I stopped by Bill Whittle's corner of Pajamas Media today for the first time in months. I just finished my three month hiatus on news and politics, and I'm trying to ease myself back in without going crazy. He had some interesting things to say, about well-meaning tyrrany and the danger of continually doing for others what they can do for themselves. Then he said some things that hit me like a fencepost to the head:
The Book of Matthew it says that not a sparrow falls without God knowing it. For most of my adult life I’ve believed that all that we see is all that there is: just bone and skin and feathers. I believe absolutely that little Howie’s perfect form is the result of millions of years of evolution and natural selection… in fact, millions of years ago, Howie’s ancestors were three times my height and mine were about his size. Bottom rail on top now, huh Howie? [...] Howie’s brain – charitably – is about the size of a pea. Mine’s about the size of a cantaloupe. [...] But if there’s that much difference between a pea and a cantaloupe, how is it that I once believed that there is nothing beyond the perception of a cantaloupe made of grey jelly?
That right there took me aback. You see, I've known Bill Whittle for a few years now (only through reading him, I don't move in such prestigious circles yet) as a passionate moral atheist. He believes in doing the right thing because it is the right thing, because we are happier and more successful when we are free and kind and cooperative. He quoted a few times Carl Sagan's invisible dragon argument about the non-existence of the supernatural. I still loved what he had to say, in part because he never had the vicious attitude of the "evangelical atheists" as I call them that I often encounter in libertarian circles. He has always been happy to live how he wishes and let others do what they wish even while telling them they were probably wrong.
But this? This is different. He's seen something to change his perception. I haven't gone back to catch up, to see if this is the first sign or one of many that I missed over the last three months. But he continues:
The distance between Howie and me – between the pea and the cantaloupe – may not be much less than the distance between myself and a greater being who’s perceptions and powers are as far beyond me as mine are beyond Howie’s, and who may in fact note the fall of every sparrow. And if he does, I hope he takes special note of this one. I hope he will lift him – and all of us, too – up and out of the four dimensions of space and time the way I first lifted Howie out of his broken nest, and for the same unlikely reason that this hairless primate cares for this little bird: because he can.
That is a beautiful sentiment from anyone. It is all the more poignant because it was unexpected. God is great, trite as that sounds, and I am grateful that He forgets no one. Praise God because He does not forget us, even when we forget or even ignore Him. Because He loves all His creations, and His children most of all. Because He will stretch His hand out all the day long, waiting for us to accept it. Praise God because we can always come home. Even when we didn't know we had left.
Oyster out.
