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On a cloudless November night in 1572, Tycho Brahe observed an unusually bright star in the northern sky that suddenly appeared in the constellation Cassiopeia. It had been assumed since antiquity that anything beyond the moon's orbit was eternally immutable. That star, SN 1572, is now classified as a supernova that is 7,500 light-years from Earth.
By 1592, Tycho Brahe had cataloged 777 stars. His mapping of those fixed stars blazed a trail for his protege, Johannes Kepler, to discover the laws that govern planetary motion. Several centuries later, it was a telescope named in Kepler's honor—the Kepler space telescope—that would catalog 530,506 stars.
Tycho Brahe is widely regarded as the greatest observer of the skies who had ever lived, but even Brahe couldn't have imagined the existence of half a million stars. And that's the tip of the iceberg. Astronomers now estimate the existence of more than two trillion gal¬axies. Each of those two trillion galaxies has an average of one hundred billion stars. Do the math, and that adds up to two hundred sextillion stars in the observable universe.
The point? Creation is much larger than any of us can imagine! And the same goes for the Creator. Like Tycho Brahe, some of us are quite content with our catalog of 777 stars. We think that's all there is. We've settled for a god we can measure and manage. If that's you, your god is too small.
Possible Preaching Angle: Why did God tell Abram to count the stars? (Gen. 15:5). God was messing with his mind, in a good way. He was giving Abram a nightlight—a visual reminder of both his history and his destiny. The same God who hung the stars in the sky can give you descendants. Faith adds God to every equation. When you do that, five loaves plus two fish equals all-you-can-eat for five thousand people. And there is more left over than you started with.
Source: Mark Batterson, A Million Little Miracles (Multnomah, 2024), pp. 4, 21
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so My ways are higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9
To give these verses some perspective, the distance from one side of the universe to the other is an incredible 93 billion light-years. Using this as our measure, God likens the distance between our thoughts and his thoughts to the distance from one side of the universe to the other.
To put that immense number another way, 93 billion light-years is 544 septillion miles (544 followed by 20 zeros). Even if we tried to travel from one side of the universe to the other at the speed of light (5.88 trillion miles a year), it would take an infinite amount of time. That's because the universe will continue to expand whilst you are travelling, even at the speed of light. So, the edge of the universe will remain forever sealed off from you — even travelling at the speed of light.
That means that your best thought on your best day is ninety-three billion light-years short of how great God really is.
Possible Preaching Angles: Greatness of God; Omniscience of God; Trusting God – The immense wisdom, insight, and love of God should calm our fears. You may not understand your current crisis and worry about the outcome, but God is in control, His love for you is everlasting, His plan for you will happen, and you can rest secure that your Father is watching over you.
Source: Adapted from Mark Batterson, A Million Little Miracles (Multnomah, 2024), pp. xvii-xviii; Fraser-Govil, Ph.D., Wellcome Sanger Institute, Quora (Accessed 2/23/25)
Blogger Stephanie Duncan Smith describes the awe she felt watching a total solar eclipse:
[My husband] Zach and I hiked up to a ridge with our supernova glasses. I won’t forget the way the sun just … dimmed, snuffed out, the way the birds swooped in confusion thinking it was nightfall, the magic of witnessing this cosmic event together.
Though not everyone felt that way. I am paraphrasing from memory, but a high-profile CEO tweeted at the time that while everyone else might be staring at the sky through their cereal boxes that day, she would be in the office making millions.
Imagine being bored by the thought of beholding something bigger than yourself, something wild and other and alive. Imagine considering yourself “above” the cosmic orbit in which you make your creaturely home. This executive considered herself too busy to be bothered by the wonder of a world outside herself. She was opting for the security of the measurable, the predictable, all that can be calculated and forecast and scaled. Yet by doing so, she was opting out of the sheer gift of being wowed.
It is human nature to want to be wowed. Environmentalist Paul Hawken once said, “Ralph Waldo Emerson once asked what we would do if the stars only came out once every thousand years. No one would sleep that night, of course … We would be ecstatic, delirious, made rapturous by the glory of God. Instead, the stars come out every night and we watch television.”
Every night! There is a cosmic event. Every night, an invitation to participate in what psychologists refer to as the experience of “perceived vastness,” or awe. As Hawken highlights here, we tend to tune out the familiar.
Source: Stephanie Duncan Smith, The Art of Making the Common Uncommon, “Slant Letter with Stephanie Duncan Smith” (4-8-24)
In his recent book, Paul Tripp describes a trip to the see world’s tallest skyscraper:
Wherever you go in Dubai, you are confronted with the Burj Khalifa the world's tallest building. Impressive skyscrapers are all around Dubai, but the Burj Khalifa looms over them all with majestic glory. At 2,716 feet (just over half a mile) it dwarfs buildings that would otherwise leave you in mouth-gaping awe. As you move around Dubai, you see all of these buildings and you say to yourself again and again, "How in the world did they build that?" But the Burj Khalifa is on an entirely other scale.
Even from far away, it was hard to crank my head back far enough to see all the way to the top. The closer I got, the more imposing and amazing this structure became. As I walked, there was no thought of the other buildings in Dubai that had previously impressed me. As amazing as those buildings were, they were simply not comparable in stunning architectural grandeur and perfection to this one.
When I finally got to the base of the Burj Khalifa, I felt incredibly small, like an ant at the base of a light pole. I entered a futuristic looking elevator and, in what seemed like seconds, was on the 125th floor. This was not the top of the building, because that was closed to visitors. As I stepped to the windows to get a feel for how high I was and to scan the city of Dubai, I immediately commented on how small the rest of the buildings looked. Those "small" buildings were skyscrapers that, in any other city, would have been the buildings that you wanted to visit. They looked small, unimpressive, and not worthy of attention, let alone awe. I had experienced the greatest, which put what had impressed me before into proper perspective.
By means of God's revelation of himself in Scripture, we see that there is no perfection like God's perfection. There is no holiness as holy as God's holiness. If you allow yourself to gaze upon his holiness, you will feel incredibly small and sinful. It is a good thing spiritually to have the assessments of your own grandeur decimated by divine glory.
Source: Adapted from Paul David Tripp, “Do You Believe?” (Crossway, 2021), pp. 102-103
Philip Yancey wrote in a blog on the seemingly infinite expanse of space and the smallness of our earth by comparison. The sheer scale is enough to make you dizzy, but Yancey stares at the sky and recalls the Book of Job—and Jesus. He writes:
Scientists now believe that if you had unlimited vision, you could hold a sewing needle at arm’s length toward the night sky and see 10,000 galaxies in the eye of the needle. Move it an inch to the left and you’d find 10,000 more. Same to the right, or no matter where else you moved it. There are approximately a trillion galaxies out there, each encompassing an average of 100 to 200 billion stars.
Job got a closeup lesson on how puny we humans are compared to the God of the universe, and it silenced all his doubts and complaints. I’ve never experienced anything like the travails Job endured. But whenever I have my own doubts, I try to remember that perspective — the Hubble telescope view of God.
In his letter to the Philippians, the apostle Paul quotes what many believe to be a hymn from the early church. In a … lyrical paragraph, Paul marvels that Jesus gave up all the glory of heaven to take on the form of a man — and not just a man, but a servant — one who voluntarily subjected himself to an ignominious death on a cross. (Phil 2:6-7)
I pause and wonder at the mystery of Incarnation. In an act of humility beyond comprehension, the God of a trillion galaxies chose to “con-descend” — to descend to be with — the benighted humans on this one rebellious planet, out of billions in the universe. I falter at analogies, but it is akin to a human becoming an ant, perhaps, or an amoeba, or even a bacterium. Yet according to Paul, that act of condescension proved to be a rescue mission that led to the healing of something broken in the universe. […]
We hear the roar of God at the end of the Book of Job, a voice that evokes awe and wonder more than intimacy and love. Yet Philippians 2 gives a different slant on the Hubble telescope view of God. A God beyond the limits of space and time has a boundless capacity of love for his creations, no matter how small or rebellious they might be.
Source: Todd Brewer, “The God of the Cosmos,” Mockingbird (2-11-22) adapted from Philip Yancey blog, “The Incredible Shrinking Planet,” PhilipYancey.com (2-17-22)
In his book With, author Skye Jethani describes the mausoleum of Galla Placidia in Italy:
Fifteen hundred years ago, the emperor of Rome built a tomb for his beloved sister. The small building was designed in the shape of a cross with a vaulted ceiling covered with mosaics of swirling stars in an indigo sky. The focal point of the mosaic ceiling was a depiction of Jesus the Good Shepherd surrounded by sheep in an emerald paradise.
The mausoleum of Galla Placidia still stands in Ravenna, Italy, and has been called “the earliest and best preserved of all mosaic monuments” and one of the “most artistically perfect.” But visitors who have admired its mosaics in travel books will be disappointed when they enter the mausoleum. The structure has only tiny windows, and what light does enter is usually blocked by a mass of tourists. The “most artistically perfect” mosaic monument, the inspiring vision of the Good Shepherd in a starry paradise, is hidden behind a veil of darkness.
But the impatient who leave the chapel will miss a stunning unveiling. With no advance notice, spotlights near the ceiling are turned on when a tourist finally manages to drop a coin into the small metal box along the wall. The lights illuminate the iridescent tiles of the mosaic but only for a few seconds. One visitor described the experience: “The lights come on. For a brief moment, the briefest of moments—the eye doesn’t have time to take it all in, the eye casts about—the dull, hot darkness overhead becomes a starry sky, a dark-blue cupola with huge, shimmering stars that seem startlingly close. ‘Ahhhhh!’ comes the sound from below, and then the light goes out, and again there’s darkness, darker even than before.”
The bright burst of illumination is repeated over and over again, divided by darkness of unpredictable length. Each time the lights come on, the visitors are given another glimpse of the world behind the shadows, and their eyes capture another element previously unseen—deer drinking from springs, Jesus gently reaching out to his sheep that look lovingly at their Shepherd. After seeing the mosaic, one visitor wrote: “I have never seen anything so sublime in my life! Makes you want to cry!”
It is difficult to experience the glory of God in our daily lives and when we do, it is only for brief moments. Yet, there are time when God breaks through the darkness of this world and reveals himself for a brief moment. Like Isaiah’s experience (Isa. 6:1-5), these moments should be life changing.
Source: Skye Jethani, With (Thomas Nelson, 2011), pp. 1-2
Physicist Alan Lightman is a professor at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He is known for specializing in the intersection between science, philosophy, religion, and spirituality. He writes about a profound, transcendent experience in his life:
It was a moonless night, and quiet. The only sound I could hear was the soft churning of the engine of my boat. Far from the distracting lights of the mainland, the sky vibrated with stars. I turned off my running lights, and it got even darker. Then I turned off my engine. I lay down in the boat and looked up. A very dark night sky seen from the ocean is a mystical experience.
After a few minutes, my world had dissolved into that star-littered sky. The boat disappeared. My body disappeared. And I found myself falling into infinity. A feeling came over me I’d not experienced before. ... And the vast expanse of time — extending from the far distant past long before I was born and then into the far distant future long after I will die — seemed compressed to a dot. I felt connected not only to the stars but to all of nature, and to the entire cosmos. I felt a merging with something far larger than myself, a grand and eternal unity, a hint of something absolute.
Lightman is in awe of nature but is unsure where that should lead him:
It is almost as if Nature in her glory wants us to believe in a heaven, something divine and immaterial beyond nature itself. In other words, Nature tempts us to believe in the supernatural. But then again, Nature has also given us big brains, allowing us to build microscopes and telescopes and ultimately, for some of us, to conclude that it’s all just atoms and molecules. It’s a paradox.
God offers unbelievers opportunities to consider the meaning of life, eternity, and their place in it. Some, like this professor will taste and then turn away (Heb. 6:4-10), while others will recognize the hand of Almighty God and bow before him (Ps. 8, Ps. 19).
Source: Maria Popova, “Alan Lightman on the Longing for Absolutes in a Relative World and What Gives Lasting Meaning to Our Lives,” Brain Pickings (3-27-18)
The March/April 2016 issue of Psychology Today attempted to give readers several reasons to cultivate a sense of awe and wonder with their article "It's Not All About You!" The article mentioned the following secular sources about our need for awe and wonder:
Source: Carlin Flora, "It's Not All About You!" Psychology Today, (March-April, 2016)
In the heart of Manhattan, in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, hangs a famous painting by the 16th century Spanish El Greco. The painting, titled The Vision of St. John, was completed around 1614. But it looks like it could have been painted in Paris in the early twentieth century. Its feel is not only modern but also contemporary. Evoking the opening of the Fifth Seal in Revelation 6:9-11, the martyrs who bore faithful witness to Christ are given white robes while John (it seems) looks heavenward toward the epiphany of the Lamb. The colors of the painting are themselves a startling revelation of another reality.
But the painting as we view it today is only a fragment. The canvas that hangs in the Met doesn't tell the whole story. In the course of a "restoration" project around 1880, the unfinished canvas was trimmed by at least 68 inches (or almost half the original painting). In the name of "improvement," the scene is truncated by almost half. And so, in what seems a fitting parable of modernity, the exultant arms of the Apostle John reach upward to—nothing: to the top of the frame, to the edge of the canvas. The martyrs seem to receive gifts from nowhere, and John seems to praise the nonexistent. All of them seem to look for something no longer there.
You can view the painting here: http://www.metmuseum.org/collection/the-collection-online/search/436576
Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Secularism—Is it possible that much of our world operates the same way? In other words, we've been cut off from the Source of reality, the Source of all that is good and true. Is it possible that someone has trimmed the frame and we no longer see that there is so much more to the beautiful portrait of life? (2) God, presence of; Faith, loss of—Is it possible that we live our lives with a sense that God is really there?
Source: Adapted from James K.A. Smith, "Cracks in the Secular," Cardus (8-7-14)
In the book Love: A History, Yale scholar Simon May calls human love our "new god." In his chapter "Love plays God" May writes: "Human love … is now tasked with achieving what once only divine love was thought capable of: to be our ultimate source of meaning and happiness." May contends that we've changed the Bible's statement "God is love" to "love is god." Here are some of the core beliefs for this new "religion of love":
May writes, "These sorts of ideas saturate popular culture … To its immense cost, human love has usurped a role that only God's love used to play."
Source: Adapted from Simon May, Love: A History (Yale University Press, 2013), pp. 1-2
The World Puzzle Championship takes place every year at locations around the globe. In 2023 the event was held in Valladolid, Spain and drew contestants from 54 countries. According to an article, these connoisseurs of puzzles "eat, dream, and on rare occasions when they sleep, dream about puzzles full time." They're the true fanatics and geniuses of the puzzle world. But the article also noted that hundreds of millions of people around the world do crossword puzzles, play Sudoku, or participate in puzzles on their computers, phones, or tablets.
Why are puzzles so wildly popular all around the globe? Will Shortz, the crossword editor of The New York Times and NPR, has this to say:
We're faced with problems every day in life, and we almost never get clarity. We jump into the middle of a problem, we carry it through to whatever extent we can to find an answer, and then … we just find the next thing. [But] with a human made puzzle you have the satisfaction of being completely in control: you start the challenge from the beginning, and you move all the way to the end. That's a satisfaction you don't get much in real life. You feel in control, and that's a great feeling.
Possible Preaching Angles: (1) Control; Self-reliance; Self-sufficiency; Pride—This story illustrates our human but prideful tendency to control our own lives rather than surrender to the Lord, asking for his help in the challenges of life. (2) Mystery—God is not a puzzle that we can figure out and control. God will always remain beyond our grasp.
Source: Lev Grossman, "The Answer Men," Time (3-11-13)
There is a story about an old man who lived in a small village:
He was the poorest man in the village, but he owned the most beautiful white stallion. And the king had offered him a small fortune for it. After a terribly harsh winter, during which the old man and his family nearly starved, the townspeople came to visit.
"Old man," they said, "you can hardly afford to feed your family. Sell the stallion, and you will be rich. If you do not, you are a fool."
"It's too early to tell," replied the old man. A few months later, the old man woke up to find that the white stallion had run away.
Once again the townspeople came, and they said to the old man, "See. If you had sold the king your horse, you would be rich. Now you have nothing! You are a fool!"
"It's too early to tell," replied the old man.
Two weeks later, the white stallion returned, and along with it came three other white stallions.
"Old man," the townspeople said, "we are the fools! Now you can sell the stallion to the king, and you will still have three stallions left. You are smart."
"It's too early to tell," said the old man.
The following week, the old man's son, his only son, was breaking in one of the stallions and was thrown, crushing both his legs.
The townspeople paid a visit to the old man, and they said, "Old man, if you had just sold the stallion to the king, you'd be rich, and your son would not be crippled. You are a fool."
"It is too early to tell," said the old man.
Well, the next month, war broke out with the neighboring village. All of the young men in the village were sent into the battle, and all were killed.
The townspeople came, and they cried to the old man, "We have lost our sons. You are the only one who has not. If you had sold your stallion to the king, your son, too, would be dead. You are so smart!"
"It's too early to tell," said the old man.
Possible Preaching Angles: The Sovereignty, Providence, or Wisdom of God / Suffering and Trials—In the midst of trials, sometimes well-meaning people try to offer explanations for why bad things happen. But usually we just don't know. Yet even when we don't have the answers, even when "It's too early to tell," God is still sovereign, and his purposes are for our good.
Source: Leonard Sweet, I Am a Follower (Thomas Nelson, 2012), pp. 72-73
According to the authors of the book America's Four Gods, Americans differ widely from one another on two key areas of belief about God: (1) the level of God's engagement in our world, and (2) the extent of God's judgment of evildoers.
In other words, is God actively and meticulously engaged in what happens in your life and in your world? Or is he distant, remote, uncaring? And secondly, does God judge wrongdoers in this life? Does God express wrath toward people and nations in this age? Or is God only kind, forgiving, and helpful to people in need?
Based on those two differences, the authors say that Americans divide into four major understandings of God.
First is the Authoritative God. The Authoritative God is very involved in the world to help people and does judge evildoers in this life. Even so, he is loving, and is seen as a Father figure. The author's research shows that 31 percent of Americans have this understanding of God.
Second is the Benevolent God. The Benevolent God is very involved in this world to help people but does not feel anger toward evildoers and does not judge anyone. Twenty-four percent of Americans have this understanding of God.
Third is the Critical God. The Critical God does not involve himself in the affairs of this world or its people, but he does take careful note of how people live and will judge them in the afterlife, holding them to account for evils done. Sixteen percent of Americans have this understanding of God.
Fourth is the Distant God. The Distant God is more a cosmic force or Higher Power than a person. This God created everything but is no longer engaged with the world and does not judge its inhabitants. Twenty-four percent of Americans have this understanding of God.
Five percent of Americans are atheists.
Concerning agnostics, the authors write: "We find that when pressed, individuals who first describe themselves as 'agnostic' are actually believers in a Distant God. For the most part, agnosticism is a reaction to conventional images of God that strike the believer as mistaken."
After describing these four beliefs about God, the authors explore at length how our beliefs about God affect our beliefs and values about morality, society, science, money and possessions, evil, warfare, and the culture wars.
Source: Paul Froese and Christopher Bader, America's Four Gods (Oxford, 2010)