Dancing with the stars

"The universe is God's name writ large. Thought goes up the shining suns as golden stairs and reads the consecutive syllables, all might, and wisdom, and beauty, and, if the heart be fine enough and pure enough, it also reads everywhere the mystic name of love. The stars speak the oldest language. The morning stars sing together...How can God write his name more widely or plainly, hold the open page before all men more constantly or how can we read the message in more impressive language? Some have asked whether the myriads of distant worlds were inhabited. It is not known. Perhaps it is a sufficient cause of their being that they should testify so effectually of God to every man, whether savage or sage, in all ages of time. Let us learn to read the hieroglyphics, and then often turn to the blazonry of the page." (Studies in the Stars, Henry W. Warren) 

Someone asked me why I'm reading 19th century books for my year of Chautauqua Literary & Science Circle--see above. I’m not sure I can explain the wellspring of joy that rises up in me when I sashay through the introductory chapter of my 1883 CLSC text Studies in the Stars, by Henry White Warren, DD. Unlike today’s jargon-rich, slightly arch introductory science texts that sometimes seem to derive more from Seinfeld than Einstein, this teeny Victorian “Chautauqua Text Book” reverently, joyfully, and unapologetically declares that the heavens declare the glory of God and are, indeed, His handiwork. And in case you don't get it at first glance, each chapter opens or concludes with Scripture celebrating the mystery and marvel of the starry hosts who move at God’s command.

There’s a nasty rumor around that the Victorians were fussy, uptight, narrow types, but when you do a little digging beyond the stereotypes, you find wide-eyed enthusiasts who fairly bristle with curiosity, zest for life, and an unquenchable appreciation for their surroundings. You might expect era-driven conflict between Science and God—nothing could be farther from the truth, because, it’s all about the Truth for Victorians. Since God created the world and everything in it, from microcosm to galaxy, exploration and discovery only lead you closer to your Maker. 

This pocket-sized text assumes you’re studying to gain knowledge, not taking a stroll through the starry skies for mere entertainment. Planetary characteristics, meteoric systems, star-to-star distances, discussions of how light years were discovered (it involves the tides and gravity—no kidding!!)—each brief chapter is jammed with information, but it’s all predicated on the foundation of God as Creator. There’s no debate; it’s a settled fact. To readers worried about exploding novas just discussed, William soothingly says: “We are not living under a government of chance, but under that of an Almighty Father, who upholdth all things by the word of His power, and no world can come to ruin till He sees that it is best.” Whew!  

Reading this tattered little book (obviously well-worn from functioning as some 19th c. Chautauquan's iPhone) has given me a deep sense of appreciation for Chautauqua’s educational outreach and wide-ranging scope. But more than that, it offers the 21st century reader an odd sensation of navigating a completely harmonic cosmos, a place where the poetic and the scientific embrace in a waltz of surprising lyricism. Orbits and arcs, parabolas that loop and return, wheeling asteroids that follow invisible hierarchies—here, we dance with the stars. 

When I turned over the book's final, slightly brittle leaf, two things lingered in my befuddled mind. One: I am incredibly stupid about astronomy--enthralled, sadly uneducated, and totally embarrassed. Two: I'm stunned at the sheer number of complicated, often obtuse factoids the reader was expected to memorize. Who cares about the weight of Mercury? Why cudgel your brain about the connection of gravity to light years? Because Chautauqua's founders believed knowing such things and being able to speak the language of the mind opens doors to a higher level of existence. You are no longer a low-browed barbarian, squinting fearfully at an eclipse. You are an educated child of the One who orchestrated this brilliant, celestial waltz.  In Warren's words..."we pass innumerable evidences of that motion that makes the heavens alive."  

"When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have ordained, what is man that You are mindful of him?" Psalm 8:3-4