Yesterday afternoon, we were treated to a cloudless sky. While cloudless skies are prevalent in many places where I have lived, they are rare in the Pacific Northwest, where we get our share of rain. Gray skies are part of the winter around here. However, we have discovered that while we miss clear blue skies, our weather is not exclusively rain and clouds. We also get our share of beautiful sunny days and have had quite a few recently.

After dinner, I stepped out onto our driveway. I was taking care of a little household chore. Our curbside recycling and garbage pickup occurs every other Monday, and we are instructed to put our containers at the curb the evening before pickup. So, a few trips to the curb after supper on Sunday are part of our routine. Last night, however, was far from routine. Clear skies invited me to look up, and the timing and weather were cooperating to give me an exceptional night sky view. After a few seconds to orient myself, I could see three of the planets in alignment. The sight was breathtaking. I went inside to invite Susan to join me.

I have read about the opportunity to see a rare planetary alignment, but I hadn’t intentionally taken a look. I am only an occasional stargazer. I enjoy looking up, but I am easily distracted by airplanes and satellites passing overhead. I can identify the North Star and the dippers and usually find Orion. I remember being taught that the planets don’t flash and twinkle in the sky and can usually identify some closer ones. Venus is bright and easy to locate. Susan pointed out Mars, which has a reddish appearance. I think the third planet we were seeing was Jupiter. Uranus and Neptune would have appeared between Jupiter and Venus, but they are more distant and more challenging to make out without binoculars or a telescope. Saturn should have appeared somewhat closer to Venus. Still, there is a bit more light pollution to the south of our house caused by a nearby oil refinery, and that may have been combined with my lack of experience, which prevented me from identifying it.

I didn’t need to see six of the planets at once to be in awe as I gazed into the night sky, and I didn’t need a telescope or a guide to experience wonder as I contemplated our place within the solar system.

I’ve read enough to know that the science of identifying planets has shifted a bit over my lifetime. In elementary school, we memorized the names of the nine planets in our solar system: Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto. Later, scientists decided that Pluto isn’t a planet in the same sense as the others. Since 2006, it has been classified as a dwarf planet by astronomers. What is more, Pluto is not alone. Our solar system has other dwarf planets: Ceres, Haumea, Makemake, and Eris. Those bodies rotate as they travel through the solar system, which has smaller objects in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter and the Kuiper Belt, where Pluto is the brightest object.

What I know about planets and stars comes mostly from reading. I’ve read a fair amount about cosmology and am fascinated by astrophysicists' teaching about the universe's nature and history. Most physicists I have met quickly distinguish between their view of the universe and the origin stories of religion. Physical cosmology deals with actual observable phenomena, while religious creation stories contain large amounts of speculation about the physical universe while focusing on the relationship between God and humans. There are also metaphysical perspectives that focus on the hows and whys of the universe's origin while trying to refrain from specific religious doctrines.

My perspective holds a fascination with religious, physical, and metaphysical teachings. I have invested more time and energy in studying the creation stories of the Hebrew scriptures than other views of the nature of the universe. Still, I find no conflict between our people's stories and science's discoveries. Creation stories that emerged before the modern scientific method was developed have a different purpose than physics research. Although there are contemporary readers who try to interpret those stories as factual records of the origins of the universe, their function was far more one of identifying the origins of community. Some of those stories arose out of the experience of Babylonian exile. When exposed to the ideas and cosmology of their captors, leaders of Israel emphasized their own stories of origin in part to distinguish the exile community from that of the place where they had been transported as refugees. When the return from exile was granted, they brought those stories back to Jerusalem. They shared them with the faithful who had been allowed to remain—stories of exile and stories of those who remained eventually merged as the people were reunited. The result is that there are many stories of creation in the Bible, and there are differences between them. Their purpose is not to present a scientific study of the cosmos but rather to speak of the origins of a people.

Still, I share with learned astrophysicists the awe they experience when they observe the universe. That awe is related to the awe our ancient forebears experienced when gazing into the night sky and realizing that even though they were far from home, the stars and planets were still familiar. Sometimes, I experience awe and wonder without explaining how or why. It was that way as I looked at the night sky last evening.

Our place in the vastness of the universe can make us feel small. However, conscious minds are gazing out with self-awareness here on this tilted planet in a relatively average solar system on the edge of one of many galaxies. There may be others in other places of the universe, but human awareness is what we know. It is enough to inspire stories worth telling over and over again.