I’m not a science guy. I’m a man very comfortable with miracles.
Some say the word “miracle” is overused. Not me. I don’t think it’s
used enough. Not nearly.
To me, sunrises and gravity are hardly surprising but miraculous nonetheless. By naming things, we too often believe we own it. It is ours now. Not God’s anymore. We’ve labeled gravity a law. We’ve named radio waves. We too casually classify God’s handiwork as science. But there are miracles all around us.
I know how children are made but that doesn’t make them less
miraculous. Acceptance of miracles is a willingness to look past the thing-ness
of everything and see God.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
This Post Is a Miracle
As are the 959 that precede it, apparently.
Matthew Archbold, who looks so much nicer than anyone I associate with Creative Minority Report, is a miracle man. By that he means, well, I'll let him explain it to you:
Just so we're all speaking the same language, miracle: An event that appears inexplicable by the laws of nature and so is held to be supernatural in origin or an act of God.
Look, I enjoy a good sunset, too, but sunsets are not inexplicable by the laws of nature. Sunsets are easily explained by the rotation of the earth. Gravity is not miraculous, nor are radio waves.
Mr. Archbold's argument is one that religion has been advancing at least since Galileo's time: it is bad to understand things. Science is evil because it takes the mystery, and the god, out of everyday life. By investigating and thereby understanding the world around us, you are removing god from lightning and earthquakes, reducing them to understandable physical forces.
Implicit in this argument is a sad little admission about God: once you explain god out of sunsets and gravity and radio waves, there isn't much place left for him, so I want to stick my head in sand and remain ignorant so as to preserve my faith in my invisible friend. The fact that science has improved my life is irrelevent to me as long as I get to keep pretending someone listens when I pray.
To those like Mr. Archbold, the loss of miracles is sad. To me, the sadness lies in those who reject the knowledge we replaced those miracles with. Ignorance is never something I will celebrate.