Some astrophysicists have stated that, given the sheer immensity of space and the comparative paucity of life contained therein, that life is an oddity, something that must be a chance event and surely not the purpose of the universe. The universe seems to be in the business of producing stars and space.
One may argue to the contrary. The size of a configuration and the relative smallness of its content can serve to enlarge the value it contains.
The Taj Mahal, for example, required two decades to build and immense manpower. It has 600 rooms, 44 suites, and nine restaurants. Its so-called 22 secret rooms are actually sealed chambers in the basement of the monument that are part of its foundation, built to support the massive marble structure and to manage moisture from the nearby Yamuna River.
It is the mausoleum for but a single person, Mumtaz Mahal, the beloved wife of Emperor Shah Jahan. The discrepancy between the size of the monument and its purpose in honoring but a single soul is a glowing testimony to the emperor’s love for his wife.
Love is magnanimous. It does not count the cost.
We may look at time and space, the essence and breadth of the universe in a similar fashion. How much time is required for my life to come into existence? I am descended from my parents who, in turn, were descended from their parents. This lineage goes all the way back to our first parents. That is a span of several thousand years. A single break in the line would have prevented my existence.
My existence seems to be an oddity, something that was highly improbable. For the line that winds back to our primal parents to be kept intact over so many millennia appears to be most unlikely. And yet, here I am, having defeated all the odds.
The fact that so much time was required to produce me and all my contemporaries as well indicates that our coming to be must be of some importance, even from the perspective of the cosmos. Johannes Brahms, being an intense perfectionist, worked on his first symphony, according to his own account, for 21 years. The result was a masterpiece that justified the time spent in its creation. Its performance time runs from 45 to 50 minutes.
The discrepancy between the time of production and the time of execution indicates that one is willing to pay a high price for something he loves. It also indicates that a great deal of time and effort is required to produce something of lasting beauty.
When we look at space we begin to see how much more than time is involved in my coming to be. A sun is indispensable for light and heat. The moon, at a proper distance from the earth, is needed to regulate the tides. The formation of planet earth took millions of years. The entire cosmos was at work producing everything needed in space in order to produce a suitable environment to sustain life. Concerning the stars, we might share the vision of the psalmist:
“The heavens show forth the glory of God and the firmament declares the work of His hands.”
To form a diamond, a great amount of pressure is required. Similarly, to form life, a great deal of space is required.
We take life for granted and fail to realize how much, both in time and in space, is required for its appearance. We might say that life is too glorious to be appreciated. Life must be very special for the entire universe to cooperate in its genesis.
All this seems to point to a God who superintends the universe and directs its multitudinous actions to the production of life. Life cannot be the result of the blind interplay of atoms and molecules any more than an effect can exceed its cause. Spirit does not evolve from matter. Matter can never know itself, nor can it ever give thanks for its being.
St. Thomas Aquinas had the gift of cutting through problems with directness and simplicity. “Since the human soul cannot be produced by the transmutation of matter,” he wrote, “it cannot but be produced immediately by God.” It has become commonplace for people, including scientists, to confer more capabilities on matter than to human beings. Ironically, they argue against their own constitution.
Do I owe my existence to good fortune? But “good fortune” does not exist to receive my thanks. In addition, “good fortune” can never be sufficiently good to overcome the astronomical odds of my not being here. I must owe my existence to a providential and benevolent God.
If a person won the Irish sweepstakes year after year, his winning streak would not be attributed to “good fortune” but to some kind of illegal chicanery. Luck has its limits. We are not here because of luck. Even if luck could account for my existence, could it also account for everyone else’s existence?
I, like anyone else on the planet, was meant to be here. This means that I, just as the universe, have a purpose. My purpose is twofold: to express thanks to God and to be the person that God intended me to be. Time and space are His creations and our illuminations.
