A Detailed Creation

I teach in a Christian school in which a view of God is woven into everything we teach.  Since I teach science, where we study creation, it only makes sense that this points students to more knowledge of the Creator.  To that end, on my midterm exam, I have a question in which I ask students to tell me something they have learned about God through their study of science.  Since their first semester was basic chemistry, the theme of their answers often focuses on atoms, elements, and the periodic table.

This year, like many others, there was a theme to their answers: how detailed creation is.  Now that they know that what we see externally is a result of what is happening internally, they understand that the tiniest of particles is important, which leads them to an understanding that God is involved in the small details.

While this has been a theme of the answers to this question for many years, it hit me differently this year.  I think it is because my art teacher friend and I have spent a lot of time this year talking about stone sculpture.  I love a lot of genres of art, but there is none that impresses me more than stone sculpture because there is no margin for error.  If an artist paints something that they don't like, they can paint over it.  A pencil drawing can be edited by blending and erasure.  If a sculpture makes a mistake, there is no fixing it; that sculpture just doesn't have a nose now.  My favorite artwork on planet Earth is Michaelangelo's The Pieta, a marble sculpture at the Vatican in which Mary is grieving her crucified Son.  There is much to love about it as an artwork. For one thing, it is overwhelming in size, almost seven feet tall and weighing over six thousand pounds.  

But when I talk to students about this work, I talk about the small parts of it.  Zoom in on the right knee of Jesus, and you find some astounding detail.  The little indentation just behind his knee is on your leg as well, it is the tendon, where the thigh muscle connects to the femur.  The same thing happens when you look at the ankle.  Not only can you see the Lateral Malleolus, the bone that protrudes from the side of the ankle, but you also see the veins on the top of the foot.  Others may feel differently than I do, but I find this much more impressive than a basic sculpture that is a crude outline of the human form without much attention to the details.

You may be thinking, "Okay, we get it, Beth, you are a nerd.  But what does this have to do with your students' answer to the question on their exam?"  Well, I am so glad you asked.  When I marvel at the details of The Pieta, I learn something about Michaelangelo.  That tendon isn't there by coincidence, and it is too specific to have been based only on observation.  This level of detail means Michaelangelo had an intimate knowledge of human anatomy.  According to the Getty website, he participated in dissections of human corpses and made extensive sketches of bones and muscles.  He studied how the underlying structure is affected by the movement of a limb (a tendon may be more visible when the hand is moved in a certain way), which give his sculptures authenticity.  Looking at the detail in the sculpture tells us what the sculptor cares about.  

In the same way, looking at the details of God's creation tells us what He cares about.  Electrons are so small that we don't even count their mass.  Yet, the itty bitty electron determines the behavior of the atom more than any other particle.  The outer electrons determine what type of bond an atom can make, which determines things like intermolecular force which influences things like boiling point.  Everything about water that makes it life-sustaining arises from the electron structure of hydrogen and oxygen.  So this tiny detail is critical to the world in which we live.  

What does this mean for education?  It means the details matter.  In our push to cover so much curriculum, it is tempting to remain at the surface level (and, don't get me wrong, sometimes that is appropriate).  But, at certain points, we should show our students the really important details of what we teach them.  That will reveal what matters, what we value, and be more inspiring to students to study our discipline further.  If we want to create lifelong learners, we need to show them the inspirational details.