Most days I am consumed with language. I teach writing, so I am continually talking about writing, thinking about writing, reading others’ writing, reading writing about writing. Or I’m writing. I pay attention to language, always, and the way language is presented.
One aspect of language that matters, especially the language of our faith, is capital letters. Of course we use capital letters to indicate the beginning of a sentence, or proper nouns. We are taught to always capitalize “I” (another topic for another time, perhaps). But when we talk about our faith (Our Faith), capital letters can change meaning significantly.
For all my adult life I’ve struggled with Belief. I don’t Believe. In God. Or god. But I do believe in plenty of things, like baseball and oceans and air so cold it freezes nose hairs. Maybe god had something to do with those things. i don’t know.
I don’t believe in Miracles like the parting of the Red Sea or the Ascension of Jesus. But I do believe in miracles like the grip of a newborn baby on my finger, or the way that seeds and sun and water can create vegetables out of dirt.
I don’t believe in Creation as in “on the first day God Created.” But I believe in creation that means something out of nothing (like writing, or birth). And I believe in creation that is the dirt we tread on and the air we breathe.
This past week Laura introduced us to the Celtic view of creation. If you’ve read this far (stick with me; I’m almost done) it won’t surprise you that I love the idea of creation being “the grand volume of God’s utterance.” I’m also taken with the notion that we should be alert to the “expressions of God in the mystery of Creation.”
Mystery. That’s an idea I can Believe in. Maybe I’ll begin to capitalize it from now on.