The Immensity of God's Handiwork

THE PICTURE of the shape of the universe can be elaborated as a mechanical model by

using the analogy of an exploding bomb referred to by von Weizsacker and considering what

must happen to the fragments which are thus forcibly blown apart. A second or two after the

explosion of a bomb in free space, fragments will all be flying apart from each other and

there will nothing left of the exploded substance in the center where the bomb first went off.

Under more or less ideal conditions, the fragments leave this point of origin at approximately

the same speed so viewing the situation in successive moments of time, we observe

something in the nature of an expanding sphere which is entirely hollow inside, and of which

the thickness of the wall representing the space occupied by the particles of the original bomb

fly outward. The best way to illustrate this process is diagrammatic; shown on the next page.

In figure 1 we have the superdense original Uratom. In figure 2 a few seconds later,

expansion has begun. In figure 3 the outward movement of all the particles leads to the

clearance of a space in the very center which is being left vacant. It should be understood

these diagrams show a cross section of the universe which therefore may give the false

impression that we are dealing with a ring. Point of fact, we are dealing with an expanding

sphere, not a ring. In figure 4 this "cavity" is naturally enlarging as the particles fly outward.

Meanwhile the fragments themselves move out with more or less equal force and speed so

that they maintain their position in a comparatively narrow band and assume the shape of the

shell of an expanding ball which has a very definite thickness (marked t in the diagram

below), the shell itself now being comprised of all the original matter which was in the

Uratom before it began its expansion. Assuming that more matter is being created, the

expanding shell will do one of two things: it will become thinner as expansion continues in

same way that a rubber balloon becomes thinner as it is blown larger, or it will maintain its

thickness as a shell by the simple expedient of having the particles spaced more and more

distantly from each other so that the material of the universe is attenuated.

Sir Arthur Eddington put it: (31)

We can picture the stars and galaxies as embedded in the surface rubber balloon which is

being steadily inflated; so that, apart from individual motions and the effects of their ordinary

gravitational attraction for one another, celestial objects are becoming farther and farther

apart simply by inflation.

It is important to bear in mind in this picture of an "expanding universe" that the universe,

strictly speaking, is not some kind giant space like a box with no top or bottom and with the

sides knocked out. The universe is the film of the expanding balloon. There is nothing inside

of it and, as it continues to expand, successively takes up its position at a larger diameter

where there was nothing before. It is hard to think of empty space, and indeed it is probably

an entirely incorrect concept; thus it is not proper to speak of the hollow inside of the balloon

as space at all. Strictly speaking, space is where matter is, however thinly attenuated. There is

space between the orbiting electrons and the central nucleus of protons and neutrons. There is

space between one atom and the next. There is space between one solid body of atoms and

the next solid body like two apples, for example. There is space wherever an area sufficiently

occupied by atoms or by the particles of atoms that anything in between can be said to be

subject to their electromagnetic influences. Thus space is not the emptiness inside the

expanding balloon, nor is it that into which the expanding balloon is steadily encroaching by

its enlargement outward. Space is strictly the film of the balloon itself. It therefore has a finite

depth which is the thickness of the shell, but an object can move indefinitely through it by go

round and round.

Thus arises the concept of a space which is curved. And all the material in the universe

appears to be occupying this comparatively thin shell--which, however, preserves its shape

like the skin of the inflated balloon, not because there is some kind of air pressure within it,

but because repellent forces between the particles act to hold them in a kind of negative

tension and to drive them further and further apart, thus causing the whole shell to expand at

an ever-increasing speed. It is apparent that the rate of expansion is so great even now that

galaxies diametrically opposite each other in this vast shell are already flying apart at speeds

approaching the speed of light.

It seems that ultimately this giant balloon must either reach a point of equilibrium where

there is no energy left for it to push itself any further--a condition which would be one of total

entropy or, in slightly different terms, a heat death--or something might happen to reduce

these tremendous forces which drive the galaxies apart suddenly and dramatically to zero.

Then, like a pricked balloon--or better still, a pricked bubble--the whole gigantic universe

would collapse upon itself and "fold up like a garment." Indeed, the writer of the Epistle to

the Hebrews tells us that the heavens (which are the work of His hands) "shall perish...and

they shall wax old as doth a garment; and as a vesture shall [God] fold them up, and they

shall be changed" (Heb. 1:10-12).

By all present standards of measurement, the universe is indeed growing old. If the picture

which we have presented of the universe as being the film of a bubble or the shell of a

balloon is valid, what better descriptive phrase could one possibly apply to the necessary

consequence which would follow if God suddenly withdrew the energy by which He sustains

it all, than that it would fold up like a garment. How apt this all is! Scripture is not likely to

provide us with scientific information wherever we can, by our own God-given intelligence,

extract it for ourselves. But whenever we have completed our extraction and arrived at some

fairly secure conclusion, it is amazing how frequently we discover that the Word of God

anticipated our findings and got there first with a quite explicit and completely appropriate

statement!

Now, the nature of light is still not precisely understood and can be best accounted for in

contradictory terms by saying that in some ways it behaves as though it were a wave

phenomenon and in other ways as though it were a particle phenomenon, the particles being

called photons. As far back as 1873 Maxwell had shown that light radiation would exert a

pressure on any surface upon which it fell. (32) Subsequently, it was shown that a target

"flinched" under the impact of radiation from a bright light just as though a bullet had been

fired into it. It is also found that a photographic plate exposed to light increases its weight as

though something had landed upon it. All these phenomena suggest that light has some kind

of mass. What kind of mass is involved is hard to conceive, but it does appear subject to

magnetic forces, for it is bent in the presence of a mass field. If the magnetic field through

which the beam of light is passed is curved in the way that space of the universe which we

have been considering is curved, then a beam of light will not travel "straight, but will follow

the curve like a train following a long slow C predetermined for it by the railway tracks.

Thus, light reaching us from some of the distant galaxies does not reach us by striking across

the balloon by way of a short-cut but is channeled round the shell itself. Indeed, according to

Eddington, (33) some of the nebulae that we see in the heavens which are at tremendous

distances from us, millions of light-years away, may possibly be so far around in the

curvature of space that their light reaching us from the other side and we are actually seeing

the back of them. This possibility had led to the perfectly sane observation if we looked in

exactly the right direction and could see far enough we should see the back of our own head!

In point of fact, however this is quite impossible because the circumference of this whole

universe is so great that millions of years before the light reflected from the back of our head

could travel all the way around until finally reached our eyes, we should long since have

disappeared from the scene.

The scale of magnitude involved here is inconceivably great. Ordinary terms of

measurement--feet and yards and miles--become totally inadequate, and we have to fall back

upon the use of a scale involving light-years. A light-year is the distance when light would

travel in one year while moving at a speed of 186,000 miles per second. It works out at a

distance of approximately 6,000,000,000,000 miles. Some of the distant galaxies are believed

be millions of light-years away--not millions of miles merely, millions of light-years!

Moreover, the universe has already expand to such a size and the distances have become so

great that probably the greater part of it has long since passed beyond our observatory

powers. The light from these most distant galaxies simply will never reach us.

Matching these inconceivable distances are inconceivable quantities of material. As George

K. Schweitzer said: (34)

Our sun is one of about 100,000,000 000 stars which make up a giant community of

stars known as a galaxy.

Our galaxy is a member of a small cluster of 19 galaxies. They occupy a region over 3

million light-years in diameter. Nearest in space to our cluster are a few other galaxial

clusters. The first large cluster is about 30 million light-years from us, and it contains

over 1000 galaxies. On and on out into space in all directions cluster after cluster can

be seen, as far out as telescopes can reach. Over a billion galaxies can now he

observed. And this gives a total of 100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 (10^23) stars.

And in this vast immensity of space and substance, our little sun is therefore but a tiny

fragment, and our little world an even more minute particle. Can such a particle have any

significance?

It is a curious thing that man should find a peculiar delight in minimizing his own

significance in the universe. He seems to find an odd satisfaction in underscoring the

hugeness of everything by contrast with his own mere 160 pounds, and the enormous time-

scale by contrast with his own three score and ten years. So thoroughly has the philosophy of

materialism impregnated our thinking that we have come to measure ourselves and our

personal worth in quantitative terms, in terms of years and pounds! No wonder our

insignificance strikes us so forcibly. A few years ago, J. W. N. Sullivan put it this way: (35)

The vast extent of the Universe, both in space and time, is, from the human point of view,

completely aimless. Those immense lumps of matter, in their millions of millions, incessantly

pouring out an inconceivably furious energy for millions and millions of years, seem to be

completely pointless. For a fleeting moment man has been permitted to stare at this gigantic

and meaningless display.

Long before the process comes to an end, man will have vanished from the scene, and the rest

of the performance will take place in the unthinkable night of the absence of all

consciousness.

But just suppose our value is not to be measured quantitatively at all. With very few

exceptions--and Bertrand Russell is a notable one--men have always recognized that it is

quality and not quantity which gives stature to the individual. Even the making of this

judgment itself is evidence of a capacity in man which cannot be accounted for in any of the

terms by which we measure the immensity of the universe. Indeed, if we were merely part of

the universe in the sense that animals are part of it, or plants or rock formations or even

molecules, we should never have troubled ourselves with searching out its immensities in the

first place. Those who loudly proclaim that man is an insignificant by-product are, by their

very proclamation, bearing a silent witness to the fact that they themselves are not a product

of it at all, but are standing outside of it and making a judgment about it. There is no question

that Scripture in a thousand ways singles out the individual as being something other than,

more valuable than, and of vastly greater significance himself than the mere chemicals of

which his body and even brain are composed. He may look up at these tremendous galaxies

and wonder at his own tiny size. But he has this advantage: galaxies don't know that he is

down here, but he knows they are there.

The question arises, then, whether such a creature could have been created as part of some

other kind of universe, a universe in keeping with his physical dimensions and his span of

years. Is this tremendous display of power unnecessarily wasteful--one might almost say,

flamboyant? Certainly, we have no reason now, in light of what we know, to doubt the power

of the Creator. But what about His wisdom? Could man have been introduced into a modest

cosmos in terms of size and age? I think the answer to this is not difficult. God has infinite

resources and there must be alternatives that He might have chosen. But evidently He had a

reason for creating such a universe, and since reasonableness is a concept which only has

meaning in terms of man's thinking processes, we ought to be able to follow God's thinking to

some extent and to grasp something of the rationale of His adopting such a plan.