What you see is what you get? Not necessarily. When I was born (1923), most people, including astronomers, thought the Milky Way was it—the only galaxy in the heavens. This morning’s Writer’s Almanac blew that out of the water: “It was 90 years ago today, in 1924, that astronomer Edwin Hubble announced his discovery of the first galaxy outside our Milky Way.”
Since then, astrophysicists have identified a jillion galaxies in the expanding universe, each with uncounted millions of stars and their planets. Fittingly, when NASA sent its orbiting telescope aloft 25 years ago, they name it the Hubble Space Telescope. It’s still working, joined by still more sophisticated space-probes.
That led me to friend McGoogle to review the scope of outer space. The Milky Way and our Sun are barely specs; Mother Earth hardly bears mention. Zoom in on Earth, and you can locate your town and your home with your car in the drive. A song from childhood came to mind: Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. I grabbed onto me.
I believe the Bible as God gave it. But just as my childhood view of the skies has grown with new information, so has my view of the Bible. In childhood I filtered all views through the tribal telescope—teachings of my home and church. Then new tools expanded my vision and deepened my love for scripture.
Yet, according to one pastor, I no longer believe the Bible. I believe the universe is infinitely vaster and older than my childhood vision allowed. I considered the heavens, the work of God’s hands, and I asked, What is mankind, who am I, that God should take notice?
Just as space holds mysteries beyond the ken of science, God’s ways outstrip my wildest imaginings. Thus, mystery heads my creed with utter dependence on God’s grace close behind. Then, incarnation: God became man to teach me all I can know about his love and grace. All the rest is up for grabs—mystery.
My view of the Bible will not satisfy the accusing pastor, but that’s his problem.
Old Grandpa Lloyd