Just down the street from where I used to live was a vacant lot. During the summer this property of gorgeous vetch, columbine, sage, and trillium would be trampled into the dirt and in its place rose a huge canvas tent. On any given evening and especially on weekends, a passer-by, like me out walking my dog, would hear the gospel so loudly that birds couldn't hear themselves tweet. The shouting, yelling, hosannahs, screams in repetition -- Biblical pronouncements, mostly -- seemed non-stop. My dog moved to the other side, putting my legs between him and the tent people and shivered not a little.
It happened one Sunday afternoon a couple of those adherents stood near their place of worship, smiled and asked if I would like to join them. I thanked them but declined the invitation in favor of getting back to the house with my morning New York Times; I wanted to read the cover story about the Hadron Collider. They said all I ever wanted to know about any "God particle" or anything else in this world I could find in the One Book and that book inside their church. And that's when I and Kevin (my agnostic bulldog) wished them a good day and left.
Not One Book, maybe not all books, but the journey to find some answers to life are not all contained in or by the converted, I've found. And just maybe the true answers are in the journey itself.
"Can faith and science co-exist?"
Yes, so long as we respect who or what tethers each other's leash.
-- BINK OWEN, Walla Walla