I’ve been listening to a lot of Benjamin Booker, which is why I’m sharing it above. It’s pretty great, kind of raw, stuff. Also, I’ve been reading Robert Capon’s book, The Supper of the Lamb, which is kind of a cookbook, I think, but more of a reflection by an Episcopal priest and amateur cook. The beginning is all about looking closely and lovingly at what is. So here’s a part I love:
Nothing is more likely to become garbage than orange rink; but for as long as anyone looks at it in delight, it stands a million triumphant miles form the trash heap.
That, you know, is why the world exists at all. It remains outside the cosmic garbage can of nothingness, not because it is such a solemn necessity that nobody can get rid of it, but because it is the orange peel hung on God’ chandelier, the wishbone in His Kitchen closet. He likes it; therefore, it stays. The whole marvelous collection of stones, skins, feathers, and string exists because at least one lover has never quite taken His eye off it, because the Dominus vivificans has his delight with the sons of men.
Maybe the world isn’t – maybe you aren’t – there to serve a purpose, but because it is – because you are – loved.