The Sparrow.

It's hard to imagine that a previous generation looked upon science fiction books as scurrilous literature on a par with dime novels. Today science fiction is a highly respected literary genre. Even more amazing, Catholicism and science fiction occasionally walk hand in hand.

Two science fiction novels, one new and one old--both great summer reading--stimulate the Catholic imagination and the imagination of Catholics. The Sparrow (Villard Books) by Mary Doria Russell, published last year, shines like the Hale-Bopp comet that lit the heavens this past spring. The other, A Canticle for Leibowitz (Gregg Press, 1975) by Walter M. Miller, Jr., has been a shining star since its publication in 1960. More than 2 million copies have been sold.

In The Sparrow--which spans 40 years, 2019 to 2059--Jesuits organize an expedition to the planet Rakhat shortly after verification of alien intelligent life. An intriguing group of Jesuits and laypeople make the 4.3 light-year journey. They become both a secular local church and sacred scientific expedition. The three Jesuits are a musician, a naturalist and painter, an aviator. The laypeople include an astronomer, medical doctor, scientist, and artificial intelligence expert.

The Sparrow expands our consciousness about missionary activity and the mission of the church. The links between the Jesuit missionaries of days gone by and the future mission of the Jesuits echo a great spiritual chain of being. The future pins the present and past as a part of tradition and, more surprisingly, religious tradition.

A Canticle for Leibowitz is another sort of science fiction. It is set here on earth after a nuclear holocaust. The re-evolution of civilization and religion takes some unusually dramatic turns. The novel spans nearly 3,000 years of a religious order thought to be founded by Leibowitz. Its abbey becomes the epicenter of this novel's activities. The monks, abbots, neighbors, and visitors who populate this story are an incredible collection of humanity.

Written before the onset of the Second Vatican Council, its presentation of church is, at times, amazingly prophetic. The author, a World War II pilot, participated in the 1944 bombing of Monte Cassino, the mother abbey of the Benedictine order. He converted to Catholicism two years after the war ended.

Both of these novels are much more than good summer reads. They are sacred icons, windows on the world of the future. Read them this summer with great respect for their revelation and faith.