From My Nature Journal: So What’s a TCO?

And now, from the 'It Might Give a Whole New Meaning to the Phrase New Moon' category, it appears that our earth has a new traveling partner, at least for a while.

I saw in the news earlier this week that a second moon has been discovered in the Earth’s gravitational system, a discovery at the Catalina Sky Survey that took place only two weeks ago, February 15. What’s the Catalina Sky Survey? According to the Internet, it's "a NASA-funded project supported by the Near Earth Object Observation Program (NEOO) under the Planetary Defense Coordination Office (PDCO), based at the University of Arizona's Lunar and Planetary Lab in Tucson, Arizona." All those abbreviations make it sound pretty important. Who knew? Essentially, their job is to discover comets and asteroids. And since at least one of those programs is there to recognize threats to our earthly existence, I guess that's a good thing, though I often think that would be a way better way to go than our destroying ourselves (either militarily or environmentally), which we sure seem bent upon sometimes...

The article's title is what grabbed my attention: Earth Captures Object Temporarily, Possible Mini-Moon. It's not very large, this object, somewhere only between six and eleven feet in diameter, so it can hardly be compared to Ol' Luna, but it's finding a chaotic path through our gravitational system, influenced by both Earth's and moon's pulls. It has even been given a name. 2020 CD3. Cute, hey> Leave it to NASA. Additionally and amusingly, we find it has been hanging around the vicinity for two or three years by now, which also gives us a great boost of NASA confidence. Lots of asteroids actually fly by Earth, though, and the only reason it's being considered a mini-moon at this point is that it has been hanging around so long. But astronomers feel it will eventually 'tire' of sticking around here and get back within a few weeks to its heliocentric (sun-centered) orbit, being flung somewhat differently as a result of its 'close encounter of the Earth kind.' 

This kind of thing is not that rare. It happened about thirteen years ago as well, an object adoringly named 2006 RH120, rotating Earth for eight months or so before it was jettisoned. But here’s the interesting thing to me: this phenomenon has a name, and that’s where my title comes in. In the astronomy field, these bodies are called Temporarily Captured Objects, or TCOs.

Temporarily captured objects. As usually happens with this blog, it’s a phrase like that one that will seize my interest and draw me to a faith parallel. In the spiritual realm, there are a lot of people like this, people whose spiritual attention is gotten, usually in some kind of crisis or time of need, but whose attention is only temporary. I was fascinated by the stories that came out of Hawaii back in January of 2018 when they had gotten that North Korean missile scare, tales of all kinds of people turning to prayer who had never prayed in their lives, prayer to a God they had not even believed had existed. And I prayed for those people at that time that such a thing might actually cause them to stop and think: why did I pray to a God I did not even think was there? But that’s extreme, that sort of Armageddon-ish fright. I think people do this all the time, God temporarily capturing their hearts, but over time, often fairly quickly, moving away from a Son-centered orbit. Actually, I not only think people do this all the time, I see people doing this all the time, and it’s heartbreaking. Temporarily captured objects.

Jesus called it out. He spoke about it in the Parable of the Soils when he explained some of its meaning by saying, ”The seed that fell on the rocky soil is likened to those who receive the Word with joy, but they send down no roots, believe for a while, then fall away in time of trouble. The seed that fell among the thorns are those who heard the Word, and as they go on their way are choked with the cares, riches, and pleasures of life, and bring no fruit to maturity.” These are the temporarily captured objects. Then there are those of a different nature, of whom Jesus said, ”Those in the good soil? These are they with an honest and good heart, having heard the Word, hold it tightly, and bring forth fruit with patience.”

Lent is upon us, a season in the church’s year that is meant for introspection, for repentance, for consideration of just why you and I needed an Easter. It’s a good time for self-examination, for soul-searching, for contemplation of whether or not we are ‘all in’ with God. And if not, why not?

God has captured me and has never let me go. It is the same with many I know, and it is my prayer he will capture you as well.

~~ RGM, February 29 2010

Blowin' in the Wind: The Dimensions of the Milky Way

("Blowin’ in the Wind" is a periodic feature on my blog consisting of an assortment of nature writings – hymns, songs, excerpts, prayers, Bible readings, poems or other things – pieces I have not written but that inspire me or give me joy. I trust they’ll do the same for you.)

Gail and I will be heading soon to the hinterland of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where a highlight we always enjoy while there are its night skies. Occasionally we are treated to some fantastic views of the aurora borealis, the northern lights. But each and every single night that is clear we’re given fantastic views of the cosmos, and I often find myself sitting long with a star map and a pair of binoculars on the end of the dock. Star clusters, nebulae and distant galaxies are not difficult to spot with binocs if one knows where to look, but they’re not my favorite sight. Besides, these are usually ‘pinpointed’ objects, where one does not get a sense of the sky’s awesome vastness, or its almost dizzying three-dimensionality. My favorite sky view? Taking a long look at the Milky Way. It almost always takes my breath away, giving me a feeling of space-flight while I’m at it.

The Milky Way is best seen without binoculars to get this sensation, though a look through field glasses or a telescope always presents an absolutely stunning array of stars not visible even to the best naked eye. After evening twilight in the U.P. in mid-August, the Milky Way runs diagonally in a fairly straight line from the northeast down to the southwest, picking up great constellations along the way like Cassiopeia, Cygnus, Lyra, Aquila, Sagittarius and Scorpio, all rotating clockwise as the night progresses. And the ‘line?’ That is because we are actually looking out ‘sideways’ through our spiral galaxy’s flattened disk, and the concentration of stars presents itself to us as a wispy, cloudy line. One is usually unable to see it from even small cities, with its artificial light typically fading away both the sky’s blackness and the Milky Way’s lightness at the same time.

One can easily get caught up in the complexity and enormity of this galaxy we call home. Over 100 billion beautiful suns and at least as many planets. 100,000 light years across. And up until a mere century ago last year it was thought to be much smaller and, at that, alone in the universe. But then a man named Harlow Shapley worked out its rough vast dimensions, including the placement of our solar system within it, and informed a near disbelieving world. On and on it has gone since, as we have found our galaxy one among many, its address among what is called a ‘local group’ of galaxies within a larger supercluster, which is then itself within an even larger galactic supercluster. And some are even postulating our universe itself may belong to a ‘multiverse’ consisting of numerous universes.

A person need not be overwhelmed by this, though, since, once we are up to considering a galaxy 100,000 light years across, bigness just gets bigger. And God just gets to still be God.

I recently ran across a poem written about Shapley’s discovery and wanted to share it with you. I know nothing about its author, but would be glad to meet her some day and talk about it. Here it is.

The Dimensions of the Milky Way
by Marilyn Nelson
Discovered by Harlow Shapley, 1918

Behind the men’s dorm
at dusk on a late May evening,
Carver lowers the paper
and watches the light change.

He tries to see earth
across a distance
of twenty-five thousand light-years,
from the center of the Milky Way:
a grain of pollen, a spore
of galactic dust.

He looks around:
that shagbark, those swallows,
the fireflies, that blasted mosquito:
this beautiful world.
A hundred billion stars
in a roughly spherical flattened disc
with a radius of one hundred thousand light-years.

Imagine that.

He catches a falling star.

Well, Lord, this infinitesimal speck
could fill the universe with praise.

Indeed. I could not agree more.

The sky is fascinating. It captivated the ancients as they tried to figure out how this whole thing works, and it even mesmerized the Bible writers with awe and appreciation for its (and their) Creator. And it captivates and mesmerizes me, and I hope you.

When I consider your heavens and the works of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have set in place… O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! (Psalm 8: 3, 9)

~~ RGM, July 30, 2019

From My Nature Journal: A Prayer Celestial for Us Terrestrial, OR, The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God

On Christmas Eve earlier this week, our family had just come outside from having attended Christmas Eve service at the local Methodist church here in Coupeville. Two of our four children and their families were visiting for the holiday, and though it was shortly past only 6pm, we were greeted with what I think was the clearest, starriest sky we’ve seen since our move to western Washington. And what a night for it, Christmas Eve, a night heralded by a star in another place and another time. After the short drive home we all stood a bit transfixed in the driveway and continued looking up, all six adults and even some of the five small grandchildren, mesmerized by what is indeed an unusual sight this time of year.

I’m not sure what it is about a clear night sky that can draw one to contemplation of the Creator. It almost seems that E.T. had it partly right, though, when he assured Elliott “I’ll be right here.” The Lord is present in his sanctuary.

Anyway, once home, it reminded me of something I wrote nearly twenty years ago in my nature journal, a piece called “A Prayer Celestial for Us Terrestrial, OR, The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God.”¹ I got the idea for the celestial/terrestrial interplay somewhere, but could not then find a source, nor now. Here it is.

A Prayer Celestial for Us Terrestrial

OR

The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God¹

Blessed are You, O Lord, our God celestial,

Creator of the heavens and the earth² terrestrial –

‘The skies proclaim the work of Your hands.’³

You created us in Your image,⁴

Have given us hungry minds that feast on learning

And delight in exploring the wonders of Your universe.

Bless my heav’n-aimed eyes, terrestrial –

Instruments for admiring the heavens that tell Your glory¹ celestial–

‘No speech, no word, is heard,

Yet their report goes forth through all the earth.’⁵

‘You know the number of the stars

And call each of them by name.’⁶

Bless all who look heav’n-ward, terrestrial –

May we be drawn to love the Mystery celestial,

Gazing back through time into Your vast, majestic drama

Of the birth, life, movement, even death of

Planets, nebulae, stars, galaxies,

And all things created, celestial and terrestrial.

We make this prayer through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

¹Psalm 19:1a                                                                                      

²Isaiah 40:28

³Psalm 19:1b

⁴Genesis 1:27

⁵Psalm 19:3-4

⁶Psalm 147:4

It is my prayer that each of you may follow the Bethlehem star and find where it leads.

~~RGM, December 29, 2018