|Written by Sherry|
|Wednesday, 31 October 2007 07:11|
A reader of ID writes about the current beliefs of a grieving widower with whom he has been sharing his faith: "the cosmos is soooo enormous that he can't believe we humans have any significance."
To which I can not do better in a hurry than to quote from the "funniest, wisest, and most unorthodox cookbook ever written" (or so thought Craig Clairborne of the New York Times in the late 60's)
"Unfortunately, we live in an age which is too little impressed by the small and too easily intimidated by the great. It is the stock in trade of atheists and other knockers of the wonder of being to insist that the magnitude of the universe makes all men's musings insignificant. How, they ask, can we seriously think we are of much account in a universe where light travels at 185,000 miles per second, and it takes a hundred light years to go from one galaxy to the next?
Looking into my saucepan as the stock thickens, I find a counterfoil to such astronomical terrorism. Creation is vast in every direction. It is as hugely small as it is large. The number of water-filled insterstices in my three tablespoons of flour runs the interstellar distances a fair second, the appeal to size is a self-canceling argument. Plying my whisk, I know that what goes on here is neither less mysterious nor less marvelous than what happen there. We may not have settled the question of whether i am mad to think that I matter, but we have definitely eliminated the numbers game as a method of proof. I will listen to any man who wants to argue me down, but saucepan in hand, I refused to be snowed."
The Supper of the Lamb, Robert Farrar Capon