As recently as 1916, astronomers thought that the Milky Way was the entire universe. Now they know better: the Milky Way has been recognized as only one among more than a million other galaxies!
This fact I learned recently during a talk given by a university astrophysicist who stands at the forefront of research into the far reaches of the universe. Like other information coming from scientists who study the skies, this news filled me with awe.
To imagine the immensity of distances across galaxies stirs me to realize how easily I sell short the wonder of it all. Astronomers measure the breadth of the Milky Way as only one hundred thousand light years across. And there are so many other galaxies at least as wide.
The number of stars in our galaxy comes to one hundred billion, a figure easy to say but incredibly difficult to grasp.
Our earth and the orbit in which it spins count for so little by comparison with the vast spaces and the other bodies within them. And even when our lives last long, their total time amounts to only one millisecond in the age of the universe.
Such knowledge challenges us to revise our notions of God and of our own lives. The temptation to narrow the divine to a merely human scale must be resisted if we are to preserve an appropriately awesome sense of the creator. And human life, set in a vast universe, emerges as even more precious than we usually think.
To not a few people, modern scientific discoveries about the size of the universe have been unwelcome and troubling. These findings, made possible in part by huge mountain telescopes, far from distrac6ing city lights, have threatened some familiar notions of religious faith. At least these discoveries put that faith to the test: is God really greater than the almost unimaginably vast universe?
But people of faith can embrace expanding knowledge of an expanding universe. We can interpret the growing scientific understanding of creation as a call to become discontent with the limits of our grasp of who God is. Whatever we think or say about the divine being, God goes beyond. That is what it means to call the creator infinite.
And an expansive view of the universe can help us appreciate more the wonder of our own lives. For each of us to exist at all, forces in the universe had to make it possible. You could easily imagine changes in those worlds that would have prevented our being born.
One moral of this way of thinking is to appreciate our life with deeper awareness. Some religious traditions regard “mindfulness” as an important value. I have some problems with this idea: to me, it can put too much pressure on people to have them always consciously aware of reality.
But certain times devoted to mindfulness can be valuable indeed. To choose times for reflecting on the wonder of our lives makes important sense. It can enrich our days to develop the habit of contemplation about who we are and how we fit in this vast universe. Contemplation of the vast spaces should not be the preserve of astronomers; it’s there for the rest of us to grasp at also.
When it comes to talking about meaning and ultimate answers, most scientists are reserved. Given that their profession is oriented toward observation, experimentation, and quantifiable data, this shyness is appropriate. But, since they are also human beings, they want to know more than their scientific disciplines can teach them. So they have their own views about issues that go beyond what they can measure or theorize about.
At the conclusion of his 1996 book “Our Evolving Universe,” my friend Malcolm Longair, an eminent astronomer who teaches at Cambridge University in England, tells of an exchange that he had with the chaplain of Trinity College there. After they had discussed recent findings of astronomy, the chaplain said “Whatever the correct theory for the origin of our Universe, I never cease to wonder at the work of God’s hands.”
In concluding his book, Professor Longair offers this simple and direct appraisal of the chaplain’s statement: “That seems to me a very healthy and proper attitude.”
Richard Griffin