The Smallness of the Universe.

“The Universe is but a small and passing thing. It is, perhaps, bigger on the inside, on the outside it is but a scroll, rolled up, as a book, it is little more than a word. It is a shadow of a thought. I’d like to know the mind of the thinker.”

-Me

I suppose it is a little strange to quote oneself, but what if we were to look at the Universe slightly differently than we might be accustomed to? We tend to think of it as this big thing, this great big thing, too vast to comprehend even. I suggest it is perfectly comprehensible, and not as big as it appears. In fact, I like the consideration that the Universe is only bigger on the inside, on the outside, one could hold it in one’s hand, no problem. If one dared to hold such a sacred object as the whole of all creation. I do not dare. For one thing, if I dropped it, I don’t think an ‘oops’ would suffice. But I find the idea of the smallness of the Universe to be a comforting one. The whole of creation is small, and it is passing, even if billions of years were to pass by within it, it still is but a little while in light of the whole of reality, a little wisp of vapor that comes, and then is gone before its time. Billions of years passes like an instant in the greater view of things.

But at its root what is the Universe? It must be something, that much is obvious, but the only thing it can be is something comprised of information. How can it be anything except information? When you get down to the most essential fundamental essence of the Universe it is either present or it is not present. It is or it isn’t. I suspect that before anything else, the Universe operates on a sort of binary code, but instead of 1’s and 0’s it is something more like ‘on’ and ‘off’ or ‘present’ and ‘not present’ or even if you will: ‘real’ and ‘not real’. But it seems very clear to me that at it’s most fundamental level the base-code of the Universe, if you will, is a binary code. What the code is, I do not know. To be or not to be, that is the question, and in many ways it sums up well, the essential reality of reality itself. It either is or it isn’t. It is to be, or not to be. From this binary code comes the building blocks for more complex information, such as words perhaps. Lets say that each of the building blocks was made up of a complex string of information, and while I’m not good at math, I’m fairly sure you can have quite an extensive library of information at your disposal if you strung sequences of a binary code together, lets say for example that a single character could be made up of a sequence of either the ‘to be’ or ‘not to be’ and that the string of ‘to be’ or ‘not to be’ could be of infinite length. That’s just one character, but of infinite complexity. Now, that character is itself a small part of a code, which in turn forms an exceedingly complex word, that word in turn is part of a complex sentence. And these are the foundations of what we call reality. This is how something can be spoken into being. Because it is a digital universe, all things will eventually break down into a sequence of information, you have the right information, in the right order, you can turn that into things. Like sub-atomic particles, and yes, when things get much bigger, atoms, and much bigger than that, matter, and then things like stars, galaxies, peanut butter, and so forth. But it is all at its most fundamental essence, information. We must live in a digital universe. The Universe isn’t as a scroll, it is a scroll. It’s a book, it’s a story. It’s information, it is words. it is an idea. What we call reality is an idea. How else can all things consist in someone, except as an idea? The scriptures tell us that in Christ all things consist. It’s quite simple really. All things exist at their most fundamental level, as information. It is the idea and Christ is the one who is thinking it.

I keep coming back to the notion that reality itself is but an idea in the mind of Christ, and that is how it is that all things that were made by Christ, which is to say all that we call reality, including time itself, is sustained by Christ, who is the thinker that keeps reality, real. We are a story.

I mean, it makes sense to me, that if all things consist in someone, then all things consist, in someone the only way they can, if they are a thought, or an idea, before they are anything else. But it isn’t like our minds, which are easily sidetracked and such, for example, while writing this post, I got sidetracked writing about how wonderful it is to try to see how everyone is beautiful, and when I do everyone becomes beautiful to me, transforming how I see just about everyone I meet into someone precious. But, that is just me getting sidetracked from writing one thing. God’s not like me, in that sense, he can think about things, and continue to think about things, and keep on thinking about it. He has a focus I’m entirely without, and I imagine it isn’t difficult for him to keep his focus. It’s not like Angel Bob comes along, drops the proverbial pin, and God gets sidetracked by the pin with the angels on it and everything just ends. (Thanks a lot, Bob! I was busy writing something, and I haven’t published it yet. Humph!)

I could be wrong, but I am firmly convinced that the laying out of ideas, no matter how strange or even absurd they might seem, is more beneficial to the discovering of truth than to shoot them down because they don’t happen to fit what we think the things ought to look like. So I know all this might seem a bit strange, but it makes perfect sense to me, in five years I might find sufficient reason to think otherwise. But I pursue truth, even at the risk of absurdity. I want to know, not believe, but know, why it is that all things consist in Christ. So I start with the idea that all truth is God’s truth, and examine the Universe for clues to what it is that it is made of. All I can come up with, time and time again, even if I don’t quite understand how it is that I got there, is that it is first and foremost, an idea, a thought.

That doesn’t mean it’s not real. Quite the contrary. It doesn’t alter the reality of things to find the nature of reality itself is different than we expected it to be, but looking at something within it, is different than looking at something without it, and if it is something different than we’re accustomed to, of course it’s true that we can only ever have an imperfect understanding of it.

I am curious to see what I will find as I ponder the world around me. It is a beautiful world, and complicated. But my imagination brings about comprehension of that which I don’t quite understand, and helps me to understand it in a way that provides insight into what might actually be. You tell me the Universe is a word, and it makes perfect sense, but I can’t quite explain why it makes perfect sense, except that as an author myself, I instinctively know what it is to make universes out of words, I do it all the time. So, it doesn’t seem odd to me to consider the possibility that I happen to live in such a universe.