Watching the first Moon landing on my family’s old black and white TV remains one of my most vivid childhood memories. The grainy images of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin bouncing across the lunar surface captivated me. Through the 1970’s, I was obsessed with the idea of space travel and devoured science fiction novels with the enthusiasm that some other teens devoted to rock music and pot. It seemed self-evident to me that by the year 2001 we would have orbiting space colonies, lunar bases, and regular expeditions to the outer planets. None of that happened, of course. Instead, we got laptops, smartphones, and the Internet–cool stuff, to be sure, but hardly the whiz-bang future I had hoped for. Today, when I walk down the street perusing my IPhone, passing people young and old doing the same, I can’t help but feel that an opportunity was missed. It seems that rather than seeking adventure in space we have turned inward, retreated into isolated, ever-contracting shells to protect ourselves from the realities of terrorism, global warming, economic collapse, or we know not what.

That slow contraction was challenged on September 27 when Elon Musk, the founder of SpaceX and Tesla Motors, unveiled his audacious plan to send colonists to Mars. For an hour and a half Musk made a case for interplanetary expansion that was both info-laden and aspirational. Over the next 50 years, he and his team of engineers would like to send a thousand giant spaceships from Earth to Mars, delivering up to a million people to the Red Planet and establishing a second home for humankind in our solar system. In time, under Musk’s vision, our civilization could even expand to the moons of Jupiter and Saturn and beyond. The emphasis was on the transportation side of the equation, which makes sense, since Musk runs a rocket company. How humans would survive once they landed on Mars was left for further discussion.

To a lifetime space enthusiast like me, this audacious proposal hit like a bolt of futuristic lightning, the answer to a cherished dream that had seemed to be evaporating. In other words, the 12 year old inside me geeked out. I can understand, however, that some thoughtful people will be skeptical about Elon Musk’s plan and that many will regard it as folly and perhaps even a dangerous distraction from the serious crises humanity faces today. The same three question arise whenever the topic of human space exploration comes up. Why risk lives on such a hazardous venture? Why invest resources that might be better spent elsewhere? Why undertake such a fantastic enterprise when we might instead work to eliminate global poverty or save the environment?

My answer to the first of these whys is simple: the human heart aches for new frontiers. From the instant the first Homo Sapiens appeared on the scene, our ancestors ventured outward, defying the forces of nature in search of knowledge and new homelands in a bold expression of our desire for the Infinite. The Mystery has clearly created us as a wayfaring species, always yearning to discover what lies beyond the horizon. In the last three hundred years, as we have become aware of the incomprehensible immensity of our universe, the men and women of our time have once again felt the urge to push outward toward the unknown. Sending robots to explore the solar system will never be enough for these intrepid souls. They are willing to risk danger and death, as our ancestors once did, to answer the call of the stars.

As to why we should expend resources on a Mars venture, just look at the numbers. According to Elon Musk’s estimate, he will need to raise about $10 billion in the next few years to get started, which is about one-tenth what Americans currently spend in a single year on video gaming. Consider that we blew $7 billion last year celebrating Halloween. We will shell out about $70 billion in 2016 on lottery tickets. By comparison, the proposed investment in interstellar colonization seems downright frugal.

The third why is perhaps the most difficult to answer. At the core of this question is the suspicion that advocates of space settlement simply want to avoid facing problems here on Earth. Looking at my own experience, I recognize there was an element of escapism to my childhood fascination with space. It seems evident to me, however, that even if humanity were to suddenly “grow up” and somehow eliminate all poverty, disease, and hunger from the planet, our species would still be at risk. As Musk pointed out, sooner or later an asteroid will strike the Earth or a dormant mega-volcano will blow its top. Such extinction level events are inevitable and threaten to wipe out all life on Earth, at least for a time. The planet we call home is beautiful, but also precarious. It would indeed be wise to increase humanity’s odds of survival by spreading across the solar system and, someday perhaps, to other star systems as well.

A more immediate danger is that our current withdrawal into unreality will escalate. Our children, consumed by computer games, will soon be tempted to retreat into entirely virtual worlds, safely cocooned from the worries and banalities of everyday life. That future is a living death. It seems to me that the Lord has provided us with a powerful weapon against such a fate in the cosmos itself. No computer simulation will ever come close to equaling the majesty and wonder of creation. Humanity has been gifted with a super abundance of marvelous worlds to explore and settle, if we wish.

These new lands will never be utopias to be sure. Building any space settlement will be an exhausting effort, with inevitable setbacks and tragedies. Moreover, wherever humans trek, they will bring selfishness and greed with them, sin and suffering, and conflicts of every variety. However, I am also sure that when the first settlers finally arrive on Mars, some of them will discover that the Lord has been waiting for them, a friendly Presence who will want to share in their struggles. As a Christian, it blows my mind to realize there could someday be communities of faith on an alien world. Imagine a man kneeling in prayer on the slopes of Olympus Mons or two friends arguing over the nature of existence among the rings of Saturn. The great drama that began 2,000 years ago will continue to unfold on worlds that the Apostles had no idea existed.

Alas, I will be too old and earthbound to make the trip myself. But my heart and prayers will go with those humans brave enough to board Elon Musk’s awesome spaceships and blast away to Mars and beyond. May the Lord go with you, my friends! Be fruitful and multiply, share the Gospel wherever you go, and live the human adventure to the fullest!