A Galaxy Far, Far Away

Shane had that peculiar expression again. He managed to make is eyes grow wider while, at the same, time knitting his brows closer together. Something bothered him.

“What’s up, little man?” 

“Daddy, what’s heaven? Reverend Lorne says that Grampa is looking ‘down on me’ from heaven – as if its above the sky.  But at school we are learning about planets. Mrs. Parke says what’s above the sky is outer space.”

I wiped my hands on my jeans. The dishes were half done, but they’d keep. My seven-year-old son was upset, and I would do everything I could to make it right.

“C’mon, let’s sit down,” I said, giving myself more time to think. How to approach this subject?  Shane was a whiz at math. I’d tackle this geometrically.

We nestled on the couch, Shane in my lap. His expression had morphed from confusion to expectancy. This child thought I had all the answers. I prayed he would keep on thinking that until we were both old and gray.

“See that toy car over there?” I asked, pointing at the Matchbox Racers his mother had, every hour, on the hour, asked him to put away.  Shane nodded.

“It’s pretty small, isn’t it?”

Nod.

“So, if that car is smaller than us, can you imagine that there are some things even bigger than us, bigger than the whole world?”

I watched as little wheels spun in his tiny, adorable head, and then continued, “And, so, this huge space that holds planet Earth, and Mars and the sun and the moon – it’s called a galaxy.  Our galaxy is called ‘the Milky Way’.”

“What a weird name,” Shane said. “Is the Milky Way heaven?”

“Not quite. If we are bigger than the toy car, the planet is bigger than us, and the Milky Way is bigger than the planet, it is possible for something to be even bigger than the Milky Way.”

“And that’s heaven!” Shane cried triumphantly.

“It is,” I said. “And, its everything in between.  Heaven is the space all around the Milky Way and all other galaxies, far, far away. Heaven is in the space between the Milky Way and Earth … the space between they sky and us … even the space between us and that little car over there. Do you understand?”

“Heaven is all around us.”

“That’s right!”  I exclaimed, pleased that my bright little boy had understood this complex concept so easily.  I was on a roll. I decided to throw in some physics. Surely, he was ready for this.

“Heaven is all around us, but it isn’t just space, its also time.”

“Huh?”

“Heaven is so big that time has no meaning.  Grampa isn’t an old man, in heaven, he’s the young man he was a long time ago. But he’ll be in the future too, because, if heaven is all around us, then he’s in here,” I said gently placing my finger on his heart and then mine too.

“Grampa’s with us in the past and he’s with us in the future because heaven is all around us and always with us. Do you understand, Shane?”

“Yup. Thanks, Dad,” he said, jumping up from my lap. I was amazed at how quickly my son grasped the intricacies of heaven as space and time.  He then performed another miracle by putting his toys away.  Smugly, I returned to the dishes, thinking my son was a genius and I was no slouch either.  I had this parenting thing down. 
The following Sunday, space and time came to a sudden halt in the middle of Reverend Lorne’s sermon. He asked, rhetorically, “What is heaven?”  No babies cried. No candy wrappers crinkled.  No hymnals fell to the floor with a thud.  There was complete and utter silence, as my son, the genius, shouted:

“Heaven is a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.  My Grampa lives there!”















Photo Credit: UIG via Getty Images