John Henry Newman, who was instrumental in the founding of the Catholic University of Ireland, also spoke of the seamless nature of all truth.

I
lay it down that all knowledge forms one whole, because its subject-matter is
one; for the universe in its length and breadth is so intimately knit together,
that we cannot separate off portion from portion, and operation from operation,
except by a mental abstraction; and then again, as to its Creator, though He of
course in His own Being is infinitely separate from it, and Theology has its
departments towards which human knowledge has no relations, yet He has so
implicated Himself with it, and taken it into His very bosom, by His presence
in it, His providence over it, His impressions upon it, and His influences
through it, that we cannot truly or fully contemplate it without in some main
aspects contemplating Him. (John Henry Newman, (1858), The Idea of a University,  p. 50-51)

A person who is a good and true Christian should realize that truth
belongs to his Lord, wherever it is found, gathering and acknowledging it even
in pagan literature, but rejecting superstitious vanities and deploring and
avoiding those who ‘though they knew God did not glorify him as God’ . . .*

Wherever truth is found, if it is indeed truth, it is known to God and is part of what we too can know if God allows us to know it. We can trust that truth is a good gift from his hand.

Of course truth must be separated from untruth, lies, and superstition. That is often the challenge. How do we know things? How do we know truth when we see it? Is what we think to be true, actually true or simply something we have always believed? These are difficult questions and we may always find some uncertainty in our answers. When it comes to understanding God’s revelation in the Bible and God’s revelation in the created world, we must read the two together and allow each to help interpret the other.# Science that reveals truth is God’s truth as much as God’s word in the Bible is truth. Augustine goes on to say that

In
matters that are so obscure and far beyond our vision, we find in Holy
Scripture passages which can be interpreted in very different ways without
prejudice to the faith we have received. In such cases, we should not rush in
headlong and so firmly take our stand on one side that, if further progress in
the search for truth justly undermines our position, we too fall with it. We
should not battle for our own interpretation but for the teaching of Holy
Scripture. We should not wish to conform the meaning of Holy Scripture to our
interpretation, but our interpretation to the meaning of Holy Scripture.

The science of our day, some of it being done by followers of Jesus, is revealing many things that we could not previously dream of knowing. Some of it is very challenging to our traditional interpretations of the Bible.^ Does this mean that the Bible is wrong? No, the Bible is still God’s word and is true. Could it be that our interpretation of the Bible is wrong? Truth and truth will agree. In some places, we may need to reinterpret our understanding of the Bible, but the truth of the Bible will indeed fit with truth wherever it is found. The challenge will be for theologians to understand God’s meaning in his word and find a way to understand the truth in light of truth found elsewhere. There is much work to do and some scholars such as Darrel Falk at the Biologos Forum are seeking to help with the conversations that need to happen. He has said

A few days ago I wrote about sacred spaces and challenged us to create our own. Now I would like to ask you to tell me about your sacred spaces. Where do you go to be creative? Where do you go to unplug? Some write songs or solve problems in the shower. For others their creative space is in the car while they drive. Still others find solice and sanctity on a mountain-top? Take the time to send me a comment in the space below.

“Creative Arts raise a person to another level of consciousness as if you could imagine life before words.” — Charlie Haden

What
are the sacred spaces of our time? At one time it was only God’s Tabernacle or
His Temple in Jerusalem that were considered holy. God used to rage against the
Israelite people for going to other sacred spaces. Back then, people saw every
high place or wooded grove as a potential sacred space to whatever god it might
be dedicated. God drew his people to worship him in appropriate places and in appropriate
ways. Eventually churches and cathedrals became the sacred spaces of choice. Oh
there was still the occasional holy moment celebrated on a mountain-top; but
everyone knew that the only real place to meet God was in a church building. So
people built churches and they proliferated throughout our cities. Municipal
planners left room for them in their community designs and people attended
them. Today it is a rare thing to see the construction of a new church
building.

Today,
it seems there are no sacred spaces left. All have become secular and stripped
of spiritual meaning. Even places that were once dedicated to God have become
community halls or condos with only a facade left to give an impression of past
glory. We have declared that nothing is holy. Annie Dillard says, “We doused the burning bush and cannot rekindle it.” [1]

We
wonder why we feel so scattered. We wonder if we will ever again feel together
and holistic. Our spaces are a constant barrage of email, internet, social
networking, twitter, mobile phones, satellite radios, iPods, and every other
imaginable distraction. Nothing is sacred.

“Despite the incredible power and potential of sacred spaces, they are quickly becoming extinct. We are depriving ourselves of every opportunity for disconnection. And our imaginations suffer the consequences.” Scott Belsky[2]

It
is time for a revolution. It is time to take back some sacred space. It is time
that we drew a circle around some spaces and declared them holy. Standing within these circles we will stare technology in the eye and, like Gandalf facing a
Balrog, declare, “Go back to the shadow. You cannot pass!”

Without sacred spaces we shall surely perish.
Without places of imagination free from interruption our culture will wither on
the vine. We must be proactive in creating sacred spaces for ourselves. When we
find ourselves in places of disconnection we must guard them jealously and use
them wisely. Unplug, disconnect, worship, let creativity flow,
and seize the space.

Walter Isaacson is a writer of biographies whose previous works include the life story of Henry Kissinger, Benjamin Franklin, and Albert Einstein. I find biographies to be interesting insights into public personalities and have read Isaacson’s Einstein: His Life and Universe. Recently, Isaacson completed what will likely be his biggest selling book, the authorised biography of Steve Jobs. The publisher is rushing the book to the market to capitalize on the peak in interest following Jobs’ death on October 5th. In a teaser to the book Isaacson has told of Jobs’ motivation for having his biography written.

“I wanted my kids to know me,” Isaacson quoted Jobs as saying in their final interview at Jobs’ home in Palo Alto, California. “I wasn’t always there for them and I wanted them to know why and to understand what I did.” *

Steve Jobs’ words don’t sound so much like regret but rather an explanation. He wants his kids to know him through this book. He wants them to have an explanation for why they did not know him and why he was not “there for them.” There is much we can learn from Steve Jobs. Even these words from his final interview are instructional. They can lead us to think about what we will leave behind when we pass from this life. They can lead us to ask questions about our own lives. “How well do people know me?” “Do I care whether or not people know me?” “Who are the people in my life for whom I want to ‘be there’?”

I will likely read this biography of one of the most interesting men of our time. And as I read it I will ponder the important questions of my own life.

*© 2011 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. http://www.guardian.co.uk/technology/2011/oct/07/steve-jobs-biography-official-release

When I grew up in Western Canada there was a weekly CBC television show called “Marketplace.” The theme song was sung by Stompin’ Tom Connors and the lyrics I most remember said,

It was only a snippet of a longer song that spoke of the difficulties of the working population who were trying to pay their bills, get a good deal, buy quality products, borrow more money, and generally get a fair shake. Stompin’ Tom was using his platform as a folk-singer to say some of the same things Dorothy Sayers said in a 1942 essay entitled “Why Work?”. She says,

A society in which consumption has to be artificially stimulated in order to keep production going is a society founded on trash and waste, and such a society is a house built upon sand.

Nearly seventy years later, I wonder if we have learned anything from Dorothy Sayers’  important essay. Indeed, have we learned anything from Connors’ folk song? Or are we simply “saving a lot of money spending money we don’t got?” As economies of the world plunge to new depths and we wonder how it will affect our country and our jobs, politicians encourage us to see things as “business as usual.” We continue to consume more than we can afford and individually and collectively go more and more in debt. We are told that it is just a temporary slowdown in the economy. “It will all get back to normal if we put our nation first. But the trouble with normal is it always gets worse.”* We spiral into more debt and consume more to stimulate our flat economy.
Sayers suggests,

Whatever we do, we shall be faced with grave difficulties. That cannot be disguised. But
it will make a great difference to the result if we are genuinely aiming at a real change in
economic thinking. . . . The habit of thinking about work as something one does to make money is so ingrained in us that we can scarcely imagine what a revolutionary change it would be to think about it instead in terms of the work done. To do so would mean taking the attitude of mind we reserve for our unpaid work – our hobbies, our leisure interests, the things we make and do for pleasure – and making that the standard of all our judgments about things and people. We should ask of an enterprise, not “will it pay?” but “is it good?”; of a man, not “what does he make?” but “what is his work worth?”; of goods, not “Can we induce people to buy them?” but “are they useful things well made?”; of employment, not “how much a week?” but “will it exercise my faculties to the utmost?” And shareholders in – let us say – brewing companies, would astonish the directorate by arising at shareholders’ meeting and demanding to know, not merely where the profits go or what dividends are to be paid, not even merely whether the workers’ wages are sufficient and the conditions of labor satisfactory, but loudly and with a proper sense of personal responsibility: “What goes into the beer?”

Sayers is reminding us that our jobs are about more than money; they are about producing a good product. We ought to “clamor to be engaged in work that was worth doing, and in which we could take pride.” Work is to be about making a difference in the world. I wonder if we might try that for a while.


*Bruce Cockburn, “The Trouble With Normal.”

I had a surreal experience tonight. I had just finished a day of work and I was waiting on Maureen as she was walking home from her job. I was sitting in our condo on the 14th floor of a 27 storey skyscraper watching the sun go down and the people bustling home from work. I turned on a previously recorded television show of Jim Cuddy performing his Set List in Studio One at Corus Quay in Toronto. He was singing Skyscraper Soul and the words flowed over my consciousness. It was like he was in the room with me describing the sights and feelings of my day. Oh yes, I’ve got a skyscraper soul and I’m scraping up against the sky!

Skyscraper Soul (words and music by Jim Cuddy)
© JimCuddy.com 2006 – 2011

Everyone knows it, try not to show it,
This city can bring you down
I’m a believer some days are hard, but
I couldn’t leave this town

I got a skyscraper soul

Like a flower that comes where the sun never goes

Skyscraper soul

Filling my heart where there once was a hole

Look out my window

Watching the sun go down

On the crowds below

I know the struggle,

Weaving through trouble

Life can be hard, I know

I got a skyscraper soul

There’s mud in my veins and there’s steel in my bones

Skyscraper soul

Building it all up from water and stones

Look through the market stalls

Over broken walls

To this hollowed ground

Looks are deceiving

There’s a heart beating

Here in this battered town

Cause I got a skyscraper soul

Like a flower that comes where the sun never goes

Skyscraper soul

Filling it all up with water and stones

I’ve got a skyscraper soul

There’s mud in my veins and there’s steel in my bones

Skyscraper soul

Brushing the rust off and losing control

http://www.jimcuddy.com/Music/Songography/default.aspx?songid=12cce866-fd61-4653-86d0-17f5e8d9c129

I was listening to some of Michael W. Smith’s music today and heard “Live and Learn” from the I 2 (Eye) album. The beginning of this song quotes the last stanza of the William Knox poem, “Mortality.” In an attempt to make the entire poem more accessible I present it to you today.

Mortality
(aka “Why Should the Spirit of Mortal Be Proud”)
(Written
by William Knox)

Oh,
why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

The
leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around, and together be laid;
And the young and the old, the low and the high,
Shall molder to dust, and together shall lie.

The
infant a mother attended and loved;
The mother that infant’s affection who proved;
The husband, that mother and infant who blessed;
Each, all, are away to their dwelling of rest.

The
maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
Shone beauty and pleasure – her triumphs are by;
And the memory of those who loved her and praised,
Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

The
hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

The
peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep,
The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

The
saint, who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

So
the multitude goes – like the flower or the weed
That withers away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes – even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told.

For
we are the same that our fathers have been;
We see the same sights that our fathers have seen;
We drink the same stream, we feel the same sun,
And run the same course that our fathers have run.

The
thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think;
From the death we are shrinking, our fathers would shrink;
To the life we are clinging, they also would cling –
But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.

They
loved – but the story we cannot unfold;
They scorned – but the heart of the haughty is cold;
They grieved – but no wail from their slumber will come;
They joyed – but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.

They
died – aye, they died – we things that are now,
That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
And make in their dwellings a transient abode,
Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.

Yea,
hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,
Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;
And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,
Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.

‘Tis
the wink of an eye – ’tis the draught of a breath –
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud
Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? 

(This is commonly referred to as Abraham
Lincoln’s favourite poem.)

For
a few years now I have developed a practise of walking in the dark. What I mean
by this is I like to go for walks at night in places that are as dark I can
find. Living in a large urban centre like Vancouver means that even when I go
for a walk at night there are still plenty of city lights. So in my quest for
darkness I find myself walking in places like beaches, parks, and the Iona Jetty
(one of the best places in Greater Vancouver to see the stars). When I lived in
Calgary, one of my favourite places I would go for a night walk was a retreat
centre near Calgary called King’s Fold. At night one could hike the river
valley with just the light of the stars to guide you.


Night
walks heighten my senses and allow me to listen better, smell more, and detect
things I might normally miss. One must overcome a sense of fear for we are
often taught to be afraid of the dark and there may in fact be some real danger.
The valley of the Ghost River at King’s Fold is home to predators such as bears
and cougars and so my ears were constantly tuned for the snap of a twig when I
walked this valley. Yet, such fear and heightened awareness can be a metaphor
for life.


The
life I live in Canada is really quite safe and secure. Most of the time I
organize my life in ways that protect me and minimize my exposure to danger or
the risk of loss. I have my keys and locks to keep out the “bad guy,”
“bogeyman,” and “terrorist.” I have my vitamins and
disinfectants to protect me from disease and bed-bugs. I have my life
insurance, RSPs, and stock investments to placate my fear of the financial
future. I am fortunate to have so much. Many in the world have none of these
things. They survive and thrive without all of these protections. Could I do as
well if I were to lose all of my security blankets?


Walking
in the dark reminds me that I am small and fragile in a big world of danger. It
reminds me to put my trust in the right places. It causes me to pray and trust
and love and hunger for something more. It reminds me that life is about risk;
it is about taking chances when every fibre of my body cries for comfort and
security. Where would I be if I had never taken a chance? Where would I be if I
had taken more chances?


Walking
in the dark reminds me that there are more sources of light than streetlights,
sunshine, and flashlights. There is inner light which is a reflection of light
that is far greater. There is a light in which we can walk that will bring
light to any dark place.

No longer will
you need the sun to shine by day, nor the moon to give its light by night, for
the Lord your God will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your
glory. – Isaiah 60:19 New Living
Translation (NLT)


This is the message
we heard from Jesus and now declare to you: God is light, and there is no
darkness in him at all. So we are lying if we say we have fellowship with God
but go on living in spiritual darkness; we are not practicing the truth. But if
we are living in the light, as God is in the light, then we have fellowship
with each other, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, cleanses us from all sin. – 1 John 1:5-7 New Living Translation
(NLT)