My post on Revelation and Science has raised quite a lot of interest. Even before I finished it I thought of some further important things to say, and further conversations with friends have revealed (if that's the word) other important points
Image: my laptop – I've been spending a lot of time here lately...
Where does scientific knowledge come from? Today I want to share some thoughts on this and to reflect on the surprisingly widespread view among Christian thinkers that science is a form of divine revelation.
As this strange and troubling academic term comes to an end, I can think of no better way of finishing it than by turning to God in prayer—in adoration for his grace, confession and thanksgiving for what’s past, and supplication for the future.
Dear Lord and Father,
Liza Lansang Espinoza shares her reading of The Secularization of Science by Herman Dooyeweerd, which will be the focus of the first All of Life Redeemed webinars on 4 and 11 June. (See this post for the flyer, including the email address for signing up.)
'Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.'
On 4 and 11 June, Richard will be delivering a 2-part webinar series as part of the All of Life Redeemed initiative. Bruce Wearne gives a personal reflection on the article addressed by this webinar.
Like many who are not schoolteachers, NHS staff or other key workers, in these recent weeks I have been getting used to spending most of my time at home, getting very acquainted with Zoom and the various tools we are using for online teaching at the university where I work. It’s been quite enlightening (and at times quite shocking!) to see how this period of enforced restriction has affected my sense of time: little jobs can stretch out to fill a whole day, and often I will look at the clock (or the calendar!) and be startled to see how much time has passed.
Just over a week ago I submitted my doctoral thesis. One of the most enjoyable parts of the final few weeks of this process was writing the acknowledgements. Before sitting down to do this, I had thought to myself: "I'm not going to be one of those people who writes pages and pages of acknowledgements. It's self-indulgent and a bit too much like showing off. Surely a paragraph or two will be enough."
George MacDonald (1824-1905) was a Scottish clergyman and writer who profoundly influenced the fiction and non-fiction works of C.S. Lewis. One of Lewis’s lesser-known publications is an edited collection of MacDonald’s writings: the book can be hard to find in print now, but a dear friend gifted my a copy of it two years ago, offering me a valuable 'guided tour' of MacDonald's profound, if at times abstruse, writings on life and faith.