Last Sunday night our son, Andrew, gave a stimulating presentation on star formation at our church’s Faith & Science Center’s first public event. It was a beautiful evening of Scripture, stargazing, prayer, worship, and discussion at the Myerstown Rod & Gun Club on Route 501. The weather was perfect, and the night sky was clear.
Drew’s knowledge of astronomy is light years ahead of my own, and it was a joy to hear him make connections between biblical truth and celestial realities. We talk often about the apparent expansion of the universe and its implications (e.g., heat death, entropy, the laws of thermodynamics, etc.).
One question that I particularly enjoy exploring with him: If the universe represents all known reality, what is it expanding into? It’s a scientific conundrum featuring inevitable intersections with theology. After all, Christians believe in the invisible/spiritual realm as much as we believe in the visible/natural realm. Drew explains it like a balloon being blown up, but he freely admits that the analogy breaks down because a balloon is always blown up in a room of some sort.
Pascal once said something to the effect that the purpose of rationality is to expose the limits of rationality. So, while it’s fun to watch Drew’s mind work, it’s even more gratifying to watch him take his place as a finite creature beneath the infinite Creator who gave him his wonderful mind in the first place. We share a common conviction that science, in the end, is really a study of God’s imagination.
This past Saturday afternoon, our daughter, Bethany, gave an engaging presentation on how to study the Bible at our church’s second annual Women’s Retreat. In her breakout session, she spoke to a packed room of ladies about a simple yet powerful method called “O-I-A,” which stands for Observe, Interpret, and Apply. She explained the method with joy, humor, clear explanations, and a specific example from Paul’s letter to the Ephesians.
She had handouts, PowerPoint slides, and a rolling Q&A time as she illustrated the method. I was delighted at how impactful it was. In fact, right now I’m teaching a Thursday night Growth Group at Ephrata Community Church called, “How to Read the Bible for All Its Worth,” and I sat there thinking to myself, “She could easily teach this method to my students, and they would benefit greatly by using it in their own lives.” (I need to ask her what she’s doing this Thursday night.)
I especially appreciated her emphasis on authorial intention, historical-cultural context, and the logical development of an apostolic assertion that can be uncovered with patient observation. (“Tracing the argument” is what we call it in seminary.) Particularly helpful was her encouragement to identify, where possible, the persons of the Trinity that may be at work in the passage.
On Friday night Bethany told me she had too much to say and not enough time to say it. It was more evidence she’s not adopted. Like father, like daughter. I encouraged her to do the best she could with the time she had, and she did. Though I’m surely biased, I think she hit it out of the park. And just like her father after every sermon is delivered or every lesson is given, she wasn’t totally convinced it was as good as it really was. (More evidence she’s genetically mine.) Bethany seriously needs to consider becoming a women’s retreat speaker herself. She has a lot to offer others, probably more than she realizes.
All that to say this: I’m immensely proud of my two kids. To sit under their teaching now and learn new things from them is a parent’s dream come true. They know Jesus, and they’re making him known. As the Apostle John put it, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth” (3 John 4). Thank you, Lord, for your goodness to us.