I think that the reason reality is that way – that it is in some ultimate sense merciful as well as being a set of physical processes all running along on their own without hope of appeal, all the way up from quantum mechanics to the relative velocity of galaxies by way of “blundering, low and horridly cruel” biology (Darwin) – is that the universe is sustained by a continual and infinitely patient act of love. I think that love keeps it in being. I think that I don’t have to posit some corny interventionist prod from a meddling sky-fairy to account for my merciful ability to notice things a little better, when God is continually present everywhere anyway, undemonstratively underlying all cafés, all cassettes, all composers.

That’s what I think.

Nice to see that Ambrose Evans-Pritchard continues to write better-informed analyses than many of his colleagues at the Telegraph – and even more that he is saying the same thing as I did in my last Courier article. This is the key point, as portrayed by Colin Campbell back in 2006:

The recession – the great dislocation – will not stop until we either replace oil-based transport or learn to do without it. I expect us to be arguing along these lines for some years yet.

I never expected Merton to sound like Jimmy Stewart.

Have just taken delivery of this. Time to find out if the Church has made any progress at all on this issue in 50 years…

Doug Chaplin has written a three-part review of my book here, here and here. He says: “a book well-worth reading which has constantly provoked thought, even if sometimes in disagreement” – please do have a read of what he says, it gives a good summary of the argument and he puts his finger on some significant issues (and I have left detailed comments on his site).

Decline in almost every measurable form has characterized the Church of England in the past forty years. (Robin Gill, 2003)

“When I was an undergrad I came across the saying that learning a little philosophy leads you away from God, but learning a lot of philosophy leads you back.  As a young man who had learned a little philosophy, I scoffed.  But in later years and at least in my own case, I would come to see that it’s true.”

Edward Feser gives a potted intellectual biography, one with many parallels to my own journey. It gives a more technical explanation of why I find it difficult to take most atheism seriously.