(c) – The Prodigal Son’s Brother Owns A Telescope

I love space. I have been an astronomy nut since I was a wee lad. I distinctly remember my love of space being rooted in an interest in dinosaurs. I remember learning that the dinosaurs were killed by a giant space rock and for some reason that fascinated me. I received in 2nd grade two books with cardboard pages with various facts about both dinosaurs and space and I credit the space book with being the launching point for my lifelong love affair with the stars.

To that end, this love is mostly a private love. I do not identify myself except in topic-specific blog posts as an astronomy nerd. I am interested by manned and robotic space missions, but those do not define my love of space. I am interested by astro-physics but those do not define my love of space. My love of space is closer to a love of beauty, a love of creation, and not a love of knowledge or a love of humanity. Did you know there are different kinds of spiral galaxy? The holotype for spiral galaxies is called the “Grand Design Spiral” and I think that is the perfect description and absolute poetry. My favorite thing in space that you’ve never heard of is Hoag’s Object, because of the mystery and beauty of it, not because name dropping Hoag’s Object gives me a sense of superiority.

You may be aware that the James Webb Space Telescope was recently launched, activated, and started publishing it’s first images. This is great news. But I have a weird mix of emotions. I feel like the author of the song, “My Angel Is A Centerfold”, because my private love of space is being turned into a fad consumer product. I feel like the brother of the prodigal son because I am envious that my loyal love of space is being shared.

There is a phenomenon of intellectual leftists treating space as the ultimate credential. “I am not just a physicist, I am an astro-physicist, so that makes me better than you”–putting astro in front of any field of study automatically makes the bearer a high-priest of scientism. Astro-botanist, astro-geologist. Astro-accountant. This frustrates me because it takes all the beauty out of space. It’s like doing a forensic analysis of brush strokes and paint chemistry on a van Gogh painting–you aren’t appreciating the beauty of it, when you get to that micro of a level.

This is all a public demonstration of my moral failings as a human. I am not superior for loving space in my particular way. I don’t really understand why pop-culture space bothers me so much. It shouldn’t, but here I am. I guess I am writing this partly to vent that feeling, partly to check if anyone else has felt the same thing.

AMDG

CLXXV – Pews Full of Prodigal Sons

The parable of the Prodigal Son is one of my favorites. When I first converted, contemplating it helped me move past any guilt or regret I had and reminded me that any Catholic Church is a place where I will always be welcomed home.

An illusion that I think is common is to think that there is anyone out there who is not a prodigal son. It is very easy to get caught in what I have seen described as a Holiness spiral, comparing oneself and ones faith life to the manifest holiness of another or the superficial holiness of another, and feeling inadequate. There certainly are some people out there who appear to have a gift. I am not among them, and my faith life has been, is, and will likely always be a struggle.

An image that came to mind one day was the idea of a Church whose pews were filled with prodigal sons. It struck me as kind of a funny image, like how satire takes things to a hyperbolic extreme. Rows upon rows of prodigal sons, returned home to a forgiving Father.

It kind of takes the wind out of any idea that someone else is ‘holier than thou’ or especially pious. It gives me the impression of a rag-tag bunch of sinners trying their best to work out their salvation with fear and trembling. Picking up tools we have forgotten how to use, following rules whose purpose we have forgotten, and going to work for the Father on land we don’t remember how we acquired. “Am I saying this right?” one prodigal son says to another. “That’s how I say it, so I think so.” he replies.

AMDG