Maybe that feeling is a tiny glimpse into the ultimate truth: that everything is sacred.
Philo, the 1st-century Jewish philosopher from Alexandria, certainly thought so. He envisioned something truly breathtaking: the entire universe as the Temple of God. Not just a building, not just a city, but… everything.
Think about that for a second.
Heaven itself, according to Philo, is the Kodesh Hakodashim – the Holy of Holies, the innermost sanctuary – of all existence. The angels? They're the priests, forever in service. And the stars? The twinkling, distant stars are the offerings, placed in the pure Temple of Heaven to give light. (Philo, De Specialibus Legibus 1:66, De Opificio Mundi 55).
It's a powerful image, isn't it?
Now, this isn't quite the same as the idea – which we find in other traditions – of a celestial Temple mirroring the one in Jerusalem. That's a whole other layer of fascinating cosmology. But Philo’s vision... well, it feels even bigger.
Is he speaking literally? Is this a metaphor? Maybe it’s both.
Perhaps Philo is telling us that God doesn't just reside in a specific location, but permeates all of creation. Maybe he's suggesting that this world, right here, right now, is God's Temple.
The implications are staggering.
If the universe is God’s Temple, then every act, every moment, becomes potentially sacred. Every sunrise, every raindrop, every breath… a part of the divine service.
It certainly gives a new meaning to the phrase "hallowed ground," doesn't it?
What if we started to see the world this way? To treat every living thing, every corner of the earth, with the reverence we reserve for the most sacred spaces? What kind of world would we create then?
It’s a question worth pondering, as we gaze up at those starry "offerings" in the night sky.