Holy Curiosity

Not everyone has a good grip of science. But these children’s scientific musings at least show a healthy dose of creativity.

To explain nuclear reactions, one young scientist said, “When they broke open molecules, the found they were only stuffed with atoms. But when they broke open atoms, they found them stuffed with explosions.”

Concerning astronomy, one child said, “Most books now say our sun is a star. But it still knows how to change back into a sun in the daytime.” And another added, “Some people can tell what time it is by looking at the sun. But I have never been able to make out the numbers.”

“Evaporation gets blamed for a lot of things people forget to put the top on,” said a young physics student.

“H2O is hot water, and CO2 is cold water,” a young chemist said. Another student offered this advice: "To collect fumes of sulfur, hold a deacon over a flame in a test tube." (Ouch.)

“Rain is often known as soft water, oppositely known as hail,” reported a budding meteorologist. Another added, “Thunder is a rich source of loudness.”

These young people are just starting a path of life-long learning, and I applaud their efforts to learn more about the universe. Scientific illiteracy will not serve us well in the 21st Century.

But I wonder, as they learn more and their grasp on science becomes firmer, will they still feel awe when they see a falling star? Even if they are able to describe a rainbow in scientific terms, will they still be amazed at its incomparable beauty? I hope so.

And what about matters of the heart and the spirit? Not everything we experience can be measured. How does one measure love and beauty and faith? I wonder if today’s children will also nurture their hearts as they nurture their minds.

I am not one who feels that a scientific mindset and a spiritual outlook are incompatible. I appreciate Albert Einstein’s thoughts on the merging of the spirit and science. He called scientific curiosity “holy.” The physicist said, “The most beautiful and most profound experience is the sensation of the mystical. It is the sower of all true science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead.”

I love science, and I want to learn as much as I can. But as I do, I still want to wonder and stand rapt in awe before the splendor of life and the universe. This is a place of holy curiosity; a place where spirit and science merge. And it’s a place where my soul can be at rest.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: Flickr.com/RS2Photography

Admitting Our Schnozzles

A humorous story has it that many years ago a soldier was sentenced to be flogged. As if something hilarious were about to happen, he chuckled as they led him away and laughed uproariously throughout the whipping.

When the painful punishment finally ended, the officer in charge demanded, “What’s so funny about a flogging? I don’t think it’s a joke.”

“Why, the joke’s on you,” smiled the soldier. “I’m the wrong man!”

I know I wouldn't laugh about a flogging, but I'd like to take myself a little less seriously. Like the Amish man who was driving his horse-drawn carriage down a modern American street. The Amish, of course, live and dress simply and shun most modern technology. So he must have known he cut an odd figure on the busy thoroughfare. But he had a sense of humor. Affixed to the back of his carriage was a hand lettered sign that read, “Energy efficient vehicle. Runs on oats and grass. Caution: Do not step on exhaust.”

This man may have taken his beliefs seriously. And he may have taken his work seriously. But he didn’t take himself too seriously. I believe that’s key.

I think that comedian Jimmy Durante got it right. Durante was known for his prominent nose and often referred to it in his comedy sketches. In a moment of seriousness, he once said, “It dawned on me that as long as I could laugh, I was safe from the world; and I have learned since that laughter keeps me safe from myself, too. All of us have schnozzles that are ridiculous in one way or another; if not in our faces, then in our characters, minds or habits. When we admit our schnozzles, instead of defending them, we begin to laugh and the world laughs with us.”

I don’t always have the courage to admit my schnozzles; to laugh at my short-comings. I am something of an expert at hiding them. But I do know one thing: if I want to laugh at my foibles, there is plenty of good material at hand. And I also know that when I get better at it, I’ll find myself living a happier and healthier life.

-- Steve Goodier

Image: flickr.com/Jasperdo

Keeping the Peace

Do you remember the famous feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys? A squabble started between these families in the states of Kentucky and West Virginia during the American Civil War. After the war, the feud was kept alive by disputes over a fiddle worth $1.75 and a stray razorback hog.

According to Stan Mooneyham, "Dancing on The Strait & Narrow," by Election Day 1882 the situation deteriorated to the point that three McCoy brothers killed Ellison Hatfield because he had insulted them. "Devil Anse," head of the Hatfield clan, had the three McCoys rounded up and tied to bushes within sight of their family cabin; then he put fifty rifle bullets into them. After that it was a life for a life -- sometimes two or three -- and even the women became just part of the body count. Hostilities didn't finally abate until the second decade of the twentieth century. The cost to those two families was immense. Almost thirty deaths were recorded in the most famous example of eye-for-an-eye revenge in U.S. history.

You've seen this scene in the movies: a rugged cowboy pats his pearl-handled six-shooter in a holster hanging from his hip and drawls, "This here is my peacemaker." Peacemaker? Maybe widow-maker. Or orphan-maker. The problem is, shooting people is not a good way to peace. It’s a little like the father who, while spanking his child, said, almost in cadence with each slap, "HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO HIT YOUR SISTER!" Gotta love the irony.

If force and violence can’t bring peace out of chaos, what can? What does it take to make peace? And to keep it?

The answer is clear. Peacemakers are not weapons -- peacemakers are people. You and I. Peacemakers are people with hearts for reconciliation and understanding. In our families; with our neighbors; around the world.

Level-headed and patient people have always been the best hope for a lasting and just peace. That is the only way it has ever worked.

Perhaps that’s why peacemakers are called blessed.

-- Steve Goodier