"what does the multiverse tell you about God?"

Via "Cosmic Confusion: Talk of Multiverses and Big Errors in Astrophysics" by Calla Cofield

[Image description: Appears to be a bunch of water droplets on a pane of glass, each with dots of light reflected inside.]

A couple of hours ago, the twitter account for a podcast called The Liturgists posted this:

Want to be on the podcast? Click the link and answer the question: "What does the multiverse tell you about God?"

The tweet includes a link leading to a website where listeners can record themselves answering the question. Their audio submission might be included on the next podcast. I'd never done this before, so I decided to try it out. I sat down to write out my answer so I wouldn't get caught knowing what to say, and got more inspired than I expected to, and wrote this. So here's my response to the question "what does the multiverse tell you about God?" (Warning: I'm not remotely a scientist—that's what Science Mike is for—so this is probably based on an extremely flawed understanding of what the multiverse even is.)

The multiverse tells me about God’s endlessness, about his vastness,
about the human hopelessness to ever reach all of infinity;
and yet somehow in the Eucharist
—when we take part in the resurrection of the dying Jesus—
and in the birth of stars and suns
—when we take part in the resurrection of dying worlds—
we are able to reach all of infinity.

It tells me that our human efforts at control are ultimately meaningless,
our small conquests and victories at the expense of others
are pure nothingness, not even vapors in the cosmic wind,
that the cosmic wind our vapors contribute to
are snuffed out in the unknowable expanses between unknowable worlds;
and yet somehow in the Crucifixion
—when our systems of terror killed Christ—
our sins do taint the infinite.

The multiverse tells me that no matter what human inventions
we use to subjugate, categorize, demonize
—like race and money and gender roles and letter grades—
no matter how far our manifest destinies take us,
no matter how many cultures or countries or planets we colonize and bastardize and bomb,
our little kingdoms can only grow so much and touch so many.

The multiverse tells me that this God we worship
does not and cannot fit into the lie of logic,
that our Enlightenment is only a dim spark
—less than a dim spark, for it is truly nothing—
and yet somehow, in the Incarnation
—when God became human, resurrected as human, lives forever as human—
he stepped into the restrictions of our logic and said,
“Let there be light.”

The multiverse tells me that no matter how far we fly
the Creator has birthed too much to ever know,
there is always more of God to know,
there is always more to discover and to love,
there is always more to worship.

I guess the universe tells me all of this.
But the multiverse just, well, multiplies it.