S1: Theology and Imagination

E5: The Shocking Divorce Rate of my Socks

Pardon my poor attempt at rhyme, but life tends to work better when things remain together: nuts and bolts, pen and paper, bacon and eggs, day and night, sweet and salty, knife and fork, null and void, prim and proper, cloak and dagger, macaroni and cheese, Tom and Jerry, and most of all Netflix and binge watching television. Even God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him” (Genesis 2:18 NIV). Without dubious thought, the idea of singularity and isolation are repugnant to life.  

A little solitude is good for the soul, even my socks get a moment to themselves in the spin dryer. Despite momentary solitude, if singularity is repugnant to life what about the divorce rate of my socks? If the animals boarded Noah’s Ark in pairs and disembarked in the same manner, why are my socks alarmingly separating? My footwear enters the washing machine two-by-two in Noah-like fashion before exiting for the dryer within arm’s reach. Upon alighting the warmth of that tumbler, the happy couple are no longer together. The right sock has left the left sock.   

Socks were created in pairs. A sock is impractical, ineffective, and pointless without its partner. A single sock has no meaning. It does not belong in the world.

My socks and their divorce rate may seem distracting for a serious blog about theology and imagination. However, the German sociologist, Georg Simmel would strongly disagree.

He devoted a significant part of his adult life developing social theories that underscore this idea of togetherness. As a keen observer and critic of society, Simmel built on Immanuel Kant’s metaphysical question, “What is nature?” He did so by asking a sociological question, -“What is society?” Whereas Kant examined the nature of things, Simmel focused on the societal nature of people. 

Simply put, the material world and people go together like a pair of socks. On their own, the material world and society are largely meaningless.   

 Are the theories of these German fellas valid and reliable? I think so, especially in light of my recent visit to Cambridge University where the past and present mingle with the living and dead. If this seems odd, think about Memorial Day in the United States where the past reverberates into the present.

 Between the River Cam and the Kings Parade, the Chapel at Kings College symbolizes the global allurement of Cambridge. It has done so for over 500 years displaying its perpendicular gothic architecture to tourists and worshippers, or a blend of both. The Chapel was founded by King Henry VI in 1441 but he made little progression as the War of Roses stifled his funds. Thankfully, King Henry VII took an interest in 1508, but it was not until 1544 that King Henry VIII finished its construction. How ironic that a man who fought with the Church was proud to open its doors – albeit the Church of England at the cost of the Roman Catholic Church.           

It is within this Chapel that tourists intuitively know their experience is unfamiliar as sense-making takes place. The heart and mind become aroused by the detail and grandiose aesthetics. 

People quietly ponder, “How do I make sense of what I’m thinking and feeling?” The answer of course is like a single sock, useless on its own. 

It is not until early evening when tourists become worshippers during Evensong that things begin to make sense. Whether Christian, atheist, agnostic, spiritual and humanist, all become transported into the courts of heaven as the choristers bring together Kant and Simmel: the spectacular aesthetics of the Chapel and the perception of the people in it. ......A perfect pair of socks.

Without people, architectural aesthetics cannot facilitate imagination… It is a lonesome sock.

Detached from people, the Chapel and Kings College stirs nothing. It evokes no effect. It aroused zilch. 

People are necessary to do the Chapel justice. With tourists and worshippers, the Chapel changes, especially when people begin to imagine others that are no longer present: the students of times past at Kings College in Cambridge.

 Francis Walsingham (1532-1590) the spymaster of Queen Elizabeth I; Robert Walpole (1676-1745) considered the first Prime Minister of Great Britain; E. M. Forster (1879-1970) a prolific novelist, short story writer, essayist and librettist; Alan Turing (1912-1954) the computer scientist who shortened the Second World War by breaking German code; Derek Prince (1915-2003) the international Bible teacher and advocate for Israel; and Corin Redgrave (1939-2010) the actor and political activist. The memory of past alumni mingles with those who currently occupy the Chapel as tourists or worshippers. 

The past and present reverberate within aesthetics. 

Logically, the Chapel consists of stone, wooden carvings, stained glass windows and thin layers of patina covering metal surfaces. These materials constitute the whole building. None of this should change by the fact that past students across 500 years became influential poets and politicians, actors and activists, scientists and sailors, comedians and congressmen, or professors and physicists. But it does, because of that fact.  

The creaky pews take on a different tone; footsteps on the worn stone become amplified; stained-glass windows begin to move shadows in a kaleidoscope of possibilities; and, the patina makes the metalwork seem a little more embellished. The Chapel’s material is not a neutral tableau for tourists and worshippers to simply project their emotions. -Rather, the building itself has aesthetic agency, not in the sense that it has consciousness, but a capacity to engage the imagination of the people who occupy it - as they remember people of the past.

Simmel believed that human imagination was anchored to experiences of the material world; or as I put it, like a perfect pair of socks. However, the material world is not a stage prop, but a necessary part of experiencing God. St. Paul wrote to the church in Rome, 

“For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse” Romans 1:20 NIV. 

 The “qualities” that St. Paul mentions are nothing short of tangible things that reveal God.[4] Scripture is consistent about God’s invisibility. “No one has ever seen God” (John 1:18 NIV); “The Son [Christ] is the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15 NIV); and, “Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God” (1 Timothy 1:17 NIV). -Therefore, his qualities are revealed in what He has made. They can be experienced physically through observation. 

While the Chapel and Kings College is a perfect example of observing God’s invisible qualities, three more examples shed light on experiencing God by observing the unmanufactured material world. If these natural qualities can be experienced through observation, like the Chapel, it means the world has agency. It has a capacity to engage the imagination of the observer. Simmel insists on these two things in order to find meaning: my left and right socks.  

Second…

Jesus said to his followers, “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? …See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin… If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you” Matthew 6:26-30 NIV.

Observing flying fowl and verdant vegetation changes completely when human imagination is anchored to it.

God’s invisible qualities are seen in them. The dominant qualities are care, compassion and provision.

If God takes care of the intricate and delicate non-human world, He will undeniably take care of you. So, next time you spend a quiet evening sitting on your front porch or walk through wildlife, “see” the birds, flowers, and grass. The agency in them will invite your imagination to know the invisible quality of God’s care, compassion, and provision for you. 

lift your gaze from the ground and broaden your view to the landscape and its horizon beyond your property. Towards the end of his life, King David wrote, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it” (Psalm 24:1 NIV). Over 400 years later, a grumpy Israelite prophet called Habakkuk wrote, “The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea” (Habakkuk 2:14 NIV). 

The whole material world is filled with the knowledge of God’s invisible qualities making Him unavoidable.  

 Among multiple examples, the four seasons of a year illustrate this unavoidableness. Summer is filled with the hue of color, fragrant aroma, and a tapestry of texture. But summer fades into autumn. The colors diminish, fragrances become distant, and texture turns into bland beige. Before long, any semblance of life is stripped away by the cold winter season. The day is short as the night extends itself. It’s bleakness and dreariness tend to have a grim effect on people. Then, spring bursts into the frame, and with it, new life from the earth. Before long, color and fragrance are back as the day extends itself pushing the night into retreat.  

Without words, the summer tells the story of creation in all its beauty. Autumn begins to remove that beauty until winter arrives. Something has gone terribly wrong. When all seems lost, new life arrives with the spring. What was dead is resurrected to new life.

The four seasons are no longer atmospheric periods of time. Agency creates room for imagination telling and retelling the redemptive story: creation, sin, redemption, and new life. It fills the earth. If you ever occupy the window seat on a flight somewhere, look down at the earth. On a clear day, any topography will show you the invisible qualities of God’s power to bring new life into your life.  

Third,

before King David died, he wrote, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands” (Psalm 19:1 NIV). About the same time, he also wrote, “He [God] sits enthroned above the circle of the earth” (Psalm 40:22 NIV). The poetry in David’s words reveal how the cosmos was understood. Apparently, God sat above the earth, almost like a cosmic scene from Greek mythology. Poetry aside, Galileo and the Hubble Telescope (1990) have literally explained the cosmos, while leaving intact the truth David wrote.- God is above all He created. 

Next time you look up to the “heavens” on a clear night, through an instrument of cosmology or just with the naked eye, observe the starry host from your part of the world. Again, the stars have agency in the sense of engaging imagination. By observing the aesthetics of a clear night sky, stars are not just stars, they are the instruments that “proclaim” the unavoidable qualities of God – and the means for NASA to request more government funding.

Aesthetics paints a remarkable picture of God from birds and flowers, the earth, and the cosmos. His invisible qualities can be clearly seen as we observe the world around us and remember others that stood where we now stand. Our lives find meaning in God when imagination is anchored in aesthetics.

In this way, the divorce rate of my socks will hopefully fall.