NASA: Streaming Wonder
September 30, 2023 By 2 Comments

NASA: Streaming Wonder

Wonder has been hard to come by lately. For me anyway. Sometimes I’m more tuned in, open and attentive. But with national and global news, I’ve been overwhelmed, and dullness settled in. On a morning walk I did see a hairy-capped acorn that drew me to stop and look closely. I stuck it in my pocket to send to a great-nephew with whom I share such things.

Still, all in all, I’ve been moving through days focused on a writing project, completing a couple leg exercise sets daily, and walking enough laps around the neighborhood to meet my step goal.

Last Sunday started out much the same when a cell phone “ding” alerted me to a short text on the family thread: “Happy OSIRIS-REx Return Day!!!!,” followed by a NASA link.

What was “OSIRIS-REx” and where was it returning from? I followed the link and forgave myself for not recognizing the mission: It began in 2016! A lot has happened on earth in the past seven years. After a quick read through the article, I clicked on NASA TV and virtually joined my family in watching the drama unfold.

Once again, NASA and the teams that work with them streamed a sense of wonder, joy, and hope into my living room.

Wonder

Wonder at how their engineers design such a craft

It traveled for a year to orbit the sun, then returned close to Earth, using its gravity to bend its trajectory, lining up with the asteroid Bennu’s orbit and continuing the journey. In 2018 it began mapping the surface of Bennu looking for a good place to collect samples. When it did in late in October 2020, the collection was what what a NASA commentator called a “pogo stick” operation – A quick contact of the robotic arm with the soft, rocky surface to collect bits of the asteroid’s pebbles and dust, then a pull back.

Credit: NASA/Goddard/University of Arizona
Robotic arm briefly touched asteroid
 

In 2021 OSIRIS-REx (sometimes referred to by NASA experts as “O-REx.” You’ve gotta love their way with endearing nicknames) started home.

Then, September 24, 2023 the craft flew close enough to earth to release the sample-bearing capsule that streaked toward Earth at 27,000 mph, eventually slowed to 11 mph by the bright parachute that deployed without a hitch, and then landed where expected! Remarkable.

Wonder at how scientists will tease information about the origin of our planet from those bits of asteroid

They are hopeful that O-REx’s cache will provide new insights into the vast cosmos and it’s beginning. Whatever we learn, it will expand our knowledge and experience of the universe. The James Webb Space Telescope continues to give us stunning glimpses of deep space. Even the “closeup” bits we can see with our own eyes, like a Super Moon shining through a break in clouds, make my heart beat faster.  

PHOTO: Jarred Keener

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said that we meet God in matter. That has been my spiritual experience since childhood and seemed evident despite dualist teachings to the contrary.

Ilia Delio writes that for Teilhard, “matter is the incarnating presence of divinity; God is present in matter and not merely to matter.”

Teilhard also wrote that nothing is profane if one had eyes to see. How significantly the current space exploration and scientific advances have expanded what we can “see.”

Scientist and theologian Judy Cannato wrote of the challenge this presents: “The new cosmology can upset our old truths as it challenges us to adopt a novel vision of life. Taking a look at a new paradigm will always expose our illusions and bring about a confrontation with our fears … like Einstein, we can choose to fudge our own equations, living in one world while praying in another. Or we can endeavor to reconcile science and faith within ourselves allowing them not only a peaceful coexistence but a mutual resonance that permits us to live a life filled with radical amazement.”

It’s a call to wonder!

Joy

Joy in effort, beauty, and being

Joy and enthusiasm emanated from Jim Garvins, NASA Goddard Space Flight Center’s chief scientist, who was in Utah for the capsule’s landing. Throughout the broadcast his smile and enthusiasm were contagious. Smiles covered the faces of those in Mission Control as they watched the successful conclusion to OSIRIS-REx’s journey. The face of the correspondent beamed as she covered the return from just a few miles away. Everyone involved was jubilant. Local elementary and high school students were thrilled to have something so momentous happening in their backyard.

In his book, Awe, Dacher Keltner writes of things that move us to tears including beauty of all types and  “awareness of vast things that unite us with others.” Those familiar with this column may remember columns about other NASA missions that moved me to tears: Cassini’s final descent into Saturn’s atmosphere, sending images until its final moment. Perseverance’s landing on Mars. The successful launch and final unfolding of the James Webb telescope.

Tears welled in my eyes again as I watched not only the landing of OSIRIS-REx’s capsule, but of the careful transfer to the temporary clean room.

Hope

Hope in the ability of human beings to cooperate and accomplish extraordinary things together

NASA and worldwide space agencies are good at this. The James Webb is one example. So is O-REx. The mission brought together numerous organizations including the University of Arizona, NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center, Lockheed Martin Space Systems, and the Utah Test and Training Range.

Hope for a future of respect for all people

The highly visible role women played in the recovery of the capsule recalled NASA’s ongoing commitment to creating an inclusive culture in the organization. It strives to celebrate and support diversity, recognizing that every person brings gifts to be shared. In these days, when fear-mongering and the violence it engenders is on the rise, NASA’s efforts to expose the lies of racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, and other “isms” and “phobias” that plague the world are welcome. They provide an example of how humankind can move forward together.

Hope for commitment to the common good

NASA will not horde the precious asteroid samples for its scientists but will distribute up to 30% to scientists around the globe. The remainder will be kept at NASA’s Johnson Space Center (and White Sands) for other scientists and for future generations of scientists who will have different questions and more advanced technologies to help answer them. (I think this cooperative spirit and the consideration of future needs is common among scientists. It’s why archaeologists, with their long view, excavate only a section of a site.)

 Gratitude

Just as the hairy bur oak acorn broke into my imagination during an otherwise “inattentive” walk, the return of OSIRIS-REx’s capsule full of asteroid bits pushed aside dullness and filled my heart with joy, wonder, and hope. Then, without another word, OSIRIS-REx changed course and headed off on a journey deep into space. (It is now called OSIRIS-APEX or Osiris-Apophis Explorer, after the asteroid it will encounter next: Apophis) We will hear back from it in 2029.

Meanwhile, for expanding my horizons. For reminding me of creation’s wonders near at hand and far away. For uncovering the connectedness of everything. For these gifts, I again say “Thank you” to NASA and all its partners.

Bur Oak Acorn

Cosmic-Cliffs-Carina-Nebula-NIRCam-Image-NASA-ESA-CSA-STScI

Feature photo provided by NASA Goddard Space Flight Center. Photos by Mary van Balen unless otherwise credited

Resources

To Bennu and Back: Journey’s End Short video NASA Goddard

OSIRIS-REx Asteroid Sample Return (Official 4K NASA Broadcast)

OSIRIS-REx Mission Page

The Hours of the Universe: Reflections on God, Science, and the Human Journey by Ilia Delio pp 54-55

Radical Amazement: Contemplative Lessons from Back Holes, Supernovas, and other Wonders of the Universe by Judy Cannato p 36

Awe: The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life by Dacher Keltner pp 44-48

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Celebrating the Incarnation: A Way of Life
December 25, 2022 By 8 Comments

Celebrating the Incarnation: A Way of Life

Decades ago, I read an article about keeping a “spiritual journal.” I was already a dedicated journaler, having begun in earnest while in high school and was writing occasional guest columns on meeting God in everyday life. Keeping a “spiritual journal” had never occurred to me. I tried the practice for a month or so but found it difficult to decide what to put into my regular journal and what to write in the “spiritual” one. Before long I abandoned the effort. Clearly, for me, the sacred was part of the ordinary. Everything, in its own way was spiritual.

A quote that came to mind all those years ago was Pierre Teilhard de Chardin’s words, “By virtue of Creation, and still more the Incarnation, nothing here below is profane for those who know how to see.”1 The spiritual journal landed in a bin with older journals, never to be used again.

As I think about that today, I’m reminded of John Muir’s words, “When you try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.”2 That pretty much expresses my experience of the Divine. There is no separating it out. It is deeply entwined in all things, you, me, and everything else, what we see around us and everything in the cosmos, far beyond even the amazing “vision” of the James Webb Space Telescope (JWST). That’s the first incarnation, the ongoing incarnation: God’s outpouring of Love, of Divine Self, and wrapping it up in matter.

So, as Christmas, the great feast of the Incarnation, draws close, I ponder not only that Jesus somehow held the entirety of God in human form, in human time and space, but also that the Divine is present in all creation and always has been. It’s impossible even to imagine, as God proclaims in Is 55:8-9:

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 are my ways higher than your ways
   and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Madeleine L’Engle called the Incarnation in Jesus The Glorious Impossible, the title of her book inspired by Giotto’s frescoes. She once wrote that for a period of time, she found the best theology in the writings not of theologians, but of mathematicians and physicists. I’m not reading that exactly, but I am reading Ways of Being: Animals, Plants, Machines: The Search for a Planetary Intelligence by James Bridle. It stretches my mind to consider the“beyond-human world.”

What incredible diversity exists on this earth! How everything continues to change and new things emerge! As I read, I become aware that despite the increase in human knowledge, how little we know about the creatures and plants and beings with whom we share this planet and how interdependent we are. Ways of Being has awakened in me a sense of wonder at the inner life of plants and animals. About different forms of intelligence and the importance of respecting it.

Nature itself feeds my wondering. While on a walk, some small leaves caught my eye. (The woman who tends an amazing garden down the street identified them as Bradford Pear leaves.) Brown, they each held colors and shapes near their centers that brought to mind images from the JWST. At my feet, leaves seemed to hold the universe. I was reminded of lines from a poem by William Blake: To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And Heaven in a Wild Flower / Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

Some passages in Bridle’s book touch my belief in and experience of the inherent spirituality of all things; some accounts address this directly, as in the case of primatologist Barbara Smuts, who described her experience with a troop of baboons as something like the experience of mystics. Living with the baboons, she felt a shift in her sense of identity from simple individuality to being a part of something much larger than herself. She also described an experience with a troop of baboons who, while traveling, stopped at a small pool and “…Without any obvious signal, each of the baboons sat down on a smooth stone surrounding the pool, and for half an hour (by human reckoning) they sat alone or in small clusters, completely quiet, staring at the water. Even normally boisterous juveniles slipped into quiet contemplation.”3

This occurred in the same area where Jane Goodall studied chimpanzees. She witnessed something that also hints at the “inner life” of the animals. On numerous occasions and locations, she observed an adult chimpanzee (different animals, but usually male) stand in front of an impressive waterfall, hair erect, preforming a “magnificent display” at the foot of the falls: “He always sways rhythmically from foot to foot, stamping in the shallow, rushing water, picking up and hurling great rocks. Sometimes he climbs up slender vines that hang down from the trees high above and swing out into the spray of the falling water.”4 Goodall considered these displays “precursors of religious ritual.” This may be may be imposing a “human world” perspective on chimpanzee behavior, but it gave me pause.

How little we know about God’s presence in creation! Bridle reflects on a presentation by theoretical physicist, Karen Barad on quantum physics. He writes, “Barad’s talk also left me with another impression: That science’s greatest advances arrive not as settlements or conclusions, but as revelations of a still-deeper complexity. This complexity exceeds our mastery and comprehension – but is still relatable, still livable, still communicable and actionable. Science, it struck me then, is a guide to thinking, not a thought: an endless process of becoming.”5

I scribbled in the margins, “Sounds like spirituality to me.”

And so, along with the lectionary and Mary Oliver, Ways of Being has been part of my Advent reading. I need lots of time but, as when doing Lectio Divina, I’m not in a hurry. It is slow, deep reading, letting the mystery sink into my bones.

This holiday, we celebrate two things. The first is the Incarnation of the Divine in Jesus, who showed us what it looks like when a human being lives in complete union with the Divine within. Of course, the unique bit of Divinity that dwells within each of us is not the entirety of God enfleshed in Jesus, but still, in Jesus, we see faithfulness to what we are all called to do: cooperate with the gift of God’s Self given to enliven us and to share. The second thing to celebrate is the incarnation of Divinity at the heart of creation, of time and space. God’s outpouring of self, creating a cosmos beyond our comprehension. Other beings perhaps (I believe so) who reflect a different bit of God into the universe. Into other universes. Other realities. How many billions of galaxies has JWST revealed? How many ways has/is God-life expressed in matter?

The Incarnation is not only something to celebrate, but also something to live—In our ordinary, everyday routines. In our work. In doing what we love. In how we interact with others. In how we interact with the environment. In every little thing. It is our call. Our vocation. Our actions contribute to the ongoing, wondrous reality of God-with-Us. And with all that is.

Notes

  1. Teilhard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu. In my 1968 edition, the quote is found on page 66. It is in Part One: The Divinisation of Our Activities, Section 5 A.  Finding the quote in context led to me reading the chapter and putting the old book along with others on my shelf to read again in 2023!
  2. John Muir, My First Summer in the Sierra (Boston: Houghton Mifflin. 1911).
  3. Barbara Smuts as quoted in James Bridle Ways of Being: Animals, Plants, Machines: The Search for Planetary Intelligence, (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 2022), pp.          54-55.
  4. Jane Goodall as quoted in James Bridle Ways of Being: Animals, Plants, Machines: The Search for Planetary Intelligence, (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 2022), p. 56.
  5. James Bridle, Ways of Being: Animals, Plants, Machines: The Search for Planetary Intelligence, (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 2022), p. 86         

Sources:

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu

James Bridle, Ways of Being: Animals, Plants, Machines: The Search for Planetary Intelligence

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Lunar Eclipse: Nudged Toward Faith
November 20, 2021 By 10 Comments

Lunar Eclipse: Nudged Toward Faith

… And my heart panics not to be, as I long to be, / the empty, waiting, pure, speechless receptacle.

Mary Oliver from poem “Blue Iris”

Today, I stood on the porch and drew draughts of cold air deep into my lungs, happy for it after two days spent mostly inside. Raindrops made linking circles, expanding and disappearing at the edges of driveway puddles. I remembered a column written years ago in which I named rain an icon of God’s ever-present Grace soaking our souls. Looking out at the morning, I prayed to be open to it. And I thought about yesterday’s gift – the lunar eclipse.

Unable to sleep, I had risen around 1 a. m., brewed a pot of Red Rose, and pulled a small panettone intended for the holidays from its hiding place in the pantry. The sweet bread, studded with raisins and candied orange bits, melted in my mouth. Enveloped in a fleecy robe and a wing-backed chair, I read poetry and sipped the tea.  

The longest partial lunar eclipse in a millennium was approaching. Off and on I put down my book and mug and walked out onto the driveway. The unusually crystal-clear sky was stunning. Orion’s shoulders angled toward the moon, still white and whole. Later it would begin to move into the earth’s shadow.

Returning to the kitchen, I decided to make cornbread for the morning. Soon the baking wholegrains filled the house with earthy aromas. I knew I wouldn’t wait till the morning to eat a slice. “It is morning,” I told myself as I buttered a bit. “Very early morning!”

More tea. More poetry. I watched the moon as darkness began to take a bite out of it around 2 a.m. At 3, I crawled back into bed, setting my alarm for 4, mid-eclipse, when the earth’s shadow would drape the moon with a reddish orange veil.

The hour passed in a blink, and I was back outside: a grey-haired woman in her robe and slippers, cradling a large mug in her hands. Standing with Orion and whatever other stars and creatures were witnessing the moment, I lifted my mug and sipped tea, a toast to the moon. Not quite a complete eclipse, but I think even more beautiful because of it. The tiny crescent of brilliance near the base held the rusty moon as if in a thin, silver cup.

Give praise, sun and moon, / give praise, all you shining stars! / Give praise all universes, / the whole cosmos of Creation!

Psalm 148 translation: Nan C. Merrill
NASA’s Scientific Visualization Studio

“Receiving blessings with gratitude,” a friend said, “requires humility.”

Gazing out into our solar system, overwhelmed by the sight, I longed to be an ever-open receptacle of such beauty. It spilled out over me, the pavement, gnarled trees, and blades of grass. Grace opens one’s eyes to the extraordinary reality of everyday things and to the Presence that dwells in all.

The immensity of the cosmos in which our earth spins, humbled me, and I gave thanks, adding my small voice to the chorus of praise rising from all creation. Astronomical events always provide needed perspective. Disheartened as I felt that night about events in our country and world, I was reminded that I see only a snippet of what is happening. That life continues to evolve and change. That my moment is not the only moment. There is a long view that I do not have. I want to trust that it is bending toward justice. But some nights, I don’t.

That night Orion, the moon, and the magnificence of creation nudged me towards faith and courage.

Finishing my tea, I walked back inside and returned to bed. Hope cautiously emerging from the edges of my mind, and a prayer of gratitude stirring in my heart.

© 2021 Mary van Balen

Feature photo by Mary van Balen – Stained-glass dome of Santa Maria degli Angeli e dei Martiri in Rome. Architect: Michelangelo

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The Challenge and Grace of Embracing Truth
April 11, 2019 By Leave a Comment

The Challenge and Grace of Embracing Truth

We are often afraid of the truth. Rather than experiencing it as a way to experiencing a deeper reality, we see it as something that up ends our world, threatens our sense of security, and even our sense of self. We have found a comfortable place to “fit in,” and we don’t want anyone or anything to disturb it. It’s how we make sense of the world.

Jesus brought the challenge of truth with him and he certainly disturbed the religious status quo of his time. Many religious leaders and officials didn’t see how they would fit in to his world view. They had narrowed their vision to see the world through their lenses of laws and rituals and understanding of history that made sense to them and that assured their place in it. Jesus and his truth were a threat and, as we observe on Good Friday, he was murdered for it.

photo of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

April 10 was the anniversary of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, (1846-1955), Jesuit priest, scientist (geologist and paleontologist), theologian, and mystic whose work informed his spirituality. Much of what he wrote and spoke about was unacceptable to some who had the authority to deny his ability to publish, teach, or lecture.

Despite the censure of his work, he remained faithful to his vows of obedience and to the church, as painful and disheartening as it was. After his death, his work was published and has informed much current theology and spirituality. If you are familiar with the work of Richard Rohr, to mention only one, you will have been introduced in some way to Teilhard’s theology of evolution on both a physical and spiritual level and the incarnation of God in all matter.

I have always believed that sincere seekers of truth, whatever their field of study, spiritual path, or human experience, will come eventually to the same place: The Holy One who is Truth.

In The Gallery of Paleontology and Comparative Anatomy, part The National Museum of Natural History Paris, France
PHOTO: Mary van Balen

One night, when my middle daughter was five, I went upstairs to check on her and found her wide awake.

“Mom,” she said, “I don’t know what to do. I love God, but I love science, too. Some people say that people and dinosaurs lived at the same time. That the Bible talks about everything being created at once. But dinosaurs and people didn’t live together. Paleontologists know that.”

She sighed “I don’t know which to choose, God or science.”

“The good news is you don’t have to choose,” I said. The Bible isn’t a science book. The writers of the Bible were telling stories and sharing history that pointed to the truth as they knew it about God. They were truth seekers.

Scientists are looking for truth, too. Sometimes they have to change what they thought because a new discovery proves it wrong. But they keep observing and experimenting.

All truth leads to God. So, you don’t have to worry. The Bible. Science. Truth. Eventually, they take you to the same place.”

She smiled. “I’m glad,” she said, then rolled over and went to sleep.

First photo of a black hole
Credit: Event Horizon Telescope Collaboration

Seeking truth and accepting it when it isn’t what’s expected takes openness and humility as well as courage. History is full of examples. In our own time, new discoveries and understandings in many fields challenge the status quo. What do we know of race, of the cosmos, of human psychology, of the effect of human activity on our planet? Truth is always drawing us forward into new territory.

“Conventional truth” confronted Jesus as he entered Jerusalem. It made sense to his palm-waving, excited followers, caught up in signs and wonders. Of course, he would be King. It made sense to them, but not to Jesus.

Jesus refused to deny the truth of who he was. He had a message for all people, for all creation that transcended religion, politics and power. His work was to proclaim the radical love of God for all and in all.

That truth was hard for his followers to accept. It certainly turned their world upside down. For some it was too much to accept.

The same is true for us. Jesus’s message and our slowly evolving way of experiencing it is a challenge. It requires us to both let go and to accept. We can never understand God. But we can believe that always, God is drawing all things closer to the Divine Self until one day, we will understand that, mysterious as it is, we are one.

© 2019 Mary van Balen

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Seeing Everything Shining Like the Sun
November 11, 2016 By 1 Comment

Seeing Everything Shining Like the Sun

Photo of a domed stained glass window In Church in Rome, Italy, depicting the universe.Originally published in The Catholic Times, November 12, 2016 issue

Liturgically speaking, November begins with celebrating the holy ones who have gone before and who live among us: the saints and the saints-becoming. Canonized or not, they are those who open our eyes to both the presence of God-with-Us and to the responsibility to reverence that Presence in how we live our lives.

What if we looked at this month through the eyes of the saints? Would we see things we usually overlook? Would we be moved to act in ways out of our ordinary routines?

Trees blazing with color will soon drop their leaves and stand starkly against winter skies. On some days, snow will cling to their branches and cover the ground. Beauty has many faces. Growth often happens deep within, out of sight. While autumn’s riot of color shouts, winter’s muted palette speaks in whispers. Silence guards the life that has withdrawn to the center, content to wait and gather strength.

The great contemplatives speak of encountering God within, spending silent time resting in the Sacred Presence. Often, though, in the midst of contemplative practice, nothing much seems to be going on other than distractions. When tempted to wonder where God is in those times, we can remember the winter trees and landscape where the mystery of life deepens unseen.

The saintly scientists invite us to encounter God in the ordinary and spectacular realities of the universe. St. Hildegard of Bingen living in the 12th century, wrote about ecology, natural science, and medicine. St. Albert the Great, whose feast we celebrate next week, was a philosopher and scholar recognized for his knowledge and writing not only about theology but also about the sciences including physics, and astronomy.

Watching the super moon rise on November 14 or gazing at the dance of the moon and planets can be worship.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, a Jesuit priest born in the late nineteenth century was a mystic and accomplished geologist and paleontologist. His vision of the evolutionary nature not only of matter but of spirit and his understanding of the Cosmic Christ continues to inspire today.

Looking with these saints helps us see not only the magnificence of creation, but also the connectedness of all things. We are a small part of a universe beyond imagining. From the perspective of such immensity we become aware of our place in the world, participants in Infinite Life. What happens to one affects us all.

The great challenges of our time require such a universal view. Pope Francis has emphasized our moral obligation to respond to protect the earth. He also calls us to be merciful and to create a culture of encounter with one another.

How many stories are told of saints who lived their lives serving the poor and marginalized, the sick and suffering? Elizabeth of Hungary, whose feast is also celebrated next week, was a queen and mother who gave herself so whole-heartedly to sharing her fortune with the poor and nursing the sick, that, when her husband died on the way to battle, she was thrown out into the street by his parents who were offended by her discipline of prayer and good works!

Monument to the Immigrant in New Orleans. A statue depicting a female muse whose flowing gown leads to family of four immigrants. By Franco Alessandrini (1944), American sculptor of New Orleans

Monument to the Immigrant. 1995 New Orleans by Franco Alessandrini (1944), American sculptor of New Orleans.
Dedicated to the courageous men and women who left their homeland seeking freedom, opportunity, and a better life in a new country.
Photo: Mary van Balen

Martin de Porres entered a Dominican monastery as a lowly lay helper, but spent much of his life using gifts for healing not only tending the monks, but also the poorest in his city of Lima, Peru.

Today as millions of refugees leave their homelands destroyed by wars and violence, looking for a safer place to live and raise their families, we do well to remember how these saints saw every person. St. Benedict instructed his monks to greet every stranger who came to the monastery door as Christ. Mother Teresa saw the face of Jesus in every dying person she lifted from the street. How do we see these people, fleeing for their lives? How do we welcome them when they arrive at our shores?

The Trappist monk Thomas Merton wondered at God dwelling within every person he saw at a busy intersection in Louisville, Kentucky: “…There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around shining like the sun!”

When we are able to see the hand of God in every speck of earth or distant star, to recognize the Holy Presence in others, or to trust the Indwelling in ourselves, we can pray for Grace so, like the holy ones who have gone before us, we will reverence the Sacred that is in our midst or knocking on our doors.

©2016 Mary van Balen

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