Last week, I got into a discussion about time and the quantum universe on Facebook. Yes, this sort of thing happens in my newsfeed. A friend who is a physicist had started the discussion thread—he’d been pondering some ideas as he drove home from work, and decided to share them in a group we’re both part of.
I never took physics. I didn’t even take chemistry. I enjoyed science in school, but my math skills are abysmal. When the math required in my science classes got beyond me, I found other sciences to study. But I’ve always been fascinated by science—particularly physics and astronomy—and while much of my friend’s post was beyond my understanding, I still loved entering the discussion with him and sharing my thoughts on the topic.
I have a cursory knowledge of the concepts of quantum mechanics, and I’ve spent many hours thinking about time and God and man and the relationship between us all. You may be asking yourself why I would spend time thinking about these things. And there may be more practical ways I could spend my brainpower. But here’s why I don’t see my thinking on those topics as a waste: it leads me to worship.
An Infinite God
When I get talking with a physicist about quantum mechanics, or when I start reading about the nature of time, or when I think about how God and man view time differently, I reach the end of my knowledge pretty quickly. There is something utterly thrilling to me about walking to the very edge of my comprehension of a concept I know is so much bigger than I grasp, and staring beyond it—to the reaches of space, the foggy abyss of knowledge—and knowing that I cannot see it, I can only glimpse, but there is Truth out there and One who understands it.
I’m a fairly intelligent person with a broad knowledge base, but there is so much I don’t know and even more I don’t understand. And for me, it is in that space at the edge of my knowledge that I most often meet God. Whether I’m learning about the microscopic details of cellular regeneration or the macroscopic expanse of the universe, He is there. Whether I’m navigating the intricacies of a relationship with a friend or the general mores and norms of a new culture, He is there. Whether I’m exploring the patterns of human history or the technology of the future, He is there.
I serve an infinite God who is bigger than the galaxies and smaller than a quark. He is more complex than the most complicated equation and simpler than 1+1=2. He is more lovely than the greatest creation of art and present when humanity practices the darkest kinds of destruction. He is a greater adventure than the most extreme sport and more comforting than the simplest pleasure. He is all these things and so much more—and it is only when I reach the end of myself that I can even begin to explore Him.