quid enim est, nisi quia tu es? ergo dixisti et facta sunt atque in uerbo tuo fecisti ea.
- S. Aureli Augustini, Confessiones XI, 5.
"There’s no other way for the great commission to be done than for a group of people to learn a new language, cross cultures, incarnate the gospel, plant the church. There’s no other way. It won’t be done with twitter."
In other words, it is quite possible that actual existence may be an active force and an efficient cause of observable effects in those things of which we say that they are. If such were the case, all philosophies based upon an existenceless notion of being would be courting disaster, and eventually meet it. It would not take more than two or three disastrous experiments of that kind to convince philosophers that it does not pay to posit being as the first principle of metaphysical knowledge. Hence their repeated attempts to replace it by any one of its many possible surrogates, at the risk of multiplying philosophical failures, so to speak, ad infinitum.
On the page, it looked... nothing. The beginning was simple, almost comic, just a pulse: bassoons, basset horns like a rusty squeezebox. And then, suddenly, high above it, an oboe. A single note, hanging there unwavering, until a clarinet took it over -sweetened it into a phrase of such delight. This was no composition by a performing monkey. This was a music I had never heard -filled with such longing, such unfulfillable longing. It seemed to me that I was hearing the voice of God.