 Worlds without number have I created, wrote Joseph Smith in a revelation on the creation, and the inhabitants thereof are begotten sons and daughters unto God. These worlds are reflected not only in the night sky, but also in numerous stories and narratives that humans have recounted to one another from their earliest beginnings. Only aware of their own vulnerability and solitude in an ever-expanding universe, they have pondered on the nature of their existence and their relationship to beings both lesser and greater than themselves, adjusting these theologies as they gained greater awareness. Humanity has constantly looked beyond, imagining novel ways of interacting with its environment, new possibilities of being, and summoning its creative powers to articulate these visions in compelling ways. What stories are we now telling, and what do they say about how we view ourselves and our place in the universe? What stories will we tell, and how will they shape our environment, our future, and the nature of our existence, for good or ill? What stories is it possible to tell, and what innumerable worlds will emerge from them? We encourage all our speakers to tie their remarks into this theme, and I have the privilege of being the first speaker. There is a danger in a purely technological approach to the world, namely that the world and everything in it is to be turned into a tool to be dissected, manipulated, and used. Technology is all about applying human ingenuity to solve particular problems, or achieve particular goals. And the prevalent reductionism in the scientific sphere dissects what it is examining, and in so doing runs a real risk of killing it. One might say of reductionism, as we sometimes hear about democracy, that it is the worst approach to understanding the world, except for all the others we've tried. In the MTA, we often include human social organizations and efforts, such as religion and politics, in our definition of technology. And here, in a purely technological approach, we run an even greater risk of treating people as objects for achieving our aims. And this is a potentially strong critique of transhumanism that is directed toward a particular vision of the future. The effect of instrumentalizing the world is an increasingly detached individualism bordering on solipsism. And I believe we are seeing the evidence of this in the world around us. How do we in the MTA respond to this critique, one that I believe is quite justified? Well, one proposed approach is to shun or avoid technology or technological approaches to the world. However, obviously, I think this is a kind of nihilism. Technology and the approaches that enable it are inevitable, as they enable us to survive and thrive in the world. The best response to this problem is to complement the technological approach with another approach, one that is explicitly religious. It is to complement the technological approach by cultivating the experience of relation, empathy, and charity. It is to recognize that the world and its inhabitants transcend our efforts to comprehend them, that is, to subsume them into our individual being. Hence we have a Mormon transhumanist association and not simply a Utah transhumanist association. The Austrian philosopher Martin Buber wrote a seminal work in 1923 entitled Ich und Du, I and Thou in English, in which he poetically addresses this issue. He contrasts the inevitable and essential subject-object instrumentalizing of other people and the world, which he calls I-it relationships, with non-analytical subject-to-subject relationships, which he calls I-thou relationships. The English word thou is a relic of its Germanic roots. In German, different forms of address are used with people depending on our relationship to them. Distant or formal relationships use the form z that eventually became dominant in English, nearly replacing all other forms of address. We know it as the common everyday form u in English. But intimate relationships between friends and family use the form du, which is translated in English as thou. As a side note, sometimes we hear encouragement from LDS church leaders to use thou language in prayer in order to show formal respect, strangely enough to a being we dare call father. This is precisely backward. The form thou is the familiar, meaning family relationship form, the one we use when talking to daddy or mommy. For Buber and I-thou relationship is characterized by two aspects, an intense unity and a resistance. And Adam Miller, an MTA keynote speaker a couple of years ago, has done some great philosophical work in the field of object-oriented ontology in his book Speculative Grace, relating this simultaneous connection and resistance to the concept of grace. My talk at last year's conference focused on an attempt to answer a common question directed to the MTA and articulated by Richard Bushman after his own keynote address to us. Where is there room in Mormon transhumanism for grace? And I hope to elaborate a bit further on this today. I love to sing, especially choral music and especially sacred choral music. There's something amazing that happens when a group of people sing together. One choral work that I particularly enjoy listening to is written by John Rudder and entitled Open Thou Mine Eyes, and it begins with a prayer, Open Thou Mine Eyes and I Shall See. In Acts 9 we read, And Saul, yet breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord, came near Damascus, and suddenly there shined round about him a light from heaven, and he fell to the earth and heard a voice sing unto him, Saul, Saul, why persecuteest thou me? And Saul arose from the earth, and when his eyes were opened he saw no man. But they led him by the hand and brought him to Damascus. And there was a certain disciple at Damascus named Ananias, and Ananias entered the house and putting his hands on him said, Brother Saul, the Lord, that appeared to thee in the way as thou cameest, hath sent me, that thou mightest receive thy sight and be filled with the Holy Ghost. And immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been scales, and he received sight forthwith. John 9. And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from birth, and his disciples asked him saying, Master, who did sin? This man or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, neither hath this man sinned nor his parents, but that the works of God should be made manifest in him. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world, that they which see not might see. Both Saul and the blind man were healed of their physical blindness, but Jesus extends this to spiritual blindness. That is spiritual blindness. Among other things, I believe it can be a consequence of a purely technological approach to the world. This is a world in which everything is in it, and nothing is a thou. In fact, we may lose the very thought of a thou. Why was this man born blind? Not his sin or that of his parents, but that the glory of God might be made manifest. Now we usually read this as meaning that the glory of God was manifest because Jesus healed him and thereby demonstrated his divine power. However, I think another reading could be that in opening his eyes, the glory of God could be manifest to him. The glory and grace of God that saturates the world. We have a challenge as disciples of Christ to see as Christ sees and to relate to each other and the world as God does. One shall God say to them on the right hand, Come ye blessed, inherit the kingdom, prepared for you from the foundation of the world, for I was unhungered and ye gave me meat. I was thirsty and ye gave me drink. I was a stranger and ye took me in, naked and ye clothed me. I was sick and ye visited me, in prison and ye came unto me. I was poor and ye gave of your substance, lame and ye healed me, blind and ye gave me sight, weak and ye strengthened me. I was sick unto death and ye raised me to life. Then shall the righteous answer say, When saw me ye unhungered and fed thee, or thirsty and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger and took thee in, or naked and clothed thee? When saw we thee sick or in prison and came unto thee? When saw we thee poor and gave thee of our substance, or lame and healed thee, or blind and gave thee sight? When saw we thee weak and strengthened thee? Or when saw we thee sick unto death and raised thee to life? When God shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, In as much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, My brethren and sisters, ye have done it unto me. In the words of C. S. Lewis, It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter. It is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbor. The load or burden of my neighbor's glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken. It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship. All day long we are in some degree helping each other to one of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities. It is with the awe and circumspection proper to them that we should conduct all our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Next to the blessed sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbor, he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ ver elatitat or is hiding. The glorifier and the glorified glory himself is truly hidden. I think Lewis is wrong on this last point. When Jesus taught that what we do to one of the least of these we do to God, he did not restrict it to his followers. Seeing our fellow human beings in this way requires that our eyes be opened in a way that isn't possible through a purely technological attitude toward the world. It is the thou that opens my eyes. Allowing the thou to open our eyes means that we experience both the openness and the resistance offered by the other. The transcendence of every individual being and of nature itself challenge us to relate to them as a thou. In Second Kings, when the servant of Elisha was risen early and gone forth, behold and host, compassed the city both with horses and chariots, and his servant said unto him, Alas, my master, how shall we do? And he answered, Fear not, for they that be with us are more than they that be with them. And Elisha prayed and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha. Many years ago, in an online discussion forum, before the MTA was founded, I and several of the future founders of the MTA engaged with critics of Mormonism, one of them asked if we had ever seen angels. When I read Lincoln Cannon's affirmative response, I had a powerful spiritual experience that I compare to that of the servant of Elisha. My eyes were opened to see the world in a way that let me recognize my fellow human beings as angels. Be not forgetful to entertain strangers for thereby some have entertained angels and wares. Do we see our fellow human beings in the world infused with grace and potential? If not, let us pray to God to have our eyes opened. God will answer that prayer through the world and the people we encounter. They will become a thou to us. One of the great strengths of Mormonism is its sacralization of the mundane. It encourages us to see the world as divine and potentially divine, as infused and saturated with grace, paraphrasing from doctrine in Covenants 88 called the olive leaf plucked from the tree of paradise. The light of Christ is in the sun and the moon and the stars and the earth and the power by which they were made and is the same light that quickens our understanding and is in all things and gives life to all things. Without this light, they are dead to us. God is in all things and is through all things and is round about all things. Anyone who has seen any or the least of these has seen God moving in majesty and power. I say they have seen God. However, the light shineth in darkness and the darkness comprehended that not. Nevertheless, the day shall come when you shall comprehend even God being quickened in and by deity. Another distinctively Mormon aspect of this is Mormonism's emphasis on embodiment. The soul of a human being consists of spirit, immanence and openness and body, resistance. Every human being may be imminent and transcendent to us in the I, thou relationship. Some of you may have heard one of my favorite Mormon quotes about the nature of God from Charles W. Penrose, who is my great, great, great grandfather, served in the First Presidency. And I paraphrase, he talks about, if God is an organized being, there was a time when God had a beginning. But that God is a manifestation of the spirit which pervades all things, which is the light in life of all things by which our heavenly parents operate, by which they are omnipotent, which never had a beginning and never will have an end. This spirit always existed, but it is not understood or cannot be comprehended except through organisms. If you see a living blade of grass, you see a manifestation of that spirit, which is called God. If you see an animal of any kind on the face of the earth having life, there is a manifestation of that spirit. And if you see a glorified human, there you see manifested in its perfection this eternal, beginningless, endless spirit of intelligence. And we are following the footsteps of those gods who have preceded us in this light. He says, some people may think this rather a low idea of a divine being, but I think it a most exalted one. The person whom I worship, I acknowledge as my father, and we can add mother. Through him I may learn to understand the secrets and mysteries of eternity, those things that never had a beginning and never will have an end. And we are climbing our way up in the same way. In other words, God is both transcendent and imminent. Or as Buber says, the ultimate thou, of which all our I-thou relationships are a reflection. The outcome, as Buber says of this relation, and some of you may recognize echoes of Joseph Smith here, love ranges in its effect through the whole world. In the eyes of one who takes their stand in love and gazes out of it, people are cut free from their entanglement and bustling activity. Good people and evil, wise and foolish, beautiful and ugly become successively real to them. And so they can be effective, helping, healing, educating, raising up, saving. Love is responsibility of an I for a thou. We are molded by our pupils and built up by our works. The quote unquote bad man, lightly touched by the holy primary word thou, becomes one who reveals. How we are educated by children and by animals. This reminds me also of Brigham Young speaking about revelation. I live constantly by the principle of revelation. I never received one iota of intelligence from the letter A to what I now know. I mean that. From the very start of my life to this time, I have never received one particle of intelligence only by revelation. No matter whether father or mother revealed it or my sister or neighbor, no person receives knowledge only upon the principle of revelation. That is by having something revealed to them. Who reveals? Everybody around us. We learn of each other. I have something which you have not and you have something which I have not. I reveal what I have to you and you reveal what you have to me. I believe that we are revelators to each other. Are the heavens opened? Yes, to some at times, yet upon natural principles, upon the principle of natural philosophy. Revelation comes through both the openness and the resistance, and both are always surprising and not merely subsumed into us. Dideraf Uchtdorf a few years ago in general conference gave a great discourse entitled You Are My Hands, in which he reminded us that we, who are disciples of Christ, are the hands of Christ ministering to the reflections of Christ around us in the world. Grace is experiencing the world with eyes wide open to the recognition and acknowledgement of the presence of God. God is involved in educating a child, in lifting the poor out of poverty, in emancipating women and minorities, and yes, in the development and ethical use of technology to enhance the individual and collective lives of the lesser intelligences, as Brother Joseph put it, to bring to pass immortality and eternal life. So that was a lot of heavy religious stuff. What does all this have to do with transhumanism? It is at least this. The transhumanism of Mormon transhumanists is a religiously motivated one. We seek the exaltation of individuals and communities, as we have in our MTA affirmation. It is not enough to be a geek or a technology fan or advocate. We must learn to see as we are seen and know as we are known. Wherefore, pray unto God with all the energy of heart that you may be filled with this love. President Ochtorf in that talk, true love requires action. We can speak of love all day long, but until we manifest that love in action, our words are nothing but sounding brass or a tinkling symbol. We have our work cut out for us to demonstrate by our words and actions that we are disciples of the gospel of Jesus Christ, also from our MTA affirmation. As we do so, our fellow Mormons and fellow Christians will have less cause to wonder whether we seek to supplant God with technology. They will have less cause to wonder about our commitment to Christ, and perhaps more importantly, they will feel and recognize the love that motivates our commitment to lifting mankind through all the means God has given us in this world, saturated with divine grace, if only our eyes are open to it. Christ enters into thou relationships, symbolized by naming the person Saul, Saul, and then challenging, why does that persecute me? Like Adam and Eve, where art thou? What is this thou hast done? That thou relationship opens our eyes in a way that mere instrumentalism, such as eating the forbidden fruit, cannot do, even though the latter is necessary and inevitable. It is insufficient. When we do likewise, our eyes will be opened to see, as described in the Doctrine and Covenants, whether there be one God or many gods, they shall be made manifest. Everything is a kingdom, or a world, and every world a God moving in majesty and power, and every God a reflection of the one God, worlds without number and worlds without end. Thank you.