Known To Unknown

Astronaut Christina Koch’s description of planet Earth left me in awe. She said that, from where they were, the Earth felt like an object hanging out there. It appeared insignificant and was covered with darkness. To an extent, it sounded indifferent, but underneath that was a sense of awe, and feelings of gratitude that she had had such an indescribable opportunity to have seen a part of God’s creation that only four people out of the billions of people on planet Earth had ever seen before.

What an honor! What a privilege!

Witnessing the four astronauts return to earth on TV felt like being at the pinnacle of success. They have worked so hard. They have had very little sleep. They have eaten what you and I wouldn’t eat in a minute. They have endured so much. Their hard work paid off, though, because of what they saw with their naked eyes. And thankfully, they had something to compare that with.

It was an awakening for me to hear Christina talk about the earth as being covered in darkness. It may have been literal for her, but it may also have been prophetic, because the present experience of millions on our planet Earth feels as if we are covered by deep darkness. It is a sort of darkness that has ruined millions of our lives and devastated the world to the point where a little light, just a light beaming from the crevices, inspires us to reach out and tap into the unknown - and with the hope that the unknown may offer us what we all need, that it may pour some balm on our weary souls and lives.

Beyond the conflicts of wars, unease about the unequal administration of justice, and other ills on planet Earth, the attack on institutions also represents an exploration of the unknown. We know the ramifications of some of our actions, but we do not know the full picture of what those attacks may mean for the future, and I am afraid to say that many of us have not given it serious thought. But we should, because the unknown isn’t always pretty. 

One of my favorite subjects in grade school, through high school, and during seminary was history. I loved and still love history, especially the stories about the exploration of the New World and the contact between Europeans and Natives of different cultures. I love to read about the first impressions of America by European explorers. I once saw a picture of an artist’s impression of what Lower Manhattan would have looked like before contact with Europeans and the exploration of the Hudson River, and I fell in love with it. That was a transportation from the known to the unknown.

In our little worlds, we also explore. We like to try new things, new recipes, and travel to different places we have heard about. Mother Marcia told me yesterday that she has little time to see all that she wants to see in the world. It is a form of exploration, all part of the human quest to know the unknown. The sense of curiosity that underlies the human desire to explore is so, so amazing. And for me, it is that one thing that leads us to the shores of the unknown.

Explorations teach us two things about ourselves. First: the more we know, the more we realize how much we do not know. Second, we always begin with the known and move to the unknown.

It is the known which forms the basis of our curiosity about the unknown. The more even a slight bit of the unknown becomes known, the more we grow in our desire to explore so we can know more about it. The reality is, human curiosity drives our desire to explore, and that curiosity is never intimidated by challenges. The thrill of just a little discovery is worth every time and effort, and that explains why we all rejoiced with the astronauts of Artemis II.

Note this: the fact that we do not know everything should dispel our ideas of certainty about anything. The fact that we do not know should rather imbue in us a sense of humility that acknowledges human limitations and yet praises the Creator for a planet that, although it is covered in darkness, can still beam with the Creator’s light.

In my view, the fact that planet Earth is covered in darkness isn’t enough. There’s more to the story than only darkness. Another astronaut, Victor Glover, offered this remark from space: "Just as much as all four astronauts are in a spaceship, we also live on a spaceship called planet Earth. The whole universe is an empty hole, but we have an oasis called planet Earth where we get to exist together." That was as profound and prophetic as the thought about the darkness covering the Earth.

You and I didn’t see what the Artemis II astronauts saw, and I don’t think we ever will. But I offer great thanks to the Creator God for the gift we possess to build something like Artemis II and to explore the cosmos, purely out of curiosity to know the unknown, and, in the process, to get to know the handiwork of the Creator.

If indeed exploration begins from the known to the unknown, then I believe we can begin with the known and explore how we can overcome Earth’s darkness with Easter’s light, so that the unknown of existing together may be made known to us.

Blessed Eastertide,

Manny+