Full Circle

Covid ICU. Credit: NBC News

A year ago, on Friday, April 10th, 2020, I came off the ventilator in Covid ICU. Last night, one of our patients came off the ventilator in Covid ICU.

I lived. She died. And I don’t know what to make of that.

I was her chaplain. I had just finished praying the rosary for her when I learned she was going on comfort care. Life support would be stopped. Pain and anxiety relief would stay. Very soon, the order came through.

The nurse, the nurse assistant, the respiratory therapist and myself were with her when the breathing tube was removed. The nurse assistant and I held her hands while the respiratory therapist tended to the necessary tasks of extubation. The nurse stroked the patient’s hair.

She had no chance of survival. She couldn’t breathe on her own. I watched as the light faded from her face. I told her, “You’re going to heaven now.” I said a prayer of commendation as the life left her eyes.

Covid patients don’t die alone. They die with us, their healthcare workers. We were her family in the final hours and minutes of life. That was a blessing—of a kind. And yet the language of blessing fails in this pandemic time.

I am blessed to be alive. Or am I merely fortunate? After all, I lived and she died. I don’t know what to make of that, and doubt I ever will.

— Nelsonia

Putting my cards on the table

I’ll be writing often about science and religion in this blog. If this topic interests you, read on.

I think it’s only fair that I put my cards on the table. One thing I’ve learned in ministry is that it’s almost always best to air one’s unspoken assumptions. This avoids a lot of guesswork and the misreading of intent. Knowing my assumptions will also help you decide if you want to read this blog and recommend it to others.

So here are seven assumptions that I bring to my discussions of science and religion:

1. There is a personal, creator God.

2. Jesus was the physical and spiritual incarnation of this God on earth. He really lived. He really died.

3. Jesus rose from the dead, meaning he came back to life in a transformed body, in a way that we do not.

4. The scientific method is a valid, truth finding discipline that yields reliable knowledge about the universe and everything in it.

5. Scientific knowledge is not absolute but progressive, because science is based on experimentation and theory and each are continually advancing.

6. Science and religion must work together because truth is one.

7. If there is an irreconcilable conflict between a truth of science and a truth of religion, I will side with science, with the understanding, however, that all scientific findings are provisional, even the most certain. Science is like the limit theorem, always approaching the truth but never quite reaching it. Therefore, subsequent discoveries may resolve conflicts that today appear irreconcilable.

As I’m sure is obvious, I bring some Christian non-negotiables to the table. That said, if irrefutable evidence of Jesus’ bones were discovered tomorrow, I would have to reconsider the doctrine of the Resurrection, and perhaps much else. Some religious teachings are vulnerable to disproof, and the Resurrection is one of them. I don’t always like that aspect of science, but I respect it.

Finally, I believe that truth is one, that logical contradictions call for resolution, and that peace of mind is worth some work. I value intellectual integrity a great deal, and will work hard to achieve it, even at the expense of cherished beliefs (more about that in an upcoming post). Fortunately, I have yet to surrender a core Christian belief due to a scientific finding. May that ever be. Amen.

The Two Books of God. Day 13.

I believe that Book of Science needs to become part of religious worship because the Book of Science is true, and all truth is of God. We need hymns that draw not only from the beautiful passages from the Bible, but also from the majestic realities of the universe.

This is a hymn written by me and my brother Brian Nelson, titled Praise God, the Lord of Space and Time. Here I interweave our knowledge of the universe with the beliefs of the Christian faith. I offer this song as the final post of the series Two Books of God.

My hope is that – whatever sacred text you read – the Book of Science will be a trusted guide that explains new dimensions of God and points out the glories of the Universe. May the God of your understanding keep you in awe and wonder always.

Praise God, the Lord of Space and Time

Praise God, the Lord of space and time,
Who made the earth and sky,
The One who set the stars aflame
And lifted mountains high.

Praise God, who made the tree of life
And sowed the world with flowers.
Who formed the beasts and gave them food
And made all good things ours.

Praise God, the Seeker of the lost
Who clothed himself in flesh.
The One named Jesus died for us
And left all creatures blessed.

Praise Christ, the King, who shall return
To make creation new.
The universe will hum with joy
And trees sing allelu.


Text: Eric D. Nelson, b. 1963
Tune: GALILEO, 86 866; Brian J. Nelson, b. 1967
© 2013, International Liturgy Publications
PO Box 50476, Nashville, TN 37205
www.ILPmusic.org, 888-898-SONG
All rights reserved. International copyright reserved.

The Two Books of God. Day 11.

The Hubble Space Telescope. Our six-day zoom-out tour of the heavens is complete. I hope you enjoyed it, but why does it matter? It matters because our perspective is changing. For most of human history we’ve been looking at the sky with eyes designed for hunting game and gathering plants. We were unable to appreciate the wonders of the Universe because we couldn’t see them.

Then everything changed. Using God’s gift of reason, we created new eyes that can see the faintest light and make far things appear near. They’re called telescopes, and with their help we looked at the universe and saw so much more than we did before. With better sight came new perspectives. How will these new perspectives change our understanding of God?

The Two Books of God. Day 9.

Wonder E. The Andromeda Galaxy. This is the galaxy closest to our own – though close is a relative term. The light that made this image left Andromeda 2.5 million years ago, back when the early ancestors of humans were living in Africa.

The Andromeda Galaxy holds a special significance for me. One summer, when I was twelve years old, I was at church camp. It was late at night. We were all in bed, sleeping soundly. For no apparent reason, our cabin counselor woke us up and led us outside. He pointed to an oval patch of light in the eastern sky. “Do you know what that is?” he asked. We shook our heads. “That’s the Andromeda galaxy.” I was overwhelmed with awe, and at that moment began to believe in God. I am grateful for that camp counselor, who cared enough to awaken a young boy to wonder.

The Two Books of God. Day 8.

Wonder D. M56. This star cluster is Messier Object 56. (Messier was the astronomer who discovered it.) M56 is a globular cluster, a ball of ancient stars that lies outside our galaxy. Globular clusters were often mistaken for comets before the era of telescopes, because they look like fuzzy balls of light to the naked eye. But they are not comets; they are tiny satellite galaxies that orbit our own.

There are over 150 of these globular clusters, arranged in a halo around the Milky Way. They are 10 billion years old, more than twice as old as Earth. But without powerful telescopes and the insights of astronomers, they would only be hazy patches of light, rather than the glorious fireworks display shown this image. What other glories of God are awaiting discovery in the unturned pages of the Book of Science?

The Two Books of God. Day 6.

Wonder B. Saturn. This is Saturn seen from the Cassini spacecraft. The sun is behind the planet, making the rings glow and casting the planet’s face in shadow. In the upper left, just above the bright rings, you can see a pale dot. That’s Earth. It’s a powerful image, almost overwhelming in intensity. How could this possibly exist? And yet it does.

In our last town, I volunteered at the local observatory helping with tours. Whenever I showed Saturn through my telescope, schoolchildren would either say, “Wow!” or “That’s fake!” Saturn didn’t look quite as powerful as this image, of course, but just the glimpse of Saturn’s rings was enough to make believers or skeptics of everyone. No one reacts indifferently to God’s wonders.