Margaret Geller Makes an Astounding Discovery in the Universe

Some critics may deny the evidence that I presented in my book God’s Existence:  Truth or Fiction?  The Answer Revealed.  So, it’s importance to explain the underlying assumption of my scientific study about the existence of God to help readers to better understand my reasoning and why I presented the evidence the way as I did in my book. I explained that in my previous blog.

To repeat my point, God leaves tracks of his actions in various and numerous ways.  My book presents some of those tracks for us to see and understand.  We don’t need to conduct experiments in laboratories to discover whether or not God exists.  The evidence is perfectly clear, just as Jesus pointed out, the American Indians found in their daily lives, and Archaeologists determined from the artifacts they’ve discovered, as I explained out in my last blog.

Recently, I learned about a new piece of evidence that I believe also shows God’s “footprints.”  I saw this on Facebook.  So, I take the liberty to reprint it here for you to read from “Two Pennies.” It’s about the first person—who happens to be a woman—to make this scientific discovery.  No one else before her ever made this discovery.  Here I have taken the liberty to reprint it:

Source:  The Two Pennies

For centuries, scientists believed galaxies were randomly scattered across space.  Then she drew a map—and discovered the universe had been hiding a pattern 500 million light-years wide.

In 1986, Margaret Geller sat in front of a computer screen at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics, staring at data that didn’t make sense.  She and her colleague John Huchra had spent years measuring the distances to thousands of galaxies, plotting them in three dimensions.  The conventional wisdom was clear: galaxies should be distributed randomly throughout space, like stars scattered across the night sky.

But the pattern emerging on her screen wasn’t random at all.

Galaxies weren’t scattered.  They were organized.  They formed enormous walls and sheets, with vast empty voids between them—like cosmic soap bubbles stretching hundreds of millions of light-years across the universe.

Margaret stared at the screen and realized she was looking at something no human had ever seen before:  the architecture of the cosmos itself.

But to understand how revolutionary this moment was, you need to understand what came before.

Margaret Geller was born in 1947 in Ithaca, New York.  Her father was a crystallographer—a scientist who studied the structure of crystals at the atomic level.  She grew up watching him look for patterns in nature that no one else could see.

She learned early that the universe hides its secrets in structure.  That chaos, when examined closely enough, often reveals design.

She was brilliant at mathematics and physics—the kind of brilliant that made teachers tell her parents she should be a teacher or a nurse, not a scientist.  After all, this was the 1950s and 60s.  “Hard science” wasn’t for women.  Margaret didn’t care what “wasn’t for women.”  She studied physics at the University of California, Berkeley graduating in 1970.  Then she did something even more audacious:  she applied to Princeton’s physics Ph.D. program.

Princeton had only started admitting undergraduate women in 1969.  The physics department was still almost entirely male.  When Margaret arrived in 1970, she was one of the few women in the entire program.

Her male colleagues didn’t know what to make of her.  Some professors questioned whether women had the mathematical ability for advanced physics.  Some wondered aloud if she was just there to find a husband.  Margaret ignored them and focused on cosmology—the study of the universe’s structure and evolution.

In 1975, she earned her Ph.D.  She was 28 years old and determined to answer a question that had puzzled astronomers for decades:  How are galaxies distributed in space? 

At the time, astronomers could see galaxies through telescopes, but they only knew two dimensions—where galaxies appeared in the sky.  The third dimension—distance—was much harder to measure.

Distance in astronomy could see galaxies requires understanding Redshift.  When galaxies move away from us, their light stretches, shifting toward the red end of the spectrum.  By measuring this Redshift using the Doppler effect, astronomers can calculate how far away a galaxy is.  But measuring Redshift for thousands of galaxies was tedious, painstaking work. Each galaxy required hours of telescope time and careful analysis.

Most astronomers didn’t think it was worth the effort.  The assumption was that galaxies were randomly distributed, so why bother mapping them in detail?  Margaret thought differently.  She suspected there might be patterns no one had looked for because no one had the data to see them.

In the 1970s she joined forces with John Huchra at Harvard-Smithsonian.  Together, they began the CIA Redshift Survey—an ambitious project to measure the distances to thousands of galaxies and create the first true three-dimensional map of the universe.

It was unglamorous work.  Nights at the telescope.  Months analyzing data.  Years of patient measurement.  By 1986, they had enough data to create their first large-scale map.

And that’s when Margaret saw it.

On the computer screen, the galaxies weren’t randomly scattered.  They formed a pattern—a massive structure of galaxies arranged in sheets and filaments, with enormous voids of empty space between them.  It looked like a cosmic spiderweb.  Or the foam in a bubble bath.  Galaxies clustered along the surfaces, while vast regions contained almost nothing.

The largest structure they found was a wall of galaxies stretching more than 500 million light-years across—the largest known structure in the universe at that time.  They called it the “Great Wall.”

In 1989, Margaret and John published their findings.  The announcement made headlines worldwide.

The discovery was revolutionary.  It meant that gravity had organized the universe on scales far larger than anyone had imagined.  It meant that the universe had structure—deep, fundamental structure—that needed to be explained.

This article shows the slow, tedious, and painstaking work Margaret Geller made to ultimately achieve this amazing discovery.  But it also shows the discrimination she experienced by men who jumped to the old conclusion that fell by the wayside when she made this discovery.  God demonstrates his footprints in numerous ways.  This is just another way.