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“Because sometimes you need a biologist,
and sometimes you need a poet.
Sometimes you need a scientist,
and sometimes you need a song.”

“You, me, love, quarks, sex, chocolate, the speed of light— it’s all miraculous, and it always has been.”

“It’s one thing to stand there in a lab coat with a clipboard, recording data about lips. It’s another thing to be kissed.”
 
 
 
Did any of that get your attention?
 
I've just spent the morning reading a short book I downloaded from the Amazon Kindle bookstore: “What we talk about when we talk about God” by Rob Bell. You can do that sort of thing when you're retired; one of the reasons I enjoy my life out of the workforce.
 
I'm not usually intererested in books on this subject as they are mostly a big yawn. Neither do I often find myself glued to a book, unwilling to put it down (well, actually I was using an ipad, but you know what I mean). Rob Bell has a special gift. He can articulate spiritual stuff like no one else I remember. I kept saying things to myself like: “yep” and “ah hah” as he painted a picture using common life experiences of a God we might be aware of deep inside ourselves, but whom is rarely spoken of.
 
This is not your standard apologetic book arguing for the existence of God. No way. Not even close. For a start it's not even the slightest bit dogmatic (ok, maybe it's there but I didn't see it).
 
Bell doesn't pretend that he has all the answers. He begins from a place of doubt and acknowledges the power of science, the paradox of human beings, and the incongruity of the miraculous, to present a God I can accept. More than that, he presents a God I recognise.
 
He doesn't avoid or undermine science. He celebrates it, along with the wonder and uncertainty of existence. To paraphrase him, science is a powerful tool, but is no arbiter of reality. He points out that we are all 'people of faith', whether we are religious believers, atheists, believers in the supremacy of science, or in the supernatural. He does not attack atheists. He reminds them, gently, of what they have in common with 'believers':
 
“Sometimes people who believe in God are referred to as “people of faith.” Which isn’t the whole truth, because everybody has faith. To believe in God requires faith. To experience this world and its endless surprise and mystery and depth and then emphatically declare that is has no common source, it is not headed somewhere, and it ultimately has no meaning— that takes faith as well.”

Bell is also no usual defender of the status quo, and I kind of like that. I feel a deep resonance between my faith and his ideas:
 
“you can be very religious and invoke the name of God and be able to quote lots of verses and be well versed in complicated theological systems and yet not be a person who sees . It’s one thing to sing about God and recite quotes about God and invoke God’s name; it’s another be aware of the presence in every taste, touch, sound, and embrace.”

How good is that?
 
I have long been a bit of a rebel, uncomfortable with the pietism of a few church people. It's nice to come across a writer who expresses that better than I can.
 
“So when we talk about God, we’re talking about our brushes with spirit, our awareness of the reverence humming within us, our sense of the nearness and the farness, that which we know and that which is unknown, that which we can talk about and that which eludes the grasp of our words, that which is crystal- clear and that which is more mysterious than ever. And sometimes language helps, and sometimes language fails.”

Absolutely! He's talking about the God I have faith in. How come I never thought to say that myself?
Bell goes on to explain the essence of the Christian Gospel as clearly as anyone, and more so than most:
 
“. . as advanced and intelligent and educated as we are, there are some things about the human condition that have not changed in thousands of years. It’s very important that we are honest about this glaring reality. We have progressed so incredibly far, invented so many things, found an endless array of new ways to process and share and communicate information, and yet the human heart has remained significantly unchanged, in that it still possesses the tremendous capacity to produce extraordinary ignorance, evil, and destruction. We need help.”

“. . the counterintuitive power of gospel: When you come to the end of yourself, you are at that exact moment in the kind of place where you can fully experience the God who is for you.”

So, take it or leave it I guess. Believe that you are in control or understand intuitively, as I do, that you are not. Bell would argue that as long as people believe they are in control, God is inaccessible to them. Pretty harsh stuff, no? Probably not what many want to hear. I must confess I have been a slow learner on this issue, having learned what little I have learned after bitter experience.
 
I loved this:
“We’re all, in one way or another, addicts, aren’t we? Some are addicted to the praise of others, some to working all the time, some to winning, others to worrying, some to perfection, some to being right, strong, beautiful, thin . . . perhaps you are enslaved to your own self- sufficiency, or drugs or alcohol or sex or money or food. “

Sort of puts an interesting spin on things, no? Do you think of yourself as an addict? Or do you (unlike me) have it all under control?
 
And this:
“And so we come to the table exactly as we are, some days on top of the world, other days barely getting by. Some days we feel like a number, like a machine, like a mere cog in a machine, severed and separated from the depth of things, this day feeling like all the others. Other days we come feeling tuned in to the song, fully alive, hyperaware of the God who is all in all. The point of the experience isn’t to create special space where God is, over and against the rest of life where God isn’t. The power is in the striking ability of this experience to open our eyes all over again (and again and again) to the holiness and sacred nature of all of life, from family to friends to neighbors to money and breath and sex and work and play and food and wine.”

This is my life! This is how my life seems to me. I think Bell is on to a sublime truth here (and in so many other places in this book). The good and the bad; the sacred and the mundane; the wrong choices; the repeated disappointments with myself and the insight that tells me that nonetheless I continue to matter and that my life is not futile. This is how God is real to me. Maybe my life is not the same as yours. So be it.
 
I recommend this book warmly to you, whether or not you are call yourself a 'believer'. I found his writing honest, generous, challenging, humble and insightful. I hope you too will find it full of 'ah hah' moments.
It would possibly not be a surprise to learn that not everyone is happy about his work.
 
A quick glance through the comments on the Kindle page shows that Rob Bell is not orthodox enough for some and far too 'loose' and liberal for others. For this particular conservative Christian though, who is also a bit of a rebel, and a bit of a mystic, I was reminded that I am not alone in the way I experience God.
 
I thank him for that.
__________________________
 
 
“The peace we are offered is not a peace that is free from tragedy, illness, bankruptcy, divorce, depression, or heartache. It is peace rooted in the trust that the life Jesus gives us is deeper, wider, stronger, and more enduring than whatever our current circumstances are, because all we see is not all there is and the last word about us and our struggle has not yet been spoken. There is great mystery in these realities, the one in which we are strong when we are weak, the one in which we come to the end of ourselves, only to discover that God has been there the whole time, the God who is for us.”
 
 
 
 
 

Why Grandma’s wedding ring matters.

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(From Google Images)

Sometimes I read stuff that flips a little switch inside me. Usually I am old enough and wise enough to shrug and leave it alone. Not always though. This is one of those times. I have risen to the bait and chomped on the hook. Read on.

It was a weekend newspaper’s breathless account of a research project from someplace important. The report claimed it had found that scientists in the ‘hard’ sciences were more intelligent than everybody else, just as those who rejected religious faith were more intelligent than those who did not.
Well, amen brother! Reboot the laptops and pop the champagne corks. Science in action! It seems they were right all along! Now they know for sure that boffins who reject emotions, dismiss intuition, snort at things sentimental and mystical, and focus on facts, have all the answers that matter! It’s settled. They said so.

Give me a break!

I’m not going to get into a critique of science because it would bore you, and anyway, science is spectacularly and rightly successful in its own way. Our world would be unrecognisable without it. There’s no way I would want to do without medicine, engineering, the internet, or weather forecasting (oh. . . . ok . . maybe meteorology is a bit of overreach). It’s just that people occasionally can get carried away like in the above report, and make claims about which science can have nothing sensible to say.

Science is quite properly interested in things it can measure. What it can’t measure is (or should be) of no interest to it. To do science we need to assume that the only things that are real are those things we can measure with our senses. Fair enough and beyond debate I would hope. What remains debatable for some is whether science can say sensible things about what it can’t measure: Things like the meaning of existence, the value of a person, human spirituality, hope, love, and so on.

Take Grandma’s wedding ring for example. Science can quite properly make pronouncements about its shape, mass and composition. As far as I know there is no instrument that can measure its value and significance to me. Does this mean its value and significance to me are unscientific. Yep! Does this mean its value and significance to me are not real?

What do you think?

Get my drift?

When we reduce reality to those things we can measure scientifically a lot of stuff falls through the sieve. Important stuff. Stuff that is the fabric of life. Stuff that gives life its meaning and significance.

While I turn to science for answers about all sorts of things does that mean I would turn to it for all things? I wouldn’t consult it about the significance of my Grandma’s wedding ring any more than I would depend on it to explain to me why I matter in the scheme of things. It just doesn’t recognise these as valid questions you see.
Intellect and intelligence are indeed wonderful gifts. Used without empathy, care and love they lose their shine and become barriers to understanding and to living a full life. In this way, self important nerds who undertake scientific research without being aware of the limitations of their discipline miss the wood for the trees and simply confirm their own prejudices.

There are certainly circumstances I can see myself putting my life on the line for people I love, for my religious faith, and for things that give my life its meaning. None of those things has anything whatsoever to do with science or a scientific world view, as useful and as fascinating as they may be.

So to those intrepid researchers who set out to confirm what they already believed; go for it fellas! Put your faith in psychometric tests; in stuff you can measure. Discount and disparage the importance of stuff you can’t measure. Maybe scientists in the ‘hard’ sciences and also unbelievers do better on psychometric tests than everybody else. Who knows, maybe it means something.

I’m just not sure that it means what you think it means.

(Just for the record, I have a degree in Physics. I find science fascinating, however I worship elsewhere.)

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