Written by Mike Soika
I’m a sailor and have sailed across Lake Michigan and cruised the Apostle Islands on Lake Superior several times. On most trips I’ve been able to see a portion of the Milky Way during the night crossing or while resting at anchor away from city lights. Witnessing that cloud of stars far off into space is a humbling experience. I try to ponder its vastness, but ultimately fail to do so.
In the picture above, I show where we sit in the Milky Way Galaxy. Our sun is only one of possibly 400 billion stars in this galaxy alone. And, there are an estimated 200 billion galaxies, each with over 100 billion stars.
My mind is too small to hold the concept of a cosmos with billions of galaxies and trillions of stars in it. I can intellectually understand the idea of trillions of stars in space, but can’t really grasp how magnificent that number actually is.
I get that same overwhelming sense of awe and wonder when I grapple with the concept of an infinite God.
Trying to comprehend trillions of stars is difficult enough, but trying to comprehend the Divine that is infinite is beyond me. So, I don’t try. I am quite content to ponder the essence of Divine that is nearby.
Like the pantheists, I believe that God is incarnate within everything in the universe. The spirit of the Divine is in stars and planets as well as in animals, plants, amoebas, and in each of us. But, my belief goes one step further. I believe that God is woven into the fabric of the universe and that God is the weaver of the fabric, which I guess makes me a panentheist.
I have learned that God is not really to be pondered in the way that we ponder the stars of the universe, but rather, the Divine is to be brought to life in the world through our actions.
I like the idea of a God that is approachable. I like the intimacy of the Divine whispering in my heart, egging me on to a deeper sense of love and vulnerability; dragging me further into the actions of the world than I sometimes want to go.
I had a mystical encounter with God while sailing on Lake Michigan. It was a warm Wednesday night in July and we were sailing back from a race. It was one of those rare moments on the lake when we can see the pink glow of the western setting sun over the city while at the same time, the yellow moon was rising off the eastern horizon of the lake. I closed my eyes to feel the warm wind on my face and to give thanks for this splendid and very special moment when I had a thought, one that has guided me ever since. In my mind I heard these words: “This and thee are the glory of God.”
I could easily believe that the setting sun and the rising moon and the beauty of the lake can be the glory of God. But for the first time in my life I understood, that I too am the glory of God. That each of us is as much a wonderous work of the Divine as is the Milky Way, as is the smell of rain in the spring, as is the tenderness of a child sleeping in our arms.
I could not believe in a God that was only an infinite being and as remote as the vastness of space. I need a God that is intimate, one who is near, one whose divine love is as tangible as the sound of my beating heart as I sit silently waiting.