Venus in Transit

Next Wednesday, Finland will experience a rather neat and rare astronomical event, though not one so easy to notice. The transit of Venus is essentially the same as a solar eclipse, though instead of the moon blocking out the sun by passing between it and Earth, it’s Venus that’s blocking out the sun. Only, not so much.

Faraway Venus appears so small from Earth that we see it only as a small dot as it crosses the face of the sun. So, I imagine the transit won’t exactly be spectacular. But it is rare -- it won’t happen again for another 105 years – and it does have a unique scientific pedigree. 

When I heard that the transit of Venus was coming up, I immediately thought of James Cook and Tahiti. Naturally. Any excuse to think of a place like Tahiti.

The most recent transit, 2004.
Photo: Jen Herold.

What makes the solar transit of our neighboring planet so interesting is its role in a geometry exercise of astronomical proportions. Over 400 years ago, Johannes Kepler, a founding father of astronomy, revolutionized the field by discovering a more accurate model of how planets move around the sun. He was thus able to predict when Venus and smaller Mercury would next transit the sun, but died a year before the first of these events took place, in 1631, and no one was prepared to observe it. The opportunity to gleam some important data was lost.

When the next transit of Venus occurred in 1639 (they usually come in pairs eight years apart, then again after 105 or 122 years), it was seen by two astronomers in England, who then took a stab at measuring part of the solar system.

Because these two Englishmen observed the transit from slightly different angles (from villages about 40 kilometers apart), Venus appeared to each to take a slightly different path across the sun.

From this, they could use fairly basic geometry to calculate the distance of Northern England from that big yellow orb in the sky. The resulting estimate of almost 60 million miles (97 million kilometers) was way off the mark, though closer to the actual distance of 93 million miles (150 million km) than anyone had come up with previously. 

An early observation of a transit of Venus, 1639.

What was needed for a more accurate measurement was more and better observations, and from more widely separated spots on earth. That and, of course, another transit of Venus. This wasn’t scheduled to occur again until 1761 and 1769, by which time scientists around the world were ready. Astronomers were dispatched to such widely scattered places as Norway, Newfoundland and Madagascar to measure the transit on June 6, 1761.

Two of those taking part in this international effort were English astronomers by the names of Mason and Dixon, who successfully observed the transit from the Cape of Good Hope. This pair went on to gain wider fame by accurately marking the southern limits of the colony of Pennsylvania. This more down-to-earth feat led to one of their names, in the form of Dixie, being applied to such diverse items as disposable paper cups, an all-girl country band, a type of jazz, not to mention a large part of the future United States where I come from.

For the next transit, eight years later, some astronomers traveled even further afield. The Royal Society of London organized an expedition to the amazingly agreeable destination of Tahiti, which had been “discovered” by an Englishman only two years before. The very able James Cook, a master navigator and mapmaker, was picked to lead the voyage, the first of his three explorations of the Pacific.

I love the idea of an expedition setting out on three-year journey to exotic parts of the world just to observe a single brief celestial event with no other purpose than the advancement of pure science. I would have signed up for that trip in an instant.

Aboriginals encountering 
Cook's men in 1770.

But, there was a second, secret and slightly less noble, though just as romantic, "assignment for Cook. The British Admiralty instructed him to search for Terra Australis Incognito before returning home to England. This mythical continent was rumored to exist in the far reaches of the southern ocean and would have made an epic addition to the British Empire.

After leaving Tahiti, Cook spent a year sailing around and mapping New Zealand, proving it was a pair of islands and not part of any legendary continent. He also discovered the eastern coast of Australia, ran aground on the Great Barrier Reef, and observed original Australians and their habits, which included cooking shellfish on the beach, apparently an ancient Ozzie custom that has now been elevated (or reduced?) to a fun-loving cliche.

He, however, did not succeed in his secret task of finding a gigantic landmass in the vastness of the South Pacific, the original mission did contribute to a much-improved measurement of our solar system.

Next week’s transit will be another opportunity for scientists somewhere to gather data. For us laypeople it will be just a chance to watch Venus obscure a small part of the sun. That is if our slice of the sky is not obscured by clouds.

Of course, no one can safely view it without proper eye protection. I’m hoping to use the safety glasses handed out to us by Air France back in 1999 on a flight to Paris from the States that was landing just as a total solar eclipse sweep across the City of Light.

The transit should be visible in Finland beginning at one a.m. Wednesday morning (three hours before sunrise in Helsinki) and lasts until almost eight. I hope I can catch some of it. It would be a shame not to. Something tells me I won’t be around for the next one in 2117.

Citizenship

Last week we applied for a new passport for my daughter, which required a visit to the US Consulate here in Helsinki. Though her current passport expired last summer, we decided to hold off on applying for a new one until she turned 16, a few months ago.

There were some concrete benefits to waiting. As a 16-year-old, she now gets a passport valid for 10 years, like the rest of us grownups, rather than the five-year passports issued to kids.

Less crucial, but still an advantage, is the fact that since my daughter is now “of age”, we parents are not needed for application purposes. Prior to this, both my wife (who is not a US citizen) and I needed to make an appearance at the US Consulate in five years intervals to renew each of our children’s passports.

The sad rationale (as I believe) for the policy of both parents showing up is to ensure one who is a US citizen and facing the breakup of his or her marriage can’t impulsively arrange travel documents for the kids and sneak them out of the country without the other parent’s knowledge. This is an extremely heartbreaking risk of transnational marriages, and it does happen.

Some ten years ago, there were a couple of widely publicized cases of such parental child abductions in the opposite direction, with Finnish mothers refusing to return their American-Finnish children to the US. Fighting over who gets to keep the kids in a divorce is bad enough, but it can be made even uglier because of dual citizenship, which is otherwise usually a win-win arrangement for those who have it. 

All my children are dual US and Finnish citizens. Though they were born here in Helsinki, they were also born American thanks to US law, which grants citizenship to the children of native-born Americans who live abroad. (Donald Trump, take note: Barack Obama would be a US citizen, even if he had been born – against all evidence – in Kenya, and not Hawaii.)

To certify the citizenship of their children, expat Americans need to obtain a “Consular Report of Birth” from the US State Department. Soon after each of our children were born, we schlepped down to the US Embassy, taking with us various documentation (Finnish birth certificate, marriage license, etc.), and of course the actual baby in question, in order to apply for the report of birth and a passport.

When I first came to Finland, a visit to the US Consulate was a simple affair. The American diplomatic mission to Finland occupies a small campus of mostly Georgian-style buildings on the edge of Kaivopuisto, a scenic park overlooking the sea and islands off Helsinki’s southern shore. I distinctly remember on my first visits there driving into the complex and parking right outside the front door of the gray, gabled Consulate building.

Those were more innocent times. Things started to change after the 1983 suicide bombing that killed 241 US servicemen in Lebanon. Security at the Helsinki embassy, as I’m sure with all US missions, became tighter over the years following that, and after 9/11 became extremely rigorous. Sadly, a visit to the Consulate nowadays is a grim reminder of the potential threats oversea Americans face, though such worries are not something that ordinarily intrudes on our lives.

Photo credit: Noble

Today, while the Embassy complex in Kaivopuisto is undergoing extensive renovation, the Consulate is operating out of a temporarily location in downtown, which means security is even tighter than normal, if that’s possible.

Still, it’s a relatively busy place. Once my daughter and I found it and got through the security check, we shared the waiting room with three people seeking US visas:  a Helsinki-based African scholar and two 16-year-old Finnish girls off to spend a year as high school exchange students in Idaho and Massachusetts.

After a relatively short wait (I can remember some interminable waits on previous visits), the whole thing went smoothly and we were done. The Consulate staff was, as you would expect, business-like, but also really pretty friendly. Interacting with the other Americans there was a bit like briefly being back home in the States – which, in a sense, it was.

Still, I’m not unhappy about not having to return there any time soon. My daughter will get her new passport by mail, hopefully before our upcoming trip to North America in a few weeks. Otherwise, she would have to travel on her Finnish passport and apply for a “visa waiver”.

Most Finns don’t need a visa to visit the US, because in effect they are granted a waiver. Before 1991, this was automatically granted upon arrival, on the basis of a form visitors could fill out on the plane. Simple. And free. Nowadays, they must obtain the waiver online before departing, at a cost of $14. That’s simpler than visiting the Consulate for an actual visa, and cheaper, but still a bit of a hassle for Finns traveling to the US.

It’s a small hassle my children can avoid, not to mention the longer lines and probing questions at immigration that non-citizens have to endure. That's one of the perks they, as dual citizens, enjoy along with all the other rights of Americans, though they’ve spent their entire lives in Finland. 

When my boys were young, however, I worried they might lose those rights when they turned 18. Finnish men of that age must register for military or civilian service, and according to the law at the time dual citizens joining the Finnish army had to give up their other citizenship. Thankfully, the law was changed before my sons had to choose between being Finnish or American. 

I would never give up my US citizenship myself, and have never much felt the need to take on Finnish citizenship. I have permanent residency here. I can come and go and work as I please. The only complication is that whenever I renew my passport, I need to have a new stamp added.

Lately I have been thinking that after being a resident for 25 or so odd years, maybe it’s time to apply for become a kansalainen as well. And maybe, just maybe, after a few months of cramming I could even pass the very daunting language exam required to apply. If not, it’s no big deal, since I’m perfectly happy with the citizenship I have.

Pollen Nation

Here in Finland we have been enjoying a glorious, warm spring, already hitting daytime high in the 20s (70s Fahrenheit), with the gray and brown landscape left behind by melting snow rapidly morphing into brilliant shades of green.

Only, not everyone is completely enjoying this stunning and sunny transformation. As you would expect in a northern country where summers are short, Nature here is on a tight schedule once the long winter is over. All the plants and animals are in a hurry to make hay while the summer sun shines, especially the plants. With the coming of longer and warmer days, trees such the ubiquitous birch seem to leaf out overnight and release their pollen to the wind with a vengeance.

Anatomy of a spring-time nuisance,
Silver Birch (Betula pendula). 

“Vengeance” is exactly how the early-spring spike in pollen must feel to the hundreds of thousands of Finns who suffer from allergies. The main culprits at the moment are birch and alder pollen, to be replaced later by grass as the biggest tormentor of noses, eyes and throats.

This year has been worse than normal for pollen. A thin, green layer of the stuff seems to coat all surfaces – like my car – left untouched by water or wet rags. We’ve had very little rain to wash the tiny floating particles from the air. Even people like me, who are luckily not normally affected by any kind pollen, are experiencing some reactions this spring. Others are suffering miserably.

The University of Turku, which monitors the pollen situation in Finland, has reported the highest levels here in almost twenty years. What’s more, as of last week, every part of the country is experiencing the highest levels of birch pollen, all at the same time. So, for now at least, the entire nation is suffering the effects of spring in runny-eyed solidarity. It might not cause anyone to wish for the return of winter, but maybe a few well-time spring showers would be, um, just what the doctor ordered.  

The Biblical Arizona

A few weeks ago, the governor of Arizona Jan Brewer signed into law a bill that seems to attempt an end-run around the separation of church and state. Though Arizona prohibits the teaching of any religion in public schools, this new law, crafted by Tea Party champion Terri Proud, now makes an exception in the case of the Christian Bible. The law allows high schools to offer an elective course on “The Bible and its Influence on Western Culture”.

"Defender" of the Faith, Jan Brewer.
Photo by Gage Skidmore

The law was prompted by a fear among some conservatives that Christianity is losing its grip in American life, and is apparently similar to laws already on the books in five other states, including my native Georgia. To explain the rationale behind the law, Terri Proud was cited as saying that Arizona students will be missing out if they aren’t aware of the Biblical roots of such expressions as “an eye for an eye” or “on the road to Damascus.”

To counter this unhappy prospect, the Arizona law would require classes on the Bible to cover the “characters, poetry and narratives that are prerequisites to understanding society and culture, including literature, art, music, mores, oratory and public policy”, as well as the “influence of the Old and New Testament on laws, history, government, literature, art, music, customs, morals, values and culture.”  Whew.

Sounds kind of redundant to me, and unnecessary.

First of all, the idea that Christianity is rapidly fading away in America, perhaps the most religion-obsessed advanced country in the world, seems completely ridiculous. There are hundreds of thousands of places where children can learn about the Bible. They are called churches. And they don’t seem to lack for business.

Georgia, the first state to implement Arizona-style Bible courses in public schools five years ago, is already scaling back the classes due to low levels of interest. In the beginning, the classes were offered in 48 of Georgia’s 180 school districts, according to the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. This year, that number has fallen to only 16 school districts. Obviously, there’s no huge pent-up demand out there for scripture studies that’s not already being met in, say, Sunday School.

Second of all, I would love to sit in on a course like the one Rep. Proud is promoting. I’ve got nothing against exploring the influence of the Bible, objectively that is. I wouldn’t say such studies would be very useful for "understanding society", but there’s no harm in knowing that da Vinci’s “Last Supper” was inspired by, wait for it, the Last Supper. Or, as a less obvious example, knowing that when Bob Dylan sings “in a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes” he’s talking about Calvary. It won’t help you get a job, but it might come in handy in a game of Trivial Pursuit.

What bothers me, however, is the notion that the Bible is, or needs to be, at the center of American life. It’s a fevered dream that certain conservatives like to force on the public.

Biblical themes, of course, are found throughout the arts (the Pope, after all, didn’t pay Michelangelo to cover the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel with scenes from Aesop’s Fables). And you can’t argue that the Bible, or at least Christianity, didn’t forever deflect the course of human history.

St. Paul on road to Damascus in a
15th-century French illumination. 

But when it comes to American government and law, I suspect the Holy Book doesn’t have nearly as much real impact as Rep. Proud would like to think.

Where in the Bible do you find anything about representative democracy? Freedom of speech? Trial by jury? If the Old Testament has been such an influence on our laws and government, why aren’t the Ten Commandments woven into the US legal system? Why isn’t coveting your neighbor’s wife and/or house a punishable offense in any US state? Where are the federal laws against taking God’s name in vain?

Let’s take Rep. Proud’s examples of phrases kids should know in order to better participate in American society. I’ve never seen “on the road to Damascus” used outside the context of St. Paul’s conversion, so it’s not as if it’s going to pop up in some office e-mail, leaving you wondering what the hell your boss is talking about. It’s more useful to know the meaning of such antique phrases as “the die is cast”, though you would typically run across this only in e-mails from your most melodramatic colleagues.

Also, it’s fine knowing the origin of “an eye for an eye”, but what does that have to do with modern American life? It may be a principle of jurisprudence in Saudi Arabia, but definitely doesn’t belong in the US.

Perhaps bringing to light such a point would make a high school Bible class worthwhile after all. An Arizona sophomore might learn that Jesus’ view of “an eye for an eye” was:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth’. But I say to you, do not resist an evildoer. If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.” (Matthew 5:38-39)

An excellent start, if there ever was one, for a classroom discussion on whether there really should be a greater role for the Bible in American public life. Just think, what if George Bush had followed Biblical principles in response to what happen on Sept. 11, 2001, and actually had turned the other cheek to al-Qaeda? Some of those righteous folks in Arizona would surely have wanted to crucify him. Literally.  

Bible Stories

Last year, while visiting the Royal Museum of Fine Arts in Brussels, my daughter and I came upon a painting that depicts Abraham on the verge of slitting the throat of his son, Isaac. When you find yourself gazing at such a scene with your own child, you feel compelled to explain it. 

“Ah, this is Abraham sacrificing his son,” I said. Or something to that effect. The look I received from my daughter in response to this bit of fine art commentary told me she had no idea what I was talking about.

The Sacrifice of Issac, by Caravaggio.

It was an epiphany of sorts. I realized that my teenage daughter didn’t know very much about Bible stories, those well-worn tales I grew up hearing about over and over.

I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Because my wife and I don’t belong to any official church, or any church for that matter, our children aren’t required to take religion classes in Finnish public schools. (They have studied ethics, instead.) Hence, they haven’t been routinely exposed to the 3500-year-old folktales of a pastoral civilization inhabiting the far end of the Mediterranean – much in the same way they haven’t exactly been steeped in the verses of the Bhagavad Gita.   

Since the incident between Abraham and Isaac didn’t ring a bell with my daughter, I was curious to know what other Biblical references were unfamiliar to her.

By the way, I’ve always found this particular Bible story to be particularly horrific. What young child isn’t comforted by the fact that if God commands a father to murder his child – or the father thinks that little voice he hears in his head is God speaking – then the only righteous thing to do is step up to the plate and commit filicide? Or, should we find comfort in the fact that God actually stopped Abraham at the last moment? No harm, no foul. And all this time you thought it was only the Greek gods who toyed around with puny mortals.

Anyway, that evening back at the hotel, I cycled through various other classic Bible stories to see whether my daughter knew them:  Noah and the Flood, the Tower of Babel, the Parting of the Red Sea, Jonah and the Whale. Some were familiar to her, others not at all.

This seemed kind of a shame to me. At first. Even if you don’t believe the stories in the Bible, they are so interwoven into western civilization and culture that I couldn’t help feeling my daughter was lacking some basic knowledge.

Just think of all the music and art inspired by this or that tale from the Bible. There are countless references in books or songs (or even the Simpsons) based on something some ancient Israelite did in some hamlet that only Indiana Jones would have ever heard of. Yikes, without the Bible, there would have been no premise to Raiders of the Lost Ark in the first place.

An angel staying Abraham's hand in a
14th-century Icelandic illuminated manuscript. 

As I thought about it more, though, I began to wonder if it really was such a loss not to be well versed in Bible verses. How crucial is it for someone in Finland in the year 2012 not to know that Joseph’s brothers sold him into slavery because they envied the favorite-son status that had earned him a very colorful coat?

I know, I know. For Jewish people, such stories are an important part of their heritage. It’s less clear to me why Christians should care, even if they have adopted, more or less, the sacred texts of Judaism as a kind of elaborate back-story to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. (And I realize that the parts of the Old Testament that have been adopted and those that are ignored raise all kinds of doctrinal questions that are way above my pay grade, and besides I could care less about.)

It’s hard see why these old traditions should be relevant to modern everyday life, even for believers. Don’t get me wrong. I’m one of those nerdy types who think it’s good to know about all kinds of legends and myths, the stories of Hercules, King Arthur, Romulus and Remus, the Valkyries, so on and so forth. At least on a superficial level.

I’m not saying it’s all useful information, but I still think in many ways it’s more important to know that Venus was born on a half-shell, or that Jesus was born in a manger, than to know that Kim Kardashian is currently doing, well, whatever it is that Kim Kardashian does.   

At the same time, I think the Cassandras who might lament the decline of western society because no one reads Plato anymore are overreacting. That goes double for all the Jeremiahs who gnash their teeth over the fear that your average American has not been sufficiently indoctrination by  stories from the Bible. Which brings us to Arizona – and the topic for the next post.