Digital Sanctityby Piri PapotteAt the end of the work week, Avant Cartwise embarks on a regular pilgrimage with his fellow faithful of the Green-White Order. His sect, one of many
animist beliefs to gain renewed popularity in modern times, dates back to tribal practices on the Luminaire archipelago of Rei-Tsaro. The natives of that island chain regarded a unique species of long-lived tropical gynosperm, which produced hetero-chromatic leaves, as holy. Today, the Green-White Order blurs the boundaries between animist sect and political organization. While they maintain the rites and teachings of the original native islanders, they are involved in environmental and conservationist movements across the Federation. Its members use GalNet networking and social media to champion the preservation of rare flora throughout the cluster.
On this particular day, M. Cartwise is focused entirely on his spiritual journey. “Our way does not
merely involve an intellectual understanding of the importance of biodiversity,” M. Cartwise explains, as he cross-wraps a polytextile toga. “It is also about community of belief and practice.” He joins a score of other order members scheduled to visit the Rei-Tsaro Equinox Grove, where they will perform ceremonial rites of pruning and fertilization.
The Equinox Grove resembles many of the other temple-parks maintained by the Green-White Order. Tall palms shelter its aged lanes from warm tropical storms. Beneath those gentle shadows, visitors are treated to a rainbow of plantlife made luminous by pervasive moisture and equatorial sun. As the Order’s rites are performed in utter silence, the only sounds to be heard in the Equinox Grove are the distant rush of the ocean and the many-pitched conversations of its avian population.
Should an outsider attempt to enter the Equinox Grove, they may find it difficult to locate. The temple-park exists on no map of the Rei-Tsaro archipelago.
In fact, it does not exist in the physical world.
Ronna Bouviear, Senior Gardener of the Green-White Order, explains, “It is part of our faith to revisit the traditional groves of Rei-Tsaro, and help tend the ancient plants. But our Order has grown over generations, and many of our members are now involved in worthy causes off-world and even outside the cluster. It has grown increasingly difficult, if not impossible, for many to make regular pilgrimages.”
This dilemma led to a contract with MindScape, an Orvolle start-up firm specializing in
virtual entertainment packages. Dataspinner Hue Flonne recounts, “Unlike most of our product experiences, the customer sought a permanent existence. Simulating real-world sensations was only part of the package. Proprietary algorithms replicate the grove’s life cycle from season to season, as well as record persistent changes effected by visitor-user activities, such as gardening.”
Mme Bouviear adds, “We were hesitant at first about this solution. But it was the only feasible way for many of our far-off members to really come together as a community. We had to balance a tradition centered a single archipelago in a single world with followers that have spread through the rest of the Federation.”
M. Cartwise himself, a 31 year-old zero-gravity engineering specialist, has lived for the past three years on an asteroid colony in the Yvaeroure system. “Solitude’s a long way from Luminaire,” he admits, “and no one else in the colony has even heard of the Green-White.” In his view, “the Equinox Grove is the only way I can connect with my faith.”
The story of the Green-White Order and the Equinox Grove is not a unique one. Social observers say that it may be be part of a greater trend towards virtualized places of worship.
University of Caille professor Terrance Duvalle, who this week published “Infomorphs and Identity Politics: The Evolution of Self-Awareness,” argues that virtual reality technology and the accessibility of
FTL communication networks are combining to transform religious practices throughout the Federation.
M. Duvalle says, “The
Federation is unrivalled in its religious diversity. One’s choice of religion is just as acceptable as one’s choice of fashion or political ideology. At the same time, the emphasis on personal freedoms and availability of modern means of travel means that private mobility is at an all time high. In the past, religious affiliation tended to have a strong correspondence with the circumstances of one’s birth. Increasingly, religious belief is becoming a matter independent of one’s location.”
He concludes, “The result is the fragmentation and diffusion of religious communities across entire constellations. These communities, previously tied together by traditional structures such as the parish or temple, must rely on non-traditional venues to remain interconnected. One such venue is the virtual realm.”
The Cathedral of St. Anahita is emblematic of this trend. Existing only on a fluid router housed in Caille’s expansive network, the cathedral nonetheless hosts weekly sermons and sees thousands of visitors daily. Several parallel versions of the cathedral exist at any one time, and groups of visitors are shunted into a particular manifestation based on server load.
Deacon Isaac Rourthe, a priest-admin of the digital cathedral, is a member of the Church of the Star Saints. His is one of
the many denominations of the Amarrian faith that have flourished in the Federation, and he speaks of the decision to “go virtual” as one born from necessity.
“Our flock is everywhere,” explains Father Rourthe. “Our parishioners can be found in various locations planetside, in underwater cities, space elevators, and amongst the station cities that dot the skies. That they might have local access to a physical Church of our denomination is a rare blessing indeed.”
Father Rourthe also disputes the view that digitized locations are unsuitable as places of religious worship. “Our ancestors built their holy places out of whatever materials they had available, be it stone and wood, or mud and thatch. The humblest of places can be made hallow by the devotion of the faithful. What does it matter that these walls are but bits of data? The grace of God defies physicality.”
But while the clergy of the Cathedral of St. Anahita carry on rites and sermons indistinguishable from a real-world church, they have to account for phenomena unique to the virtual world. “Of the visitors we get daily,” recounts Father Rourthe, “the majority are parishioners who participate in the rites. The rest are guest accounts.”
“Channel lurkers,” says dataspinner Flonne in, perhaps, an uncharitable tone. “Idle connections are frequent on online channels, even those channels that translate into VE sense-datum. Frequently, those users do not manifest avatars but merely observe invisibly, as ghosts if you would.”
These ‘ghost’ connections have become a frequent occurrence as more and more religious groups adopt virtual venues for their communities. This is especially true when a news-worthy incident causes a particular sect or denomination to gain public attention.
“Modern-day sermonizers will have to be mindful of the fact that they’re not just preaching to the choir anymore,” remarks Professor Duvalle. “In one sense, ghost connections can be likened to window shopping. Individuals interested in a faith or way of life can browse temple-servers and ongoing sermons as if flipping through HoloVision channels.”
For his part, Avant Cartwise shrugs off the notion that his spiritual journey might be watched by invisible voyeurs. “If they’re really interested, they can join in one day and help us with the garden weeds.”
After hearing of the professor’s observation, M. Cartwise adds, “If some of these guest accounts are really ‘window shoppers,’ I don’t mind. It just means that more people are making personal choices about what they believe in, rather than it being just about who your parents were. And if that’s the case, I think we’re moving forward as a society.”
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Topic: Caille Catwalk Archive (Read 1440 times)