Precious Wormholes

Precious Wormholes

Eph 4:6 (There is) One God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all , and in you all.

Paul’s prepositions leave me dizzy sometimes. It is because he is describing something that is not a physical thing that I can see, touch, or measure with a yardstick. These are abstractions, as opposed to concretes. For instance; the truth that Jesus sits at the right hand of the Father does not describe a concrete; as if God were sitting at a set of given coordinates in space and Jesus was at His right hand. It is a description of authority. The "right hand" is similar to the authoritative position that Joseph had with Pharaoh after Pharaoh placed his ring on Joseph’s finger (Gen. 41). When prepositions are used to describe abstract concepts, they are less precise. One person may say "I pray in the name of Jesus". Another says "I pray through the name of Jesus". Another says "I pray by the name of Jesus". Concretely, they disagree. If something is "in" something else, we mean it is enveloped by it. If something is "through" something we mean some of it is sticking out one side and some the other. Abstractly, however, we can agree that they are saying the same thing.


I prefer concrete. It tends to leave less doubt and does not allow a lot of room for debate. When I think of God I want him to be a concrete Entity Who is at given coordinates in space and time. No matter how much I want that, however, I know that He cannot be limited to that, or limited in any way unless He chooses to limit Himself by His promises, which are irrefutable. He "cannot" destroy the world by water. He promised.

I am sitting in an isolated farm house. It is 18 degrees outside and snow passes my window in horizontal streaks. Or is it that my house is flying through the snow? I have no frame of reference. Nothing but a light grey background. I may as well be drifting in deep space, in which case we could not say which was moving; only that one or both were moving relative to the other. I am pretty sure my wife is at work right now, concretely 5 miles away. My son is at work, concretely 7 miles the other direction. My daughter is schooling my grandchildren 250 concrete miles away. I visited my Dad recently, but the old Ford pickup put 750 concrete miles of road between us. I am away from him and it doesn’t feel as comfy as when we were sitting at his kitchen table playing Rummy. None of my family in Christ are concretely by my side presently. Only abstractly; but I guess I have not grown in the Spirit enough for that to fully satisfy. Only Sunday at the old concrete church bldg. will suffice.

Time and space. Time and space. I use that phrase a lot because it is my ever present prison guard sitting on a high horse with rifle in hand. His straw cowboy hat provides shade. His shirt sleeves flap in the breeze while I swelter in the quarry below. It makes my life difficult.

I heated a frozen Burrito with waves of electromagnetic radiation moving at the speed of light. That’s not cooking. Not like my wife does it at home. I feel better when my loved ones are concretely in the house with me. They make me warm and relaxed. I like to think myself independent enough to thrive alone, but I probably wouldn’t do well as a hermit.

Though I accept that Paul’s gaggle of prepositions, all used to modify the same object, are true, I have to accept that by faith. For now, it is somewhere between knowledge and imagination. Paul admitted as much. 1 Cor 13:12 For now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

I think I feel much like David when he said Ps 51:11 Cast me not away from thy presence ; and take not thy holy spirit from me. David was insecure when he felt that God was distant. Like a child with his favorite blanket, David longed to hang on to the hem of God’s garment all through his life. So do I because I am a lump of matter, stuck. I need a passageway, a "wormhole" if you will, that I can go through and touch the hem of my Lord’s garment.

Now bear with a little musing here, for hopefully it paints a picture of a very real truth. People privy to more info. than I say that space is curved or folded. It only appears straight to us because the light of stars, the streaming rays of which may have been there since creation, are registering through our optic nerve as single points of light. It’s sort of like the discernable picture on your TV that has come through a tangle of wires. That’s not technically accurate, I’m sure, but serves as a rough illustration. We know there are "black holes" and near or inside these may be "wormholes" (Einstein-Rosen bridges). They could be a shortcut to another fold of space or to another dimension altogether. They are mathematically probable.



So how can we sense the nearness of God who permeates the whole universe, and all other dimensions that may exist; and Whose presence, wisdom, and power extends on infinitely?

Here is what I mean to illustrate with wormholes. God knows that we cannot comprehend the thicket of prepositions needed to describe true abstractions about Him; and He knows that we need to be assured that He is not dead or on a trip billions of light years away, but is concretely very near. That is why, bless His heart, He has already created a couple of wormholes for us. They are passageways to a more concrete realization of God’s presence. It is outside, inside, and through; but it is very close. As close as the breath in your nostrils. The passageways through which we draw near are none other than those tangible rituals that the church has observed for two millennia now. They are…..baptism and the Lord’s supper.

The older I get, the more precious these ancient elements of the Christian doctrine become.



Baptism. I have baptized in clean water and dirty water, heated water and water made clear of ice, still water and water flowing so fast that someone had to hold on to a tree root with one hand and my belt with the other. Splashing. Gurgling. Plunging. A solemn burial. The sinner takes one last breath of the stench of iniquities, and catches the first breath of an eternally pristine morning. The sound of the "bap" "ti" "zo" as the sinner hits the surface, goes under, and rises again as pure as the heart of our sweet Jesus. Coughing and sputtering mixed with laughter and joy. The wiping clear of new eyes that see things never dreamed of. The hugs and tears and "welcome brother". I do it into the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins and the receiving of the Holy Spirit. I hear the crack of lightning as His gavel strikes and the verdict is overturned. It is sealed with an authority that paralyzes every minion of Hell. I see Him surround the sinner with His own blood. For that brief moment, I have been jerked through a wormhole. I have touched the hem of my Lord’s garment.

The Lord’s Supper. An old wooden table spread with a simple meal. Now the noise is muted. Now the dust settles. Now time stops. Busy men are brought to a standstill; their heads are bowed and calloused hands are folded. Nothing matters except work that we could not do, a price that we could not pay. Deep groans of terror suffered by One. Deep sighs of relief breathed by many. Ruptured is a barrier that made all others pale. Vanquished. Obliterated. Forever sinking in a bottomless sea. Never to be remembered again. What is this bread? I break it between my teeth. It is not bitter. It is not sweet. It is just broken. I broke it. What is this violet libation that snaps me to absolute sobriety? It washes my mouth clean of the bread. It is only one swallow but it quenches like no other. I feel it sink deep into my chest. It pierces my heart and spreads through my members. It is pure. I am not. Like ice water pouring through a hot steel pipe. The reaction is violent but soon fades. The liquid quickly prevails. What was that He said? Matt 26:29 But I say unto you, I will not drink henceforth of this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom. Is He here, with me? Yes; just over my shoulder. I show Him my wounds that are bleeding me dry. He shows me His. From them flows an eternal river that cannot run dry. For that brief moment, I have been jerked through a wormhole. I have touched the hem of my Lord’s garment. The panic stops. The kicking and gasping stops. The bleeding stops. He is here. He has filled me with His blood and I am sane again.

In, through, above, below, to, fro, beside, ad infinitum. How can you modify God with a preposition? How can you modify Him at all? If He says He is with you, oh my brother, believe it