There once was a scientist who during his research, having stumbled upon a fortuitous discovery, managed to invent a time machine. But this time machine was no ordinary time machine (if a time machine could be called ordinary). Instead of allowing one to travel through the fabric of actual history, it allowed its recipient to traverse, as the Philosopher would say, all possible worlds.
On the morning of the invention’s completion, the man sat pondering his next move. What possible world would he explore? His thoughts turned to God and all the reasons he did not believe in Him. “By far, the reason I do not believe is that after centuries of doing Science, we have yet to find in this world any shred of evidence for a supernatural agent,” he said contentedly. And then he knew what he would do. He calibrated his new machine to a possible world in which evidence for a supernatural agent would be found.
Arguably, there was more than one such possible world. In the first world, he found himself in a room full of scientists, who appeared to be arguing among themselves. They were taking turns peering through a telescope of sorts, and after each individual did, a noticeable reaction would come upon his or her face, and more dialogue would ensue.
After some time, the scientist gathered what the source of the commotion was all about. The scientists in the room had discovered, in one location of the galaxy, a large eyeball staring right back at them. Some said this clearly was evidence of God; others said it was not. But even the doubter had to admit: Finding an eyeball in the middle of space was indeed an odd thing.
News reports of this went all over the world. Had humanity finally found undeniable evidence for God? After all, what was more undeniable than His eyeball? And what would be next? Would mankind find his mouth in another part of the universe, or his is hand and leg? And if this were undeniable proof, what would that mean for mankind? For every individual?
The scientific community’s best minds were put on the task of answering once and for all what this all meant, while the world waited in anticipation.
Finally, a press conference was held, and broadcast to all corners of the world. And the spokesman for science, a somewhat nerdy but amiable gentleman with a pleasant demeanor, explained in calm reassuring tones that citizens of the world had nothing to fear. That this phenomenon, though somewhat odd, was really like any other phenomenon in the universe. And had we seen a sunset, or the birth of a child, or even love, for the first time, it would seem no less remarkable or strange. And that science, a discipline that determines the natural causes of all things, would not fail to get down to the bottom of this, whether now or in the distant future. Of this he was sure.
Above all, the spokesman added, adjusting his horn-rimmed glasses, it certainly did not suggest something divine. That scientifically speaking, God the Creator, if there were such a thing, would not appear as part of his own creation, any more than a wood-worker would be found in the wood, or a computer programmer in the program. No, of this we can all be certain: He would be compelled, by His very nature, to reveal Himself in other ways: Through his own Creation, in the world around us and to our very thoughts, according to the way He had uniquely made us to relate to Him. And perhaps most effectively, by becoming one of us.