Economy of Grace

I have been reading Walden on the subway this week on my way to and from work. I can't help but chuckle as I read about Thoreau's 28.12$ house, and his simple life next to Walden Pond. I ride along under Time Square, and 5th avenue, and think of the conspicuous consumption that characterizes typical New Yorkers, and Walden is as far from my surroundings as it gets.

I love how Thoreau encourages his readers to be satisfied with less materially, to embrace independence, self-reliance, and simplicity of life. I have enjoyed getting lost in the pages of his simple, calculating experiments and his thoughts about what is meaningful in life.

Thoreau was a Transcendentalist and he believed in the importance of a direct relationship with God and with nature. As a science teacher and a believer I really relate with some of his analogies, and writing. I feel at peace when I am in nature. Is this because of an interconnectedness I have with nature? I would say not. I am in awe of the created world, and the detail in which it was created. I think it is time that people of faith share a curiosity and inquisitiveness with scientists and put aside the finger pointing, and name calling for we are looking at the same thing. To other people of faith, what if God created the world in a big bang? What if God created the species by a process? Could this be? To other people of science, we cannot test God, no data can be collected that can prove his existence of this we can agree. Darwin said that the question of a God was a religious question and not a scientific one. There are many questions that science can not answer, such as what we should do or how we should live. Maybe there is greater meaning to life than chance, and entropy, and the cycle of life and death.

I believe that this love of nature was written into my genetic code, it was passed down through many generations and was nurtured in me ever since I was a child. Do my thoughts on God being the author of creation overstep my professional obligations as a teacher? Am I going to hell because I teach my class about evolution and how scientists look at the world? Do my lessons on evolution in biology class make me any less eligible to receive Christ's grace which is freely given? My relationship with Jesus is the ultimate transformative power in my life. If I do not utter a word about my faith I pray that my actions speak louder than words. I hope that my actions do not confirm peoples perceptions that I am another hypocrite, or close minded religious fanatic, but someone who understands what it is to be a true Christian.

Perpetual Motion

Life moves so fast. New Yorkers seem to thrive on this fast paced, frenzied lifestyle. May is national bike month, and I have been trying to ride my bike to work at least twice a week. My commute is between 7 and 8 miles and I ride through Central Park, and then down the Hudson River Parkway. Imagine, it's 6:55 am and the city is still half asleep. The early summer air is cool, and I pedal off through Central Park. It is really getting green now, and the flowering trees are in full bloom. I passed a woman last week in the park, and then when I got to the Parkway she was in front of me again? I was curious how this could be? Did she know a shortcut that I was unaware of? I rode up next to her to inquire of her shortcut. With her hands firmly gripping the handlebars in front of her, and her eyes fixed on the path ahead she shewed me. "Get on, either go in front, or ride behind, you're being unsafe, go, get, go." She was so stressed I just said, "easy lady you need to chill", and I rode off, blissfully unconcerned with the stress of the city. I love moving through the city by the power of my legs, speeding past gridlocked traffic, weaving in and out of walkers, runners, and rollerbladers. I love ringing my orange bell as I pedal past decked out road bikers. Some of my favorite interactions are with messengers riding weather worn fixed gear bikes. Most of them are tatooed, pierced, and friendly. They ride for a living, and I cherish my talks with them as I am riding to work, or out on an errand. I love the human contact of talking about the city, how grumpy some people are, or how your bike is riding. Then a dap of our fists and we are on our separate ways. Neither of us are changed by the interaction per say, but each of us are better off from having a connection with another human being. Life does move fast, but this encounter reminded me to take time to share your life with others. As for me I will keep pedaling through life, taking it all in as it comes.

Loss, memories, cross

My Grandfather passed away on Saturday morning. This post is in memory of Lawrence "Pete" Bloss.

He was a quiet man, tall and slender, they say I got my height from him. Quiet, but strong. In the silence, when I looked at him I saw a wisdom that transcended words. Past the wrinkled face, the swollen ankles, or the snow white hair, I could see a concerned father farming to help support his family. A determined man who moved his family's farm across a field with a team of horses. I wish I could have seen his face as he looked down on his farm from a plane as he saw a cloud of smoke only to realize that the smoke was coming from his barn, and the fire was stated by his twin sons. (Sorry uncle Paul.) Through this swollen ankles I could see a track star who went to state in the mile, and who raced my mom to the car after church when she was only a girl. Past the snow white hair I see a care free young man with his red speed boat, and a love of pan fish and sardines. I could imagine his hair blowing in the wind as he flew his ultra light air plane, or road around the county on his motorcycle. When I was a child folks at church told me stories of how he fell off the side of a barn road his ladder all the way down to the ground and walked away from it or was hit by a car crossing the street and yelled at the lady driving the car. Only to walk away once more. I don't think I ever saw Grandpa smile as big as when he talked about Heaven, and how he can't wait to be there. Grandpa is there now, reunited with his wife, no more pain. We will miss him. We will see him again some day.