Year A — Christmas 1 -- Tea and Creation

 M. Campbell-Langdell+

All Santos

12.28.25

(Isaiah 61:10–62:3; Ps 147; Galatians 3:23–25; 4:4–7; John 1:1–18)

Legend has it that Napoleon Bonaparte, the one-time French emperor, once asked a leading scientist of his day, Pierre-Simon Laplace, about a book he wrote, Systeme du Monde.  He asked why he had not mentioned the Creator in the book, and Laplace replied, “I had no need of that hypothesis.”[1]

Following the Enlightenment, many people of Napoleon’s age and onward have latched onto the concept of science as the new law that will explain everything.  They say we do not need God because we have a scientific explanation. 

Or, some have become afraid of science, saying that it will explain everything, leaving no room for God, as if God needed to be accommodated somehow, like a person needing a seat on the bus. 

Our culture at times seems to war between those who would rely only on science and those who regard science as a threat to faith.

Alene has been reading a book about the creation of the Webb telescope and reminded me that about 27 percent of the universe is made up of dark matter, and about 69 percent of the universe is made of dark energy, the force that keeps the universe expanding. Only a relatively small amount, about five percent of the universe, is made up of visible matter like us.

Perhaps that sounds ominous to some, but in my mind, the mysteries that abound about the universe lead us to God’s light.

As we hear in today’s gospel, “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (John 1:5).”  

In truth, many scientists in the past fifty years have been surprised to often find as many questions as answers, particularly in the field of quantum physics, which yearns to discover the structure of the atom and its component parts, the basic building blocks of the universe. 

Philosopher J.B. Stump talks about how the Big Bang theory, the theory that the universe had a beginning moment from which all matter burst into being, often raises for many the question of whether there is an “unmoved mover,” a possible scientific term for God.  Someone put it all into motion, some say.[2]

In the loosing of the reins of science, which for a while seemed to have strict laws for us, we begin to feel we are not actually held captive by the old law of rules referred to in today’s Galatians passage, nor are we held in the strictures of the new laws of science, because we have begun to see that some laws of science are already being broken.   Perhaps we can continue to learn and play with the rules we know, growing in faith and wisdom as we do.

Because, as Stump says, we have begun to see there are a couple of levels of reality, which can be described by theologian and physicist John Polkinghorne’s example about a tea kettle. 

When asked why a tea kettle is boiling, a physicist might explain the “closed electrical circuit with such and such resistance in the heating element of the stove, which conveys heat to the bottom of the kettle, which in turn causes the water molecules to move more rapidly within the kettle, whereby the increasingly rapid motion of the molecules eventually becomes sufficient to push the vapor pressure of the water higher than the atmospheric pressure—and the water boils.”[3]  By contrast, he says that “another correct description of the situation is to say that the kettle is boiling because I want a cup of tea!”[4]

Now, of course, this tea kettle example is quite dear to my British heart, but we get Polkinghorne’s point here.  There are always different ways of looking at a situation, and sometimes there are two realities that coexist: that of scientific proof and that God’s loving determination to be with us.  The God reality, J. B. Stump says, is all about relationship.  I desire a cup of tea. 

God desires to be in a relationship with you.  Kind of mind-boggling that an eternal being gives one whit about a personal relationship with each one of us, but there it is.

And as much richness as there is in the tapestry woven by science, there is a diaphanous golden cloud above that earnest weaving called God’s mysterious ways.  As such, when we try to square science with religion, it’s not about fitting God into the gaps, but seeing God in and through all, a separate, eternal being who desires relationship with us.[5] 

We see the personal reality of God so clearly in today’s gospel.  Jesus Christ is the Word, a part of the world from the beginning, a truly cosmic force.  And yet, he came into the world as a human being, longing for a relationship.  And he was not understood.  The poignancy of that passage, imagine, the loneliness of God incarnate.  The miracle is that we are still saved and can still recognize Jesus, although we did not understand Him when He came. 

We see the loving forgiveness of God here.

When one considers how the universe is continuously expanding, it is possible to argue that the universe is somewhat akin to God. We will never have the measure of the universe, as it is always slipping out of our mind’s grasp, just like we can never hold all of God’s mysteries in our hands.

And then I read that there is a 10 to the 500th degree chance of having a universe like ours; a universe that is hospitable for life.[6]  And yet, here we are.  If that doesn’t sound like a miracle, I am not sure what does.  Perhaps some of the wild proofs of science really do point to God, after all.

But does this mean we cast aside the search for scientific answers?  Should we just recline back into the mystery of it all?  No!  In fact, such scientific striving gives life richness and flavor, as does any search for meaning. 

It can teach us the mysteries of God in a new way.

But just as we did not understand Jesus fully, and were still saved, we must remember the grace upon grace of God: that we are saved whether we “get it all” or not.  

At the end of the day, I think we’ve all got to get a little humble, because we will never hold it all.  But fortunately for us, Jesus allows us to recognize Him and find salvation in Him anyway.  God still strives to be in a relationship with us despite it all.  And like John the Baptist, we have a mission. 

We can lean on science to try to understand all that is happening in our world, but that is the good news: the God of all creation desires to have a relationship with us!

We must continue to learn and let the light of Christ shine out and through us.  And the mysteries that remain as we learn more and more about that relationship with God and about our world make it all the better for us to wander and wonder.  So, with me, take in the night’s sky, that star that will lead us to Jesus again next week as we follow the magi, and let’s say “Thanks be to God!”

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[1] J.B. Stump, “Cosmic Question: God in a World Explained by Science,” Christian Century (December 26, 2012), 20.

[2] Ibid, 21.

[3] Ibid, 23.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid, 22.

[6] Ibid.