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It is often said, “Knowledge equals Power.” But for all the explanatory power of science—including evolutionary biology—we make a mistake If we adopt an instrumental view of the world and see the primary goal of our explorations as better control over the world rather than deeper understanding. Not only do we miss the beauty and goodness of creation when we look at it as something to be manipulated, we are always tempted to overstate our case when we argue for a material end from which we are likely to benefit.

But if, on the other hand, we take “discovery” to mean learning to see the world aright, rather than just more accurately or efficiently, it will just as often lead us to mystery as it does to mastery, and to a sense of kinship rather than kingship. Indeed, “revelation” may be substituted for “discovery” in the sentence above, for both are gifts to be savored, not wielded. Both point to a Creator who is not useful or convenient, but who is.

This is what Job discovered when his companions ceased their speeches and explanations and he was confronted with the Lord, Himself. Job could do nothing but sit down, mouth shut, and be in the presence of his God. It seems, too, that poet Fleda Brown is suggesting something similar in the lines given below, extending some of the inexplicability of God to the works of His hand, to those other minds to whose ways we are not privy. Despite assertions to the contrary, there are things that remain beyond our scientific reach, and even our best educated guesses. Yet they remain accessible to our appreciation and wonder, and ought to lead us towards humble worship of the Creator.

Knowledge can equal power, but knowledge may also equal powerlessness. Job’s example foreshadowed and Christ’s path exemplified that the latter is the greater blessing.


by Fleda Brown

Who knows
if the goose goes
along its trajectory 
for the reasons we suppose?
Such faith we have 
in the genes,
so little thought for thought,
however wrought,
in creatures unlike us.
So little confidence in art
that teases apart
the sense we’ve made of things
and leaves us with nothing
smart to say,
and no way gracefully
to get away.

“Goose” originally published in The Georgia Review, LXIII, 3 (Fall 2009), 381.

Fleda Brown’s book Driving With Dvorak was released in March 2010 by the University of Nebraska Press. The author of five previous collections of poems, her most recent, Reunion (University of Wisconsin Press, 2007), added the Felix Pollak Prize to her already extensive list of accolades, including being a finalist for the National Poetry Series. With a Ph.D. from the University of Arkansas, she is professor emerita at the University of Delaware, where she taught for 27 years and directed the Poets in the Schools program and where she was the state’s poet laureate from 2001-2007. She now lives in Traverse City, Michigan, and is on the faculty of the Rainier Writing Workshop, a low-residency MFA program in Tacoma, Washington. More about her and her work may be found here.




Editorial Team, BioLogos. "Goose" N.p., 9 Jan. 2011. Web. 24 November 2017.


Editorial Team, B. (2011, January 9). Goose
Retrieved November 24, 2017, from /blogs/archive/goose

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