"Is life just a process that got started by some sort of chemical accident and that will keep on going until some damned fool comes along with a weapon that can destroy it forever? Or is it something more than that?
To be honest, one has to admit that much of the immediate evidence points to the probability of the former. And by and large, of course, that is where much of the immediate evidence always points. Even in periods of comparative security and peace, the hard facts of death on the one hand and of tragic mischance on the other quite powerfully suggest that at the end of life, as at its beginning, there is nothing but darkness--no creator, no creating word or spirit moving over the face of the waters.
And yet: 'In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth'...And God said, 'Let there be light'. . .There is always the poet, the lunatic, the lover; there is always the religious man who is a queer mixture of the three, all of them making their counterclaims in a language and with a passion that not even the most skeptical among us are quite invulnerable to. And their strange, unsettling voices speaking to us from the inside and saying, 'yes, yes, but maybe after all, in the beginning and at the end there is...God, whoever he is, whereever he is.'
Perhaps the only thing that anyone can be absolutely sure of is that he will never be able to prove it either way---with objective, verifiable proof. We can know that in the beginning there was God and not just some cosmic upheaval that brought light out of darkness only when we have experienced Him doing the same thing in our lives, our world---bringing light out of our darkness.
To put it another way, unless there is some very real sense in which the Spirit of God moves over the dark and chaotic waters of this age, these deeps of yours and mine; unless God speaks His light and life-giving word to me, then I do not really care much one way or the other whether He set the whole show spinning x billions of years ago. Unless I have some real experience of it myself, then even if someone could somehow prove to me objectively and verifiably that it all happened just as Genesis declares, I would be tempted to answer him with the two most devastating words in the English language: so what?"

-----Frederick Buechner, excerpt from the essay, "In the Beginning" taken from the book "The Magnificent Defeat"

Let the debates begin. Copy this link to a new window and watch. I want feedback people.

http://www.sharkeater.com/pentagon.swf

Two new movies to anticipate:

Huckabee

and

Life Aquatic

MEANING

--When I die, I will see the lining of the world.
The other side, beyond bird, mountain, sunset.
The true meaning, ready to be decoded.
What never added up will add up,
What was incomprehensible will be comprehended.

--And if there is no lining to the world?
If a thrush on a branch is not a sign,
But just a thrush on the branch? If night and day
Make no sense following each other?
And on this earth there is nothing except this earth?

--Even if that is so, there will remain
A word wakened by lips that perish,
A tireless messenger who runs and runs
Through interstellar fields, through the revolving galaxies,
And calls out, protests, screams.

-----Czeslaw Milosz

One of my favorite poets, Czeslaw Milosz, died yesterday at 93. He was a Polish Nobel Laureate, and professor at UC Berkeley. My friend Brent and I used to send his poems back and forth to one another in college. Sometimes ending a letter with a poem in longhand, other times merely sending a poem via email. He was for us an honest voice in a sea of misdirection. He had an abiding faith in God, but often questioned God's goodness and control, which seemed to Brent and I to smack of the reality that we were experiencing at the time. He also had a great sense of the irony of things but still maintained a healthy amount of wonder. He was Thoreau, except he'd seen dead bodies floating in the river that flowed near his boyhood home.

I guess I could say a lot of things about what he meant to me, but mostly I love him for his language. Even translated into English (thank you Robert Hass) his prose has a fine tuned athleticism and honesty that's so good it makes you want to cry. He was your favorite Grandpa parroting T.S. Eliot. He was a master, and I will miss his work.

This article parallels my life pretty closely.. . .frighteningly close. . ..in a good way.

Relevant

"For I am aware what ability is requisite to persuade the proud how great is the virtue of humility, which raises us, not by a quite human arrogance, but by a divine grace, above all earthly dignities that totter on this shifting scene. For the king and founder of this city of which we speak, has in Scripture uttered to His people a dictum of the divine law in these words: 'God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble.' But this, which is God's perogative, the inflated ambition of a proud spirit also affects, and dearly loves that this be numbered among its attributes, to 'show pity to the humbled soul, and crush the sons of pride.' And therefore, as the plan of this work we have undertaken requires, and as occasion offers, we must speak also of the earthly city, which though it be mistress to the nations, is itself ruled by its lust of rule."

-----Augustine, "City of God"

"When I first became a Christian, about fourteen years ago, I thought that I could do it on my own, by retiring to my rooms and reading theology, and I wouldn't go to the churches and Gospel Halls...I disliked very much their hymns, which I considered to be fifth-rate poems set to sixth-rate music. But as I went on I saw the great merit of it. I came up against different people of quite different outlooks and different education, and then gradually my conceit just began peeling off. I realized that the hymns (which were just sixth-rate music) were, nevertheless, being sung with devotion and benefit by an old saint in elastic-side boots in the opposite pew, and then you realize that you aren't fit to clean those boots. It gets you out of your solitary conceit."

-----C.S. Lewis, "God in the Dock"

"Is there a single person on whom I can press belief?
No Sir.
All I can do is say, 'Here's how it went. Here's what I saw.'
I've been there and I'm going back.
Make of it what you will."

"Fair is whatever God wants to do."

"One thing I was wasn't waiting for was a miracle. I don't like to admit it. Shouldn't that be the last thing you release: the hope that the Lord God, touched in His heart by your particular impasse among all others, will reach down and do that work that none can accomplish--straighten the twist, clear the oozing sore, open the lungs? Who knew better than I that such holy stuff occurs? Who had more reason to hope? And yet regarding my own wasted passages it seemed a prospect I could no longer admit."

"You can embark on new and steeper versions of your old sins, you know, and cry tears while doing it that are genuine."

"I suppose that moment had been gaining on us, secretly, like a new piece of music played while you sleep. One day you hear it---a strange song, yet one you know by heart."

"For heartening sights nothing beats a well-packed picnic basket with a clasped lid. One so full it creaks. One carried by a lady you would walk on tacks for."

"It is one thing to be sick of your own infirmities and another to understand that the people you love most are sick of them as well."

"It sure is one thing to say you're at war with this whole world and stick your chest out believing it, but when the world shows up with its crushing numbers and its predatory knowledge, it is another thing completely."

"Good advice is a wise man's friend, of course; but sometimes it just flies on past, and all you can do is wave."

"Once traveling, it's remarkable how quickly faith erodes. It starts to look like something else--ignorance, for example. Same thing happened to the Israelites. Sure it's weak, but sometimes you'd rather just have a map."

-----Leif Enger, excerpts from "Peace Like a River"

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention . ..Sarah took us to the coolest pub in America!!! McSorely's opened in 1854, and it still has its original bar intact. I think some of the wait staff is original too, but don't let them know I said that! When you walk in they ask you in a thick brogue, "would you like light or dark?" When they come back they bring each person at the table two half-pints of beer that's so good it will make you an alcoholic. Then they serve you great Irish meals like Corned Beef Hash (which is what I got) and shepherd's pie. The atmosphere is really old world. We had a great time talking and drinking way too many beers. The icing on the cake was the men's bathroom that had clear glass in its door so everyone could see what you were doing as you went about your business. For example, while relieving myself I was able to look over my shoulder and wave to Sarah and Dirk while they were at table. Too much. Good times, good times.

Saw the movie Garden State tonight with my friends Sarah and Dirk here in NYC. Great movie. Really well done, concise and moving. Go see it. I was expecting it to be good, and it didn't disappoint.