The Uncertainty Principle

Learning to walk by the certainty of faith

Matthew 4:12-23 

Jesus left Nazareth and went to live in Capernaum by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali, that what had been said through Isaiah the prophet might be fulfilled: Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles, the people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death light has arisen. As he was walking by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon who is called Peter, and his brother Andrew, casting a net into the sea; they were fishermen. He said to them, "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. He walked along from there and saw two other brothers, James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John. They were in a boat, with their father Zebedee, mending their nets. He called them, and immediately they left their boat and their father and followed him.

          Once a month I have to travel to Little Rock because I serve on some boards that advise the bishop. It’s a long drive, and I try to kill time on the road by listening to Led Zeppelin and Mötley Crüe – I would enjoy these big hair bands more if I had some big hair myself. So recently, I’ve been listening to an audio book called A Brief History of Time by the brilliant physicist Stephen Hawking. Chapter Two of this book is called, “The Uncertainty Principle” and explains how we cannot know any sub-atomic particle with any great precision. Hawking writes: “The more accurately you try to measure the position of [a given] particle, the less accurately you can measure its speed, and vice versa” (Brief History, 72, emphasis mine). The reason for this uncertainty is that you use light waves to measure sub-atomic particles (called “quanta”) that “will disturb the particle and change its velocity in a way that cannot be predicted” (ibid, 72). In other words, when light hits a particle, it results in uncertainty either in its location or in its speed: the uncertainty principle.

          At that point I was ready to go back to AC/DC and listen to “Back in Black,” but just then Hawking surprisingly mentioned “God,” so this priest’s ears perked up. With a hint of cynicism, Hawking continued: “We could still imagine that there is a set of laws that determines events completely (meaning with certainty) for some supernatural being (meaning God) who could observe the present state of the universe without disturbing it. However, such models of the universe are not of much interest to us ordinary mortals” (ibid, 72). I exploded in the car: “Au contraire, mon frère!” (When I get excited, I speak French.) On the contrary, my dear brother, that is of the greatest importance to us ordinary mortals; we do want to know how God observes us from heaven, and we desperately want to know what would happen if his Light ever broke forth into our world. A light that would not disturb particles, but persons; a light not governed by the uncertainty principle but by the certainty principle of God’s truth and love. With all due respect to the eminent Oxford don, every ordinary mortal should be deeply and desperately interested in precisely that: how Light disturbs everything.

          In the gospel today, St. Matthew attempts to answer Hawking’s argument that uncertainty governs the universe, and Matthew offers instead the certainty of faith. Jesus travels to a remote area of Galilee called Zebulon and Naphtali, to fulfill an ancient prophesy about these two towns. Isaiah had written 700 years earlier (our first reading): “Land of Zebulon, and land of Naphtali…the people who sit in darkness has seen a great light.” Isaiah goes on: “On those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death light has arisen.” In other words, the eternal Father’s light shining brightly from heaven now walks with two legs on earth, disturbing darkness and death, namely, Jesus. That’s one way the Light disturbs everything.

          But Jesus does more than just fulfill old prophesies. Like the light of quantum mechanics moves every particle it touches, so Jesus light deeply moves every person he touches. He calls two sets of brothers – Andrew and Peter, James and John – to follow him. And how do they react? They “at once left their nets,” and “immediately followed him.” You see, there was no uncertainty principle at work here, but rather only the certainty of faith completely re-ordering their lives all the way down to the quantum level. Jesus’ Light disturbed the apostles’ lives so utterly, they left it all to follow Jesus.

          My friends, we live in a world of increasing uncertainty, not just at the level of sub-atomic particles, but in our everyday lives. Have you felt this uncertainty in your life? For instance, many people celebrated on Friday when the 45th president was sworn in, but at the same time others felt great uncertainty, especially immigrants and other minorities. Pope Francis expressed his uncertainty about the future of our planet if we don’t take better care of our “common home” in his encyclical Laudato Si. I don’t know about you, but I feel a twinge of uncertainty now whenever I’m in a crowd of people in a public place always looking over my shoulder and wondering if I’ll be interviewed on CNN tomorrow because of a bomb or some psychotic shooter. If you are a parent, don’t you look into your children’s eyes and feel some uncertainty about the world they will inherit tomorrow with the rise of virtual reality, robots, and artificial intelligence? Many people feel uncertainty in their marriages, at least the 60% who get divorced feel it. Babies in their mother’s womb feel great uncertainty about whether they will be born or be “terminated” in an abortion. Heck, maybe your only uncertainty is what I’m talking about in this homily! All this uncertainty makes us want to turn up Lynyrd Skynyrd and ZZ Top! But no matter how loud you turn up the music, that won’t make the uncertainty go away. So, what will?

          Only the in light of Jesus will we find the certainty of faith. He is “Light from Light” as we profess in the Creed, and he comes to disturb the darkness, and the doubt, and even to destroy death. Jesus offers us the same faith that he gave to Andrew and Peter, James and John, so that we, too, can drop all that causes us uncertainty in this life, and cling only to Christ. You know, to his credit, Hawking quoted the greatest physicist of the 20th century, Albert Einstein, even though Einstein disagreed with him. Hawking humbly wrote: “Einstein never accepted that the universe was governed by chance; his feelings were summed up in his famous statement, ‘God does not play dice [with the universe]’” (Brief History, 73). But the only way to be certain that God does not play dice is by faith, and not by cranking up Def Leppard.

          Praised be Jesus Christ!