Some of the themes of this article will echo what I wrote
near the beginning of this series, writing about the virtue of awe and
wonder. It is a holy practice to learn
about creation. It is not a coincidence
that historically, much science was done under the auspices of the Christian
faith. For example, Gregor Mendel, who
is sometimes credited as the founder of modern genetics was an Augustinian
friar experimenting with pea plants at his monastery. Other priests and Christian leaders have been
naturalists, physicists and astronomers.
This is
not to deny the conflict that grew as the scientific world-view began to
question the assumptions of the biblical world-view; a conflict that was
expanded with Darwin in the 1800s and continues to this day; a conflict created
by the confusion of fact and truth (something I will write about next
week). Mendel’s science was “safe,” not
raising difficult questions of scriptural inerrancy. In spite of this conflict, it is important to
remember the history within Christianity of exploring and marveling at the
beauty of creation. The theologian
Richard Rohr describes the natural creation as “our first Bible.”
The
current age of easy access to information should encourage this kind of
study. Every time I turn on my computer,
there is a picture of a new place on the startup screen, sometimes natural;
sometimes made by human hands. Each one
fills me with curiosity, wondering at how unique rock formations happen over
millions of years; wondering at how human beings came to reside in inhospitable
places; wondering at the vast differences in the artwork of different cultures,
often shaped by the vast differences among many landscapes.
Echoing
my last entry, pursing such questions is holy work. Learning about how we are different is often
also learning about how we are the same.
Gaining more understanding of a different culture helps us grow in our
understanding of our own. It can also
remind us that we are strange and unique to someone else. The things we think are rude to discuss are
common topics in other places. The way
we in the northeastern U.S. rush around celebrating the importance of
productivity is not the standard for the world.
We can discover that there are other ways we can choose to be; that our
particular culture is not ordained by God.
Studying
life and studying lives is an ancient practice.
In the early church, there was a large emphasis on learning about the
various saints. The Reformation movement
deemphasized the role of saints. No
longer were Protestant Christians supposed to pray to saints for
intercession. Yet Martin Luther
encouraged learning about the saints as lives to emulate. He cited the story of Saint Christopher,
bearing the weight of Christ while walking across a difficult river as a story
to teach us about Christian life. (Note,
he did not think this was a literal story, but more a teaching fable). Although Lutherans did not venerate Mary,
Luther celebrated Mary, the mother of Jesus, as a model of obedience and
faithfulness to God’s call. As we pay
attention to lives, old and new, we might be inspired to take our own walk of
faith more intentionally.
I will close this writing with a quote from one of my favorite saints, Therese of Lisieux: "Miss no sing opportunity of making some small sacrifice, here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word; always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love." (You can read more about Therese here: Therese of Lisieux - Wikipedia) The act of studying and learning, as with all acts of discipleship, is about finding small ways to turn to God in love. In studying creation, we deepen our love for the Creator. In learning about other people and cultures, we deepen our love for the neighbor. This is holy work!
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