creation – Page 2 – sethlewis.ie

Afternoon (a poem)

At first all I feel is
The stillness and peace—
The silence of grass and
The patience of trees

Then slowly my senses
Begin to attune
To the business of nature
This warm afternoon

The birds chatter on
With their intricate songs
And there must be a meaning
To what I am hearing
While bees move with vigour
From flower to flower
A butterfly, also—
Though his schedule’s lighter
And now I see flies
And some midges float by
And an ant—and the action
Is filling my eyes!
And though it is quiet
Compared to my screens
And though it is peaceful
There’s work for the trees
As they silently grow
And the ivy and gorse
And the grass-eating horse
For the peace of this earth
Isn’t lazy or languid
It’s busy and blessed
And yet somehow,
At rest

What The Mysteries Of The Universe Teach Us About God

Every so often I run across a news article about new discoveries that could reshape our understanding of the universe, or how some scientists are proposing new ways of thinking about the questions that continue to confound our best efforts of explanation. As our knowledge grows and our scientific theories continually shift in response, it’s obvious that our experts are still out of their depth in the mysteries of creation. It often seems that the more we find out about the universe, the more questions we end up having about it. For all we’ve discovered, we still don’t know some of the fundamental basics about how it works. Yes, we have theories like dark matter to explain anomalies we don’t understand, but we’ve never observed dark matter and we may very well be wrong about it. We theorise about black holes, and postulate about the meaning of ripples in the space-time continuum. At the heart of the physical universe that supports our lives, there are mysteries that still boggle our minds. We know this, and accept it, even as we work to understand more. But while people have learned to live with this tension in our knowledge of the fundamental realities of the universe, they often reject the exact same dynamic when it comes to the One who created the universe. If you think about this, it doesn’t make sense.

Why should we expect the Creator to be easier to understand than his creation? Wouldn’t we rather expect him to be even deeper, even broader and more expansive than anything he made? Wouldn’t he, of all things, be the most mind-blowing reality of all?

The Language of Rivers and Stars

While the children were off school this Easter our family took a trip to explore Mizen Head, the southernmost tip of Ireland. It’s a remote peninsula where the rocky, wild terrain is dotted with cottages of white or pale yellow and the land is a patchwork of squares and rectangles divided by low stone walls. Clusters of sheep and cows surround tiny villages with steeples in the middle and strings of houses and pubs and shops that might be out of eggs if you get there too late. At the southern point where the land runs out there’s an old signal station that’s become a tourist attraction, reached by a footbridge that stretches between impassable sea cliffs. When we walked across and looked down we saw three seals far below us, relaxing in a rocky inlet surrounded by towering, jagged rocks while the seagulls soared above our heads. In the far distance, we could just make out the shape of Fastnet Rock, a tiny island of stone where people managed—somehow—to build a lighthouse to warn those at sea of the ship-shattering dangers around them. At our feet the just-blooming sea-pinks waved in the breeze and I wondered again how these flowers manage—and even seem to prefer—to grow in places where there is so little soil and so much violent wind from the ever-turbulent ocean.

A City Whose Builder And Architect Is God

Have you ever noticed that illustrations of heaven tend to lean heavily on Greek architecture? The pillars and spires might be brighter, and the streets paved with gold, but the forms and styles still look familiar. It makes sense—the ancient Greek temples and forums were gorgeous, a true high point of human ingenuity and creativity. But these styles are human conceptions, whereas Hebrews 11:10 tells us that heaven is a city “whose architect and builder is God.”

Have you ever stopped to consider what it looks like when God himself designs and builds a city?

God Doesn’t Work For Me

“I’m glad you found something that works for you.”

He said it kindly, genuinely happy for me to have found meaning and purpose in my beliefs about God. I said, “Whether or not my beliefs work for me is not the point. I just want to believe what’s true, and live accordingly. I want to know what God is really like—not what I want him to be. My opinion about you doesn’t determine who you really are, and my opinion about God certainly doesn’t change who he is.” God is himself. He is not obligated to work for me—as if my own little self were the centre of all things—he is the centre, and the reason I work at all is because of him. So I’d much rather live in the light of reality, even if it makes me squint, than live in the shadows of my own comfortable delusions.

Doodles On A Masterpiece

As I pulled the car into a spot at the edge of the parking garage I saw the sky shine bright blue between the rough block wall and the concrete deck above me. Further down the wall on the right I noticed a tree branch leaning in—green leaves detailed against the grey expanse. Moments before I had been driving under the open sky with living things growing all around, the hills in front and the sea behind me. Now, I was enclosed in a concrete case of re-formed rock, where every earthly material was repurposed beyond recognition. Those materials must have come from nature originally—they had to—but the ways we work with nature are often a stark contrast to the ways nature itself works.

A Personal Update (With A Book Update, Too)

I woke up the other day thinking about the list of normal things I was going to do that day, which is not unusual. But it struck me that I’ve been waking up like that for years and years, and the list of normal things I’ve thought about has changed dramatically. For example, recently I’ve been taking our oldest child out to practice driving. This is normal now, but it wasn’t a year ago, and it’s a sign that our family is entering another new and different kind of normal. Next year our youngest will join her brothers in secondary school and our normal will change again.

The Maker (a poem)

A long time ago the prophet Jeremiah said, “Ah, Sovereign Lord, you have made the heavens and the earth by your great power and outstretched arm. Nothing is too hard for you.” I’m not a prophet, but today I have a poem for you on the same theme:

The Maker

He stretched out the heavens
And lit up the stars
He flung out the Milky Way’s
Spiralling arms
And will we imagine
His own arms are weak?
Or fear there’s an enemy
He can’t defeat?
The Maker of rocks is
More firm and secure
Than Everest’s foundations
More perfectly pure
Than water in Eden
More faithful and sure
Than sunrise and twilight
And he will endure
Past all of the ancient
Immovable hills
The hills he abundantly
Graciously fills
With life—in all of its
Wild variety
Antlers and feathers
And berries and trees—
And will we belittle
The Maker of these?
Or think the inventor
Of eyes doesn’t see?
Or somehow,
Ridiculously,
Disbelieve
That what he has promised
Is what he’ll achieve

All Of It, All At Once

There was still an hour before I had to be at my first meeting for the day. The morning was beautiful, promising to be one of the nicest days of the year. I had to go outside. I didn’t know the area, but my phone told me there was a park in a nearby town I’d never been to. A few minutes later, I pulled in next to the jogger and dog-walker sedans—the family cars hadn’t arrived yet. The park was extensive. It was build around a lake, with ancient trees and well-maintained lawns, meandering paths, benches, swans, and the dawn chorus echoing in stereo surround-sound all around me.

Transcendence, Inc

My children and I were heading home after a swim, when a work van caught my eye. It had “Transcendence, Inc” written across its side, but honestly, it didn’t look very transcendent. It was parked on the footpath between the hotel and the road, just like any regular old non-transcendent work van would be. A closer look at the smaller print confirmed that “Transcendence, Inc” was the name of a company offering high-end decorating and furnishing services.

That’s a clever name for that kind of business. And perhaps it’s true, in the very lowest sense of the word, of merely “transcending” our normal expectations with something a bit beyond them. I’ve seen furniture and decorating that really has gone beyond expectations, leaving me genuinely impressed. For a while.