Feeling Wonder, Wanting to Know
This is one of those Sunday morning quick posts, because I’m feeling it right now. As a note to my critics, I’ll be off to church in a bit, and that’s partly what got me thinking about this topic. I have been gravitating more and more toward a service at a church downtown that offers weekly communion. Over the years I’ve migrated from a church that celebrated communion quarterly, to the standard United Methodist monthly, to the point now where I find that too rare. Once I found a church service that offered the Eucharist on a weekly basis, I felt the pull!
Since I am often visiting other churches, I get to take advantage of this from time to time, and now it looks like I may be doing some teaching there, so that will be great. Why? As the incarnation has become more and more firmly placed at the center of my theology, the Eucharist has gravitated toward the center of my liturgy. I think most Christian theologians will understand that. It’s not that the incarnation was ever unimportant, but in my personal theological reflection it has become the antidote to more and more potential problems and the answer to more and more questions.
There’s a mystery and a wonder in this celebration that becomes greater as one both reflects theologically and dives into the event spiritually. Even when the liturgy is badly done, an unfortunately frequent occurrence in Methodist churches, I feel the sense of mystery and wonder. There is nothing quite like trying to wrap one’s mind and spirit around the concept of infinite God combined with human flesh in that 1+1=2 event to open one’s spiritual awareness.
Yesterday I blogged about an “unseemly glee”, and it appears that I may have been less clear that I would have wished. Commenter Larry B notes:
I think you bring up a good point here, but I also think you overstated your case a bit here. Christians arent the only ones guilty of the type of feeling you describe here. I would postulate that all religions revel in the mystery of the unknown. Any encroachment on that pulls a little bit at a core sentiment for religion.
First, I had no intention of suggesting that only Christians have such feelings. I comment on Christianity because I’m a Christian, and that’s what I know. While I have studied other faiths, particularly in the ancient near east, I cannot claim a similar level of knowledge. But to the best of the knowledge I have, Larry is quite correct here. The feeling is held in common over a broad range of religions. But there is a divide amongst adherents of religions, and here I want to comment on Christianity only again, between those who sense wonder and react negatively to exploration and discovery, and those who embrace both wonder and knowledge.
Skipping a paragraph, let me quote again:
I think you have just touched a little bit on common human nature hear where we have a yearning for mystery.
True, but it is not the yearning for mystery that I deplore, but rather the sense of glee against those who seek knowledge. The seekers are often filled with just as much wonder as anyone else; they simply don’t let wonder and yearning for mystery stop the seeking.
Larry posted a third paragraph between these two that provides an excellent illustration. Go back there and read his comment to get the full connection.
Let me illustrate my feeling of wonder and desire for knowledge. Of all the sciences, I probably understand geology the best, followed by astronomy. This is purely amateur knowledge gotten by personal reading and “informal field study” (read, I had roadside geology guides and went and looked at the stuff they pointed out). So when I go to Niagara Falls, I have a pretty fair idea of the geological history and a great deal of the geological future of the formation. For some reason, that knowledge doesn’t prevent any of the feeling of awe and wonder that I get in looking at it.
To try another example, I have a little Shih Tzu dog named Barnabas. He’s quite a character, and he often fills me with quite a sense of wonder. I believe on the one hand that he is the product of hundreds of millions of years of evolution, and many thousands of years of domestication and breeding culminating in the formation of the breed I have. Professional breeders matched his parents. But I do not have a moment of problem calling him a gift of God or wondering at the creator. Barnabas was our son’s companion throughout his illness, encouraging, entertaining. James used to comment that it was hard to stay sad or angry when that dog was around.
The two things are not in any way incompatible. That’s why I believe that those who try to throw mystery up in the face of scientists are missing the point. Many of those same scientists feel a sense of mystery, but at the same time they keep right on investigating. I believe what I missed in my post yesterday was drawing the line between mystery and wonder, which is quite compatible with seeking knowledge, and either the fear that mystery will go away, or the glee in throwing mystery in the face of those who seek knowledge.
There is plenty of mystery in the universe. We have learned many things, but we are in no danger of running out of mystery even if we assumed that all sense of wonder was drained from a topic when it was investigated. Both fear and glee are not indicated. Wonder and seeking are.
This is a short post before running off to church?
Henry, what do you write when you have lots of time?
Books. 🙂
I thought about your post after I left my comments and realized that was probably what you were trying to get at.
I do agree that there are those who are gleeful, even vindictive about their desire to keep people from exploring mysteries out of essentially fear.
My concern was basically around the opposite that if we do too much “reductionism” that we lose the wonder. I think that many scientists still experience great wonder and awe at the things they have explained, but they often aren’t given the chance to publicly express that. Carl Sagan is somebody who embodied the wonder of discovery both privately and publicly. A lot of scientists are never afforded this opportunity.
Albert Camus was one of my favorite existentialist authors and he often left me with a haunting feeling that too much knowledge led to a cynicism that could not be overcome. My prejudice came through when I first read your post.
Thanks for the clarification.