Iain Strachan

Today we undertook a massive clearout of the garage and attic. The chaotic jumble of papers, books, toys and so forth was thoroughly sorted, some to keep for special memories, but many assigned for recycling. My past life seemed to flash about me with fond and forgotten memories revived and relived once again in a random patchwork of reminiscence. Here was found my first ever Paddington Bear book, whose stories delighted me as a child. Among my extensive university lecture notes was an essay I wrote on how to explain the particle-wave duality of Quantum Mechanics to a non-scientist. In it, I had tackled the problem of how we understand that light can be simultaneously a particle and a wave, by making an analogy with Christian Theology - that theologians too have the magnum mysterium of Christ being fully man and fully God at the same time. My crusty physics professor (Sir Brian Pippard, who was Cavendish professor of Physics at Cambridge) was not impressed, and wrote the following c...

One thing that is deeply ingrained into me, which I can't explain, is the desire to reach out to those who are in pain or distress. It has been there from quite an early age - part of my make up, I suppose. Last weekend, I heard this song, for the first time, sung by a woman with a beautiful voice, at a lunch party, and fell in love with it straight away. It shows how out of touch with contemporary culture I am that I was unaware it was a big hit for Coldplay in 2005; but came home and immediately found it on YouTube, then also found my daughter had it in her collection. The words spoke directly to me as part of what I want to do. There aren't any easy fixes for people who are in pain, but that doesn't stop us wanting to try. The song also made me feel sad, because of someone I know of, who is suffering as the result of a terrible injustice. I guess this post is dedicated to that person. On the other hand, it's also the case that I've only recently discovered ho...

A morbid discussion arose on one of the email lists I am subscribed to concerning suitable songs one would choose to have played at one's funeral. My choice would be Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen , from Mahler's Rückert-Lieder. The final verse seems to point to a transcendence of the world that is entirely an appropriate way to say goodbye to it. For me, this is simply one of the most beautiful songs ever written. Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen (I have lost touch with the world) Words by Friedrich Rückert Music by Gustav Mahler, Sung by Kathleen Ferrier Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen, Mit der ich sonst viele Zeit verdorben, Sie hat so lange nichts von mir vernommen, Sie mag wohl glauben, ich sei gestorben! Es ist mir auch gar nichts daran gelegen, Ob sie mich für gestorben hält, Ich kann auch gar nichts sagen dagegen, Denn wirklich bin ich gestorben der Welt. Ich bin gestorben dem Weltgetümmel, Und ruh' in einem stillen Gebiet! Ich leb' allein in meinem Him...

There is an old conundrum often used to argue against the idea of an Omnipotent (capable of anything) God. It goes as follows: "Can God make a stone so heavy He cannot lift it?" A simple examination of the logical conundrum would lead to the conclusion that God cannot be omnipotent. If He CAN make such a stone, then He is incapable of lifting it by definition. If, however, he cannot make such a stone then that is also something He is incapable of doing. Therefore, God cannot be omnipotent - whichever way you look at it, there is something that God is incapable of doing. As the atheist writer Douglas Adams would have put it "So God disappears in a puff of logic". The thought that has come to me recently is that this simple analysis doesn't apply to the Christian religion - and that the mystery of Incarnation (the Word became flesh and dwelt among us - John 1:14), offers a resolution to this paradox. The paradox would indeed be unanswerable for a God that li...