One of the deepest and strangest of all human moods is the mood which will suddenly strike us perhaps in a garden at night, or deep in sloping meadows, the feeling that every flower and leaf has just uttered something stupendously direct and important, and that we have by a prodigy of imbecility not heard or understood it. There is a certain poetic value, and that a genuine one, in this sense of having missed the full meaning of things. There is beauty, not only in wisdom, but in this dazed and dramatic ignorance.
– G. K. Chesterton
What brings life meaning? Three components: wonder, truth, love, and security. In our infancy, the sense of wonder; in our youth, the understanding of truth; in our middle years, the experience of love; and in our old-age, the confidence of security. And we have found out through life that many of the things we give to each other as security do not really add up to much. We want something that goes beyond these three score years and ten…
The older you get the more it takes to fill your heart with wonder, and only God is big enough to fill it. Meaning comes from wonder, truth, love and security. And God, who is the perpetual novelty, who gave us a Son who is the way, the truth, and the life, who loved you and gave himself for you on the cross, and says, “Because I live, you shall live also,” that’s when meaning comes in, when these four components deal with the questions of origin, meaning, morality, and destiny, and bring that coherence into your life.
–Adapted from Ravi Zacharias
Worship is an act of awe. Artists who have detached themselves from a religious grounding, don’t fly but merely float away. Their creativity has no reference point. They try to be original. They try to be different. They try to shock. But endless shock merely makes us senseless. We have lost our true appreciation of surprise because we have the purpose of creativity precisely backwards. “The function of imagination,” says Chesterton, “is not to make strange things settled, so much as to make settled things strange; not so much to make wonders facts as to make facts wonders.
G.K. Chesterton and the Use of the Imagination
Artwork: Toil Today Dream Tonight, by Vincent Van Gogh
As we acquire more knowledge,
things do not become more comprehensible,
but more mysterious.
– Albert Schweitzer
Science is wonderful at raising questions. Some can be answered immediately; some will be answerable in the future through technological advance; and some will lie beyond its capacity to answer—what my scientific hero sir Peter Medawar (1915–87) referred to as “questions that science cannot answer and that no conceivable advance of science would empower it to answer.” What Medawar has in mind are what the philosopher Karl Popper called “ultimate questions,” such as the meaning of life. So does acknowledging and engaging such questions mean abandoning science? No. it simply means respecting its limits and not forcing it to become something other than science.
The Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset (1883–1955) put his finger on the point at issue here. Scientists are human beings. If we, as human beings, are to lead fulfilled lives, we need more than the partial account of reality that science offers. We need a “big picture,” an “integral idea of the universe” . . .
Scientific truth is exact, but it is incomplete.” We need a richer narrative, linking understanding and meaning. That is what the American philosopher John Dewey (1859– 1952) was getting at when he declared that the “deepest problem of modern life” is that we have failed to integrate our “thoughts about the world” with our thoughts about “value and purpose.”
So we come back to that haunting and electrifying sense of wonder at the world . . . I gradually came to realize that we need a richer and deeper vision of reality if we are to do justice to the complexity of the world and live out meaningful and fulfilling lives. So just what are we talking about? The quest for God.
–Alister E . McGrath,
As soon as man does not take
his existence for granted,
but beholds it as something
(1875 – 1965)