“There are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on earth’s beaches,” wrote the famed astronomer Carl Sagan. And reading his words, we see that strange pairing of sand and stars, commonly found in Scripture as well. Why are these two seemingly disparate objects so often joined together in the minds of men? I’m convinced it’s because our Creator formed these two facets of earth and sky to bear a silent yet harmonious testimony to some very important attributes of our God. In other words, we bind them on earth because He has bound them in heaven, and every ear has heard the proclamation He intended them to speak. Let’s remind ourselves now of what it is these two are saying.
Nothing on the face of all the earth sits lower than sand, being found in the very deepest trenches of the oceans. Conversely, nothing is higher than stars, in that they’re the farthest things our telescopes have found above our heads. And yet for all this separation, they are connected in our minds. Why? The obvious answer is that both of them represent innumerable quantities that humans cannot count. They are facts and mysteries all at once. We know that tan, homogeneous strip beside the ocean is actually made up of tiny granules because we so often find them in our food and cars during a day at the beach. We also know there must be some finite number of stars in all the galaxies. But we recognize that neither one of these could actually be numbered by our species. Mathematicians have come up with an approximate number of between five to ten sextillion grains of sand on all the beaches of the earth. (That’s twenty-one zeros if you’re counting at home). And the current estimate of stars in the universe is an even greater number with no less than twenty-four zeros. Yet Scripture tells us that our God “counts the number of the stars” and even “calls them all by name.” (Ps. 147:4) Deep inside, we also knew this too. We knew it because we know that every quantity must have a number and that someone must know what it is, even if we do not.
And we’ve had plenty of time to think about this, as both sand and stars have always been around. This is because they both possess a strength we rarely recognize. Have you ever wondered why all our shores are sandy? It’s because these humble and gritty little grains are extremely sturdy. We may go to the beach for relaxation, but that dividing line between earth and water is a vicious battleground. The constant battering of the waves and the unrelenting harshness of the sun on that barren and unshaded stretch of land leaves little else when lesser soils have been washed and baked away. And similarly, the word starlight might conjure thoughts of lullabies with velvety skies, dotted with the dusty pin-pricks of their soft and gentle glow. Stars cast no shadow and burn no skin. Or do they? How often we forget the scalding sand that burns our feet receives its fever from our nearest star, the Sun. Indeed, we only think of them as gentle because of the healthy distance that exists between us. No, both sand and stars are mighty and enduring testifiers.
Because God made them this way, He knew He could beckon Abraham to look up at the stars, knowing all his faithful offspring would be able to look up at them too. As the late singer/songwriter Rich Mullins sang, “Sometimes I think of Abraham, how one star he saw had been lit for me.” We too can look up at the heavens, remembering He knows our name as well and has placed us in the thronging number of His people long before the foundations of the world were laid. It might seem difficult to reconcile that mighty host with the startling words our Savior spoke, that “many are called, but few are chosen.” (Matt. 22:14) But we must remember that the One who spoke those words is the Eternal One for whom no number can actually seem that large.
And this, I think, is the point of sand and stars – at least in how the pair is used in Scripture – to remind us of His infinite and intricate knowledge and power. While we feel so small and insignificant beneath the sprawling field of stars at night, He has named and numbered each one. And while we wonder how God’s kingdom will endure the incessant and wicked onslaught of the world, He sees a “great multitude which no man can number” (Rev. 7:9) gathered around the throne, triumphant, and as tenacious as the sand that’s left when all the waves have been exhausted. Can you hear the echo of that promise made to Abraham so long ago, “Blessing I will bless you, and multiplying I will multiply your descendants as the stars of the heaven and as the sand which is on the seashore…”? (Gen. 22:17) May we receive the message these two faithful witnesses bring us this day and be encouraged by the staggering hope they’re meant to supply.
