Saturday, December 18
Were There Three Magi?
Thursday, December 16
The Life of Moses
Thursday, December 9
The Star of Bethlehem
Friday, November 26
Formed From the Dust
On a biological level, we see that the human body is made up of minerals - and materials - found in the earth. 63% of the human body is made up of hydrogen, 18% carbon, 25.5% oxygen, and 7% other. There are 59 elements in our bodies, and all 59 of them are from the earth. (Percentages estimated, some research shows that the body is 65% oxygen and 10% hydrogen, others show the reverse.) Aside from the aforementioned elements, it is necessary for our bodies to have tin, silicon, fluorine, and vanadium. Now, the human body is not only made up of "dust" of the earth, but water. The average human body is made up of 75% water - if water was combined with dust, it is only logical that it would produce clay. It is also true that the human body is not only comprised of dust and water. We have bones, muscles, the like.

We see that the motif of dust and water - clay - is concurrent throughout scripture. When St. Paul is discussing our resurrection body, he tells us in 2nd Corinthians 15:47, "The first man [our current body] was of the dust of the earth; the second man is of heaven." Even Solomon, in Ecclesiastes 12:7 says, "and the dust returns to the ground it came from, and the spirit returns to God who gave it." Psalm 139:13-14 says, "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."
On another level, modern science has determined that we are not merely dust, but stardust. The aforementioned elements that make up the human body were formed within a star, long ago. This beautiful insight actually has very intriguing theological implications. Christian theologian Elizabeth Johnson notes, "Understanding the human species as an intrinsic part of planetary and cosmic matter has far-reaching implications for the meaning of incarnation. In this perspective, the human flesh that the Word became is part of the vast body of the cosmos. Theologians have started to use the phrase 'deep incarnation,' coined by Danish theologian Niels Gregersen, to express this radical divine reach into the very tissue of biological existence and the wider system of nature. Like all human beings, Jesus carried within himself what Jesuit Father David Toolan has called 'the signature of the supernovas and the geology and life history of the Earth.' The genetic structure of his cells made him part of the whole community of life that descended from common ancestors in the ancient seas. The flesh that the Word became thus reaches beyond Jesus and other human beings to encompass the whole biological world of living creatures and the cosmic dust of which we are composed... By becoming flesh the Word of God confers blessing on the whole of earthly reality in its material dimension, and beyond that, on the cosmos in which the Earth exists. Rather than being a barrier that distances us from the divine, this material world becomes a sacrament that can reveal divine presence. In place of spiritual contempt for the world, we ally ourselves with the living God by loving the whole natural world, part of the flesh that the Word became."
Johnson, Elizabeth. "For God so Loved the Cosmos." Environment. U.S. Catholic, 2013. Web.
Thursday, November 25
What Are You Thankful For?
Saturday, November 13
"His Love Endures Forever"
Thursday, November 4
Jesus: The Most Influential Person in History?
Sunday, October 10
What is Love?

Saturday, October 2
God and Government: The Separation of Church and State (Part Two)
Tuesday, September 28
God and Government: The Separation of Church and State (Part One)

Sunday, September 26
Does God Hear All The Prayers of Humanity?
Lewis employs an imaginative analogy to illustrate God’s relation to time. Imagine an author writing a novel. Within the novel are two characters, "Martha" and "Clark." One scene unfolds with Clark sitting in his living room when Martha calls. As Clark goes to answer the phone, the author pauses writing and deliberates—perhaps for hours—on what should come next. During this pause, time continues for the author, but not for the characters in the story. For Martha and Clark, no time has passed; the next moment simply arrives. In this analogy, the author’s relationship to the fictional world mimics, albeit imperfectly, God’s relationship to creation.
Lewis makes the theological point that “God is not hurried along in the time-stream of this universe any more than an author is hurried along in the imaginary time of his own novel.” Because God exists outside of time—what Christian theology refers to as divine atemporality—he has, as Lewis says, “infinite attention to spare for each one of us.” Thus, God's engagement with human beings is not constrained by sequential, earthly time. "You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had created," Lewis writes. This forms the theological basis for the claim that Christ’s death was for each person individually, as though that person were the only human in existence.
This analogy resonates with the claim in Hebrews 12:2, which describes Jesus as “the author and perfecter of faith.” The metaphor positions God as both transcendent author and immanent participant—within and beyond the boundaries of time.
To expand the metaphor further, we might consider an example drawn from popular culture: the 1982 film Tron. In the film, the game designer Kevin Flynn is drawn into a digital world of his own making. Although Flynn exists outside this created environment, he enters into it and interacts with it as one of its inhabitants. As the designer, Flynn determined the logic and temporality of the game’s universe—he could step away for what seems like hours or days in his world, while time within the game would remain unchanged. While not a theological analogy per se, the parallel is suggestive: if God, like Flynn, stands outside of creation and its constraints, then divine attention to each individual prayer need not be limited by temporal simultaneity.
Christian theology, while acknowledging the limits of human analogy, would affirm that God’s capacity to hear and respond to prayer is not bound by human limitations. As Jeremiah 29:13 affirms, “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” The theological claim is not only that God hears but that God is always capable of responding—because divine time is not our time.
Of course, such analogies are simplifications of far more complex theological doctrines. Still, they can offer meaningful insight. More broadly, prayer is a near-universal feature of religious life, found in traditions as diverse as Buddhism, Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, and Sikhism. Within the Christian tradition, human beings are said to be created imago Dei—in the image of God—a concept that affirms the inherent dignity and value of each person. From this foundation, Christian theology holds that each individual is uniquely known and loved by God.
Thus, through such theological reasoning and imaginative analogies, one may argue that a transcendent and omnipotent deity could, indeed, hear all prayers at once—not in spite of divine transcendence, but precisely because of it.