On Thursday I took the children to our weekly public swim. Jonathan was out of town at the ARP Synod meetings, so I was flying solo, meaning I was required to field all of the questions coming from the three motor mouthed fruit of my womb without the option to call in a pinch hitter. In the midst of this, the Mackerdoodle asked me what a Black Hole was. I answered that it was a very, very, very heavy place in space that sucked everything near it toward itself. She then said to me:
“So it sucks everything into itself? So there could be a whole universe inside a black hole?” I was startled and answered, “Um. Yes sweetie. Actually scientists who study space are wondering exactly that.”
She didn’t stop there, though. She followed it up with, “But all of that stuff that gets squished down into the black hole. I mean it can’t just disappear into nothing. It has to go somewhere. Could a black hole suck stuff in and send it somewhere else?” My brain was beginning to be distracted by the implications of this conversation, but I continued to affirm her. “Well, some scientists wonder exactly that. No one has been able to study it closely enough.”
“What if there used to be a huge black hole and then it exploded, and everything in our universe came out of it!” She asked, excited at the possibility.
“Well, what do we know about how the universe was formed?” I asked. Praying for the right answer, and in answer to that prayer, her answer came quickly.
“Oh Right. God spoke and it was made. No black holes in Genesis.”
She was appeased, but I was terrified. My six year old had, from a very elementary explanation of black holes managed to hypothesize the same types of cosmological scenarios that doctoral candidates are considering for dissertation work.
I am clearly ill equipped to be her primary educator.