From Ursula Goodenough’s “The Sacred Depths of Nature.”

Used as the introductory reading for Rev. Jane Page's sermon "The New Atheism" delivered on Sunday, January 27, 2008.

"As a cell biologist…I experience the same kind of awe and reverence when I contemplate the structure of an enzyme or the flowing of a signal-transduction cascade as when I watch the moon rise or stand in front of a Mayan temple. Same rush, same rapture.

But all of us, and scientists are no exception, are vulnerable to the existential shudder that leaves us wishing that the foundations of life were something other than just so much biochemistry and biophysics. The shudder, for me at least, is different from the encounters with nihilism that have beset my contemplation of the universe. There I can steep myself in cosmic Mystery. But the workings of life are not mysterious at all. They are obvious, explainable, and thermodynamically inevitable. And relentlessly mechanical. And bluntly deterministic. My body is some 10 trillion cells. Period. My thoughts are a lot of electricity flowing along a lot of membrane. My emotions are the result of neurotransmitters squirting on my brain cells. I look in the mirror and see the mortality and I find myself fearful, yearning for less knowledge, yearning to believe that I have a soul that will go to heaven and soar with the angels.

William James said, “At bottom, the whole concern of religion is with the manner of our acceptance of the universe.”

The manner of our acceptance. It can be disappointed and resentful; it can be passive and acquiescent; or it can be the active response we call assent. When my awe at how life works gives way to self-pity because it doesn’t work the way I would like, I call on assent -– the age-old religious response to self-pity -- as in “Why Lord? Why This? Why ME?” and then, “Thy Will Be Done.”

As a religious naturalist I say “What Is, Is” with the same bowing of the head, the same bending of the knee. Which then allows me to say “Blessed Be to What Is” with thanksgiving. To give assent is to understand, incorporate, and then let go. With the letting go comes that deep sigh we call relief, and relief allows the joy-of-being-alive-at-all to come tumbling forth again.

Assent is a dignified word. Once it is freely given, one can move fluidly within it."

"Anthem" by Leonard Cohen

The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.

Ah, the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove,
she will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again.
The dove is never free.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.

I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.

You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.

Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.

The Part in the Middle that Doesn't Move

From NYT article on Charles Bock, author of Beautiful Children:

“Charles spent 11 years trying to manifest a single vision on the page, with almost no support,” Mason said. “He’s totally committed to writing — it’s his whole life. His passions have sometimes led him to extremes, but where most people tend as they age to grow set in their ways, he’s become more flexible. He’s still extremely opinionated, but he also has the desire to be a decent human being. I think he’s learned to balance his capacity for great passion with a capacity for empathy, and that’s what you see in the book.”

From Year of the Dog

How do I explain the things I've said and done? How do I explain the person I've become?

I believe life is magical. It is so precious. And there are so many kinds of life in this life, so many things to love. The love for a husband or a wife, a boyfriend or a girlfriend. The love for children. The love for yourself. And even material things. This is my love. It is mine. And it fills me, and it defines me . . . and it compels me on.