Hope everyone’s had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I could offer a variety of excuses as to why I’ve been absent from the blogosphere as of late, but not one would suffice for my not doing what I said I would do. I haven’t been posting twice a week, and that is wrong of me. Life is busy and messy, but even that doesn’t warrant my not keeping my word. I do apologize.
If you are willing to move forward with me in our attempts to both contemplate life and make sense of, well, mankind, I would like to speak with you about something I’ve read for…you guessed it: theology. It’s not too heavy a subject today though, so stick with me and maybe we’ll learn to see things in a slightly simpler manner.
Let’s get cracking. So, to give a frame of reference for what I’ll be talking about, I should tell you that it is a shame how the modern world–specifically American culture–is so bent on stripping life of its mysteries. We have become so focused on finding out why the sky is blue that we neglect to notice it’s beauty. TV programs like How It’s Made concern themselves with explaining away how things have become as they are, and our desire to know has overwhelmed the importance of experience.
This is not to say that we should choose to ignore important issues. Ignorance is not bliss, but there is something to be said about appreciating the impossibility of understanding everything.
In Can Man Live Without God?, Ravi Zacharias’ argues for the childhood sense of wonderment that the modern world seems to have lost. The book is an apologetic for the Christian Faith against western atheism, and offers a logical, aesthetic, and relational defense of Christianity. Even so, Zacharias notes the importance of stepping away from our tendency to prove and know everything about all there is to know.
There is something precious and pure in appreciating that the seasons change, that the sea does not envelop the shore. It’s okay to ask questions, in fact I would encourage it. But if you don’t find the answer you’re searching for, don’t be so eager to deny the subject its significance. Rather, try to appreciate its intrigue.
Zacharias uses the image of a child staring in awe at his balloon that floats up to the ceiling, waiting to be pulled back down. The child is so fascinated by the balloon, that he reaches for and releases the balloon countless times with much excitement. The author says that God says to the seasons “again!” and to the sun “again!” Our Creator has created this world for us to admire so that it would augment our admiration for Him.
It’s okay to delight in that creation, for we are God’s creation, and He delights in us. Enjoy the intricacies of this life without always demanding an answer as to why they are that way.
You could walk onto your front lawn this winter and say that you see “atmospheric water vapor frozen into ice crystals and falling in lightwhite flakes or lying on the ground as a white layer,”* but isn’t it a little more magical to catch it on your tongue and call it “snow?”
May all be well.
*Definition from Dictionary on Mac computers