on a collision course. Human activities inflict harsh and often irreversible damage on the environment and on critical resources. If not checked, many of our current practices put at serious risk the future that we wish for human society and the plant and animal kingdoms, and may so alter the living world that it will be unable to sustain life in the manner that we know. Fundamental changes are urgent if we are to avoid the collision our present course will bring about.4

Some of us are responding to the danger, with such actions as

But at present, I fear that the efforts of the few are too little, too late. We will have to involve many more people to a much greater extent if the current generation is to pass on a fraction of the beauty and bounty of earth.

One Unitarian of the nineteenth century, Herman Melville, sardonically wrote, “Are there no Moravians in the Moon, that not a missionary has yet visited this poor pagan planet of ours to civilize civilization and Christianize Christendom?” Perhaps such missionaries will arrive between our time and yours, and save this earth and its beautiful, bewildering inhabitants. But until then, it’s just us. You know how we did—if there is a you, who is alive and reading this ancient message in a bottle. If so, I will give you the same advice I give to those in the room with me this day:

Never give up on life—your own, others’, or Life itself. Protect and nurture it. The Greek philosopher Democritos said, “Nothing exists except atoms and empty space—all else is opinion.” I contend that Life is more than atoms, or space, or opinion. Therefore live, and preserve life forever!



1 www.keo.org



2 “Summer of l900” http://www.johnsonfamily.tophosting.com/id639.htm [accessed 10/4/02].



3 “Jean-Marc Philippe’s website” http://www.jmphilippe.net/ [accessed 10/4/02].



4 “World Scientists’ Warning to Humanity” by the Union of Concerned Scientists, http://www.ucsusa.org/about/warning.html [accessed 10/4/02].



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