The following is an excerpt from an article about Entropy, Thermodynamics, and the Atonemnt I wrote for ThirdHour.org. Read the full piece here.
Put simply, the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics states that ordered things move towards disorder—entropy. Hot things grow cool. Yarn frays. Clean rooms get dirty. This tendency of all things to fall into disorder can be frustrating, saddening, and heartbreaking. But the magic inherent in this universe is that this entropy can be gamed and taken advantage of to create fabulous complexities. This curious feature that comes baked into the universe I see as a Divine Signature—a creative flair. Our most important ordinance, the Sacrament, is entropy in action.
A Poetic Universe
There is a certain poetry in this universe. A poetry that is, sadly, too seldom read and too seldom understood. Perhaps this is because the poetry is masked from plain thought by being hidden in plain sight. It is laid before our eyes every second of every day. Each syllable, word, and stanza is written in the Earth around us. It is in the way water flows down a river. In waves crashing on a beach. Or in the way electrons dance around protons and neutrons as if planets orbiting a star.
The 2nd Law of Thermodynamics is the meter and thesis by which all this poetry is written. It holds the key to reading, understanding, and making plain the rest of the cosmic text. It is the rhythm and cadence by which the universe moves, dances, and eternally creates itself.
This Cosmic Dance isn’t just limited to the physical universe. Our spiritual lives are dependent on the promise held within it. The Sacrament, itself, is the spiritual realization of this 2nd Law of Thermodynamics. Through its workings we are able to be spiritually renewed, remade, and redeemed each week. Or more to the point, through the death and resurrection of Christ we are able to be spiritually reborn each week. But how does this work? How can destruction lead to re-creation?
The Poem Inherent in All Things
Eons ago, our Sun was born from a diffuse cloud of hydrogen gas—the dusty remains of long-dead stars. Today that Sun fuses that hydrogen gathered from its cosmic ancestors at unfathomable temperatures, radiating its stellar energies outwards. It takes roughly eight minutes for that sunlight to shine through our atmosphere. This stardust, in the form of light, passes through the photosynthetic leaves of a tree which it uses to create energy in the form of various sugars. But, the tree, knowing that its years are numbered, uses that energy to form seeds which will birth the next generation of trees. These seeds are stored within houses of sugars, cellulose, and water. A perfectly appetizing package—otherwise known as an apple.
Then take that apple. By itself, it is whole and complete. If we bite into it, we pierce its skin and break its flesh. As we chew, we further crush and bruise the apple’s flesh until it is fully broken and consumed. Once in our stomachs, our bodies will break it down further at the molecular level and assimilate it into our own bodies. No longer is the apple complete and whole—through violence we have destroyed it. But the apple’s destruction contributes to our re-creation. We get to live another day because an apple ceased to exist. Or more pointedly, the apple lives in us as we get to be alive another day. The apple and I are one.
This is the drum by which the entire universe moves. The atoms in your body were forged in the heart of a dying star billions of years ago. Those atoms were passed to you by sunlight, tree, and fruit. The breath in your lungs has been breathed by countless creatures big and small. The salt in your tears has traveled through earth, sea, and sky to stand as witness to your suffering and joy. Every meal you have ever eaten was once alive with the same Grace that beats your heart today. Through their mortality, you get to experience life again and they, through you, live on. You and the universe are one. This is God’s poem. This is the 2nd Law of Thermodynamics.
Read the full article here (it’s really good).
