I’ve been pondering the theological problem of pain again; the whole question about how a loving God could let so many awful, humiliating, life-sapping things happen to those he loves. I mean, I’d really like to believe in God again, without reservation. Such belief certainly helps to fill a lot of psychological gaps; that’s no doubt why religion is so popular. But when I see so many people with idealistic dreams that go up in smoke, with good intentions come to naught, who suffer terribly for nothing they ever did, who lose their taste for living . . . . just how could it make any sense?

Perhaps it could, if there were in fact something more than our short, mostly pathetic years here on earth (reminds me of that depressing Peggy Lee song “Is That All There Is?”). The Bible and other religious literature promise that there IS something more. But they offer no real proof; just a lot of wishful thinking, when you boil it all down. It would really help to have a sign, however small and tentative, one that made some sense rationally, indicating that perhaps our lives don’t totally go to waste; that something could still be made of them somehow.

There might be one such sign. But I’m not sure yet if this notion has any scientific validity or plausibility. Some people think that our past is actually “still out there”. Somewhere in space, over light-years perhaps, every bit of information about our lives may still exist somehow. Every moment, every thought, every feeling, every impression, every sensation – perhaps it’s all recorded in some way. Recorded as little wiggles in gravity fields, mega-patterns in the web of quantum phase entanglement, faint bits of electromagnetic waves from decades of neuron activity within the brain. Yes, if this “information” does indeed exist, it is well beyond human capacity for recovery. It’s too small in magnitude, too diffuse, too jumbled up with trillions and trillions of other signals and patterns and static. And yet, if this were true, or even not necessarily false, it would make me feel better. I’d feel better knowing that my father’s life is still out there, even if hidden amidst the rubble of an energy field junkyard. And also my grandparents. And those guys from my high school class who died young.

OK, and Hitler and Stalin would thus be “alive” too. But maybe that’s a good thing. Perhaps their souls were always tortured and haunted and barren. If they somehow still exist, God (if God somehow still exists) then has the chance to do something with them. And to do something to heal the many broken and disappointed souls who found life to be unfair, painful, wasteful, insensible, unbearable (partly because of what Hitler and Stalin and their like did here on earth).

I have no idea how God actually could do something like this. (To get an idea, I’ve just bought Frank Tipler’s book “ The Physics of Immortality”, about how everyone who ever lived might be brought back to life if the Universe were to go through a “big crunch”, and an intelligent, altruistic society of beings did certain high-tech things to take advantage of it.) But even without a plan as to what to do with these “life signals” (if they do indeed exist), it would still make me feel better to know at least that the information is still out there. I will report back on this issue at some point, once I see what Mr. Tipler has to say about it.

PS, here’s a weird thought, inspired by Mr. Tipler’s boundless thinking. What if God did indeed create the universe, but died in giving it birth? What if our world does indeed have something of God’s character (helping to explain why we think of him so much), but gets nasty and unpleasant so often because it doesn’t have him around to keep things right? Oh wait – if God died in childbirth, then God definitely is a she. Or was a she.

Geez, you’d think we’d then try to make the best of what she gave herself up for.