I made Gluten-Free Peanut Butter Cookies yesterday, our ninth recipe. I've heard people talk about recipes like this for peanut butter cookies, with just peanut butter, sugar, and eggs. It sounds interesting because it is so simple with only three ingredients, but I've heard they are great. However, we were disappointed. I was expecting them to be extra peanut buttery; one review compared them to eating peanut butter from the jar. But I thought they tasted less like peanut butter than other recipes I've had and mostly just tasted like sugar. It is impressive that with three ingredients you can make a functional cookie, but I was not impressed with the taste. They made decent pazookie though.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Friday, September 27, 2013
Changing One's Mind, Part 1
Changing one's mind entails changing one's actions; an inconsistency between thought and action indicates a breakdown somewhere in the process of being a human person. (This does not mean it is uncommon, of course -- quite to the contrary.) Part of what it means to be rational is to acknowledge, clarify, and intensify the feedback loop between thinking and acting: through activity, I encounter the world, on which I reflect, on the basis of which I act, which provides more material for reflection, etc.
This is one of the reasons I enjoy philosophy -- a choice of thoughts is a choice of worlds in which to live and move, and each new concept adds a new dimension of experience to the world. Looking back, I am frequently amazed how much smaller a world I lived in even a few short years ago. And I expect to say the same a few years from now.
The problem is that there are ways of thinking that act to break down the integrity of thought and action. One of these ways has to do with a kind of false humility. Recognizing one's limitations is often beneficial, prompting me to examine beliefs I have long held correct, develop mental habits that compensate for likely biases and shortcomings, etc. On the other hand, these same limitations often becomes an excuse to sever the relationship between thought and action, to split oneself in two. As Yudkowsky says, "It is all too easy to meet every counterargument by saying, 'Well, of course I could be wrong.' Then, having dutifully genuflected in the direction of Modesty, having made the required obeisance, you can go on about your way without changing a thing. [...] The temptation is carefully integrate all incoming news in a way that lets us change our beliefs, and above all our actions, as little as possible." The tendency to do this increases with the inconvenience of changing one's mind or one's behavior.
Thus, in a strange way, the acknowledgement that I may be wrong becomes a functional insistence that I am right (or as right as I can be). Instead of fallibility being a reason to reevaluate, it becomes a confirmation of what is presumed likely to be in error.
This is one of the reasons I enjoy philosophy -- a choice of thoughts is a choice of worlds in which to live and move, and each new concept adds a new dimension of experience to the world. Looking back, I am frequently amazed how much smaller a world I lived in even a few short years ago. And I expect to say the same a few years from now.
The problem is that there are ways of thinking that act to break down the integrity of thought and action. One of these ways has to do with a kind of false humility. Recognizing one's limitations is often beneficial, prompting me to examine beliefs I have long held correct, develop mental habits that compensate for likely biases and shortcomings, etc. On the other hand, these same limitations often becomes an excuse to sever the relationship between thought and action, to split oneself in two. As Yudkowsky says, "It is all too easy to meet every counterargument by saying, 'Well, of course I could be wrong.' Then, having dutifully genuflected in the direction of Modesty, having made the required obeisance, you can go on about your way without changing a thing. [...] The temptation is carefully integrate all incoming news in a way that lets us change our beliefs, and above all our actions, as little as possible." The tendency to do this increases with the inconvenience of changing one's mind or one's behavior.
Thus, in a strange way, the acknowledgement that I may be wrong becomes a functional insistence that I am right (or as right as I can be). Instead of fallibility being a reason to reevaluate, it becomes a confirmation of what is presumed likely to be in error.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Coexist
It is not entirely clear whether the sentiment expressed is some kind of pluralism or syncretism, but one way or another the bumper sticker argues for the preservation and affirmation of the different ideologies it depicts. The fact that this bumper sticker has been around so long suggests that people resonate with it in some fashion.
1. Curiously, if the sentiment expressed by the bumper sticker were given a symbol, such a symbol could never be integrated within the sticker. The ideology of the sticker constitutes a totality of which it cannot be a part; it is a position with respect to ideology that can function only on the basis of the exception of itself as ideology from the logic of its position. On the one hand, like the various religions depicted, the "coexist" ideology is just another absolutism, and would thus fit quite nicely, but this would destroy the concept on which the sticker's message hinges in the first place.
2. Could we have a similar bumper sticker with respect to systems of government? One that urges for a democratic-theocratic-communist-monarchic-totalitarian-libertarian-feudal form of government? Although the logic is the same, I suspect that a majority would view the governmental version as either incoherent or objectionable, even those whose first inclination is to affirm the religious version. Why is this?
(All due credit goes to the Thomist blog I follow regularly.)
Thinking about the Existence of God, Part 2
Reflections on the Differences between Ontological and Cosmological Arguments
Cosmological arguments that operate on the basis of scientific knowledge are not convincing. Imagine a person contending, "we are pretty sure that anything which begins to exist has a cause, and science is pretty confident that the universe began to exist, so it is most probable that the universe has a cause, which is God." The claim that whatever evidence science is currently pleased points to God more than not may be accurate, but I think it remains unconvincing for most people (and I am one of them).
Why is this? One reason has to do with the limitations of scientific inquiry, of course: on the one hand, science is always changing and one does not necessarily want to hang one's spiritual hat on its current configuration; on the other hand, one has a hard time imagining God to be a proper object of scientific study. I think another reason, though, has to do with the nature of the claim. People do not want to understand God in terms of probability -- "God is more probable than not, so I should believe." First, belief in God based on such an understanding will always be an error in reasoning: just as a fifty percent chance of God's existence entails that we believe God's existence and non-existence to be equally likely, a ninety-nine percent probability of God's existence justifies us in believing that God's existence is ninety-nine percent probable, and nothing more. Establishing probabilities, in other words, justifies us only in believing the probabilities which have been established.
More fundamentally, though, people want to relate to God in terms of confidence and certainty. (This certainty can be shaken by doubt, but the entire existential structure of doubt and the dark night of the soul is predicated upon the dialectic of certainty and confidence; it is entirely foreign to tabulation of evidence and probability calculus.) One does not want to say, "in view of the evidence, I am eighty-six percent sure that God exists." One simply wants to say, "God exists."
Here ontological arguments, such as the one above, are much more satisfying, offering an analysis that posits God in strictly necessary terms.
Reflections on the Concept of Demonstrating the Existence of God
Can God's existence be demonstrated at all? In other words, to what extent can arguments for the existence of God be satisfying to begin with?
When I was younger, I was of the opinion that God's existence was not subject to demonstration. I quickly grew tired of any purported "proofs" and thought them nothing but word games. This was predicated in large part on a misunderstanding of faith and its relation to reason.
But if the world manifests the rationality of the divine Logos, if God has a determinate and fundamental place in its ontological makeup, and if our apprehension of this order is itself an element of the same order, then nothing is more natural than that a proper application of the understanding to Being should reveal not only the necessity of God's existence but the determination of many aspects of that existence.
Insofar as we desire to know God, furthermore, such analyses is indispensable to us, for the world reveals many things of God that are absent or under-determined in (or, for that matter, duplicated in) Sacred Scripture.
As the Apostle says, "For what can be known about God is evident to them, because God made it evident to them. Ever since the creation of the world, his invisible attributes of eternal power and divinity have been able to be understood and perceived in what he has made."
Monday, September 23, 2013
Honey Chicken
We made Honey Chicken tonight for dinner, recipe number eight. This was good for a weeknight because I cut everything up and started marinating it yesterday, so all I had to do tonight was throw it in a pan and cook it. The problem was that the bell pepper got overcooked before the chicken was done. Other than that, we were happy with this recipe. I added mushrooms and swiss chard, which was nice.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Blackberry Sage Spritzers
We had a cocktail hour last night while we sat out on our deck and barbecued; it was wonderful. We tried Blackberry Sage Spritzers, a recipe my friend, Katie, posted on her blog. This was our seventh recipe. These were delicious and it was so nice to sit outside in the cool late summer air, sipping our drinks and talking while we cooked our food.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Swiss Chard and Pecan Pesto
I used swiss chard and basil from our garden to make Swiss Chard and Pecan Pesto today, our sixth recipe. This was great because it allowed me to substitute some swiss chard, which we have tons of, for basil, which is less abundant. I think I would have preferred it with a little more basil than the recipe called for, but it was still great and it's always nice to be able to make something from your own plants. We used it on turkey pesto sandwiches for lunch.
Summer Salsa
Recipe number five was Super Summer Salsa, which we had for dinner last night. This was good, but super sweet, even though I didn't put the full amount of sugar in. If I make this again, I would cut the sugar and vinegar way back, to a quarter or less of the original recipe. I used fresh corn in it and that worked well. Overall, we were still pretty happy with it.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Thinking about the Existence of God, Part 1
An Ontological Argument for the Existence of God
1. All things that have being are either conceived only in themselves or conceived in another.
For example, John Smith is not conceived in himself; rather, he is conceived in human being and in the Smith family, that he is 5'8" is conceived in extension, etc. Extension as such, on the other hand, does not seem to be conceived in anything else; it is conceived in itself. We might call that which is conceived in itself a "substance" and that which is conceived in another a "mode."
2. It belongs to the nature of substance to exist.
Let us attempt to conceive of a substance as non-existent. In what would we be conceiving it? If we say we are conceiving it in itself, but are claiming that it does not exist, we are claiming to conceive it in non-being, in nothing; this is absurd. But if we say we are conceiving it in something else, then it is not a substance at all; it is a mode. Thus, a substance necessarily exists.
3. If God exists, God is substance.
God is not conceived in another, for God is not dependent and contingent being, but rather maximally great and the ground of all being. Instead, God is conceived in godself, i.e., God is substance.
4. God necessarily exists.
This follows from God being substance.
(It may be replied that God simply cannot be conceived -- this particular concept of God is impossible, because it involves a self-contradiction of some sort. If this is correct, then God is not conceived in itself, since God is not conceived at all, properly speaking. I have no comment on this at the moment. Also, I have been far too brief and contrived on the third point, but I am relatively confident that any reasonable definition of God is going to end up saying that God is a substance, not a mode of some other substance. At any rate, my goal is not to be exhaustive on any point, but to provide the analysis in outline.)
1. All things that have being are either conceived only in themselves or conceived in another.
For example, John Smith is not conceived in himself; rather, he is conceived in human being and in the Smith family, that he is 5'8" is conceived in extension, etc. Extension as such, on the other hand, does not seem to be conceived in anything else; it is conceived in itself. We might call that which is conceived in itself a "substance" and that which is conceived in another a "mode."
2. It belongs to the nature of substance to exist.
Let us attempt to conceive of a substance as non-existent. In what would we be conceiving it? If we say we are conceiving it in itself, but are claiming that it does not exist, we are claiming to conceive it in non-being, in nothing; this is absurd. But if we say we are conceiving it in something else, then it is not a substance at all; it is a mode. Thus, a substance necessarily exists.
3. If God exists, God is substance.
God is not conceived in another, for God is not dependent and contingent being, but rather maximally great and the ground of all being. Instead, God is conceived in godself, i.e., God is substance.
4. God necessarily exists.
This follows from God being substance.
(It may be replied that God simply cannot be conceived -- this particular concept of God is impossible, because it involves a self-contradiction of some sort. If this is correct, then God is not conceived in itself, since God is not conceived at all, properly speaking. I have no comment on this at the moment. Also, I have been far too brief and contrived on the third point, but I am relatively confident that any reasonable definition of God is going to end up saying that God is a substance, not a mode of some other substance. At any rate, my goal is not to be exhaustive on any point, but to provide the analysis in outline.)
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Sage and Browned Butter Ravioli
We had Sage and Browned Butter Ravioli for dinner tonight, it was our fourth recipe. I got it from my Taste of Home magazine.
Sage and Browned Butter Ravioli
1 pkg (20oz) ravioli
1/2 cup butter, cubed
1/2 cup coarsely chopped fresh sage
1/2 t salt
2 T lemon juice
1/4 cup shredded Parmesan cheese
Cook ravioli according to package directions. In a large heavy saucepan, melt butter over medium heat. Heat 5-7 minutes or until golden brown, stirring constantly. Immediately stir in sage and salt; remove from heat. Drain ravioli, reserving 2 T pasta water. Add ravioli, pasta water, and lemon juice to butter mixture; gently toss to coat. Serve with cheese.
This was an easy recipe to make and it turned out well, although I was worried that I had burned the butter because it got darker than golden brown way before I had cooked it for five minutes. But it ended up being quite delicious.
Morning Glories
Our morning glories are blooming! I was so excited to come home last night and see this beauty. Joshua took these photos earlier in the day.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Microwave Potato Chips
Our third recipe was Microwave Potato Chips. These tasted pretty good, but we had some difficulties with them. First, they did stick to the pan, although I wiped it generously with oil. Also, it was hard to get the timing right, we had batches come out overdone and some underdone with less or more cooking time. I'm sure part of that had to do with the difference in thickness, it is difficult to slice potatoes thinly and have them come out even. Plus the fact that the batches were so small and it took quite awhile to get through all of them. Anyway, they was pretty good, but probably not worth it.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Shrimp Fajitas
We had Shrimp Fajitas for dinner tonight, our second recipe. These were pretty easy to make and tasty. I got the recipe from Taste of Home.
Shrimp Fajitas
1 lb. uncooked medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 T plus 2 t olive oil, divided
4 T minced fresh cilantro, divided
1/8 t chili powder
1/8 t ground cumin
1 cup fat-free sour cream
1 large onion, halved and thinly sliced
1 each medium sweet red and green pepper, cut into strips
8 flour tortillas, warmed
1/2 cup salsa
In a large bowl, toss the shrimp with 1 T olive oil, 2 T cilantro, chili powder, and cumin; let stand 10 minutes. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the sour cream and remaining cilantro.
In a large nonstick skillet coated with cooking spray, heat 1 t oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and peppers, cook and stir until crisp-tender. Remove from the skillet and set aside.
In the same skillet, heat remaining oil over medium-high heat. Add the shrimp; cook and stir until shrimp turn pink. Return the onion mixture to the skillet; heat through. Serve with tortillas, salsa, and sour cream mixture.
We, of course, substituted plain yogurt for the sour cream and I also sprinkled the onions and peppers with a little salt and pepper while they were cooking. The fajitas were delicious.
Friday, September 13, 2013
Chocolate Rum Pots
We tried our first recipe of the third three months today, Chocolate Rum Pots. I got this recipe from my What's Cooking Chocolate cookbook. I think this was the first time I've actually tried a recipe from it; usually I just look through it and feel inspired and crave chocolate.
Chocolate Rum Pots
8 oz dark chocolate
4 eggs, separated
1/3 cup caster (superfine) sugar
4 T dark rum
4 T heavy whipping cream
Melt the chocolate and leave to cool slightly. Whisk the eggs yolks with the caster sugar in a bowl until very pale and fluffy; this will take about 5 minutes. Drizzle the chocolate into the mixture and fold in together with the rum and heavy cream. Whisk the egg whites in a grease-free bowl until standing in soft peaks. Fold the egg whites into the chocolate mixture in 2 batches. Divide mixture between 6 ramekins or other individual dishes. Leave to chill for at least 2 hours. To serve, decorate with a little whipped cream and small chocolate shapes.
I used regular sugar and 1% milk instead of caster sugar and heavy cream, but that seemed to work out. I whipped the egg whites first while my bowl was clean, then put them aside in a different dish and they held up just fine. These were pretty easy to make, although I got a lot of dishes dirty. The end result was light and fluffy and quite tasty.
TC Fair
We met up with the family at the fair after I got off work yesterday. As Joshua was looking up directions, he discovered that on Thursday you could bring five canned food items and get free admittance. So we looked through the cabinets and found exactly ten cans of food, what a deal!
The kids (and Heather) went on some of the rides.
Emery got to try cotton candy for the first time. She didn't seem particularly impressed.
And we tried a deep fried snickers. It was good, but mostly as a novelty. A regular candy bar is better in my opinion.
We paid fifty cents to see this big boy, a 1000 lb pig. Then we looked at the paintings, photographs, bonsai trees, and quilts before heading home.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Second Three Months
Another three months and thirty recipes are finished, halfway through the year. This quarter was a bit more challenging just because I occasionally had a hard time finding recipes and we had more busy weekends during the summer. But we found a number of good recipes that we think are worth keeping. Here's what we tried:
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Canning Salsa
Finally. Gayle and I went to visit Carol on Monday and we picked tomatoes in her garden. I have been hoping all summer to get some tomatoes to can, so I was pretty excited. On Saturday, I went jogging with Heather, then we braved the spiders (and mostly just spiderwebs) to pick the tomatoes on her plants. I added a couple tomatoes from our plant and ended up with a total of about five pounds. I made a third of this salsa recipe, using the seasoning recipe to make ours from scratch. This was also our thirtieth for the second three months.
We ended up with five half pints, with just a little left that we tried with lunch today. It was pretty tasty.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Cabbage Salsa and Cocktails
We made recipes twenty-eight and twenty-nine for dinner last night, Cabbage Salsa and Sea Breeze Cocktail. Both were delicious. I have been craving cabbage salsa lately and was quite pleased when this recipe was easy to make and tasted great. We also grilled up some fish, added the salsa, and had some great, but simple, fish tacos. The cocktails were a refreshing complement to the meal.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Pumpkin Smoothie
We had Pumpkin Smoothie for an afternoon snack today, recipe twenty-seven. It was tasty. It was pretty thin, I think I would like it a little thicker, maybe add ice or a banana like the recipe suggested. But we enjoyed them.
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Miracle, part 3
In the previous two posts concerning miracles, I was operating under a definition of miracles given by St. Thomas: "those things
must properly be called miraculous which are done by divine power apart from the order
generally followed in things." I took the "order generally followed in things" in a strict sense: whatever activity is in the nature of things, considered in the generality. The moments following the big bang, though singular so far as we know, follow on the order of things, so are non-miraculous; if a prior people took them to be miracles, they were simply mistaken by virtue of their ignorance.We may call this an "ontic theory" of miracles: the category "miracle" identifies an ontic phenomenon.
There is, however, another way to understand miracles. If the "order generally followed in things" refers not to the nature of things but to our understanding of them, then the miraculous is that which is done by divine power apart from what we know of how things generally operate. We may call this an "epistemic theory" of miracles: the category "miracle" identifies an epistemic phenomenon.
St. Augustine argues that if we discover in some thing whose nature is known to us an alteration or variation in its properties, this is nevertheless not contrary to nature. He quotes from the scholar Marcus Varro, then analyzes the passage:
"[Varro:] 'There occurred a remarkable celestial portent; for Castor records that, in the brilliant star Venus, called Vesperugo by Plautus, and the lovely Hesperus by Homer, there occurred so strange a prodigy, that it changed its color, size, form, course, which never happened before nor since. Adrastus of Cyzicus, and Dion of Naples, famous mathematicians, said that this occurred in the reign of Ogyges.'
So great an author as Varro would certainly not have called this a portent had it not seemed to be contrary to nature. For we say that all portents are contrary to nature; but they are not so. For how is that contrary to nature which happens by the will of God, since the will of so mighty a Creator is certainly the nature of each created thing? A portent, therefore, happens not contrary to nature, but contrary to what we know as nature."
On this view, then, the term "miracle" marks an epistemic condition. As Spinoza puts it, "a miracle is an event of which the causes cannot be explained by the natural reason through a reference to ascertained workings of nature." This approach has several advantages with respect to the ontic theory.
In the first place, it solves the difficulty articulated in my first post on the subject, in which I observed that the ontic theory, while defending the possibility of miracles, entails that we should never believe a miracle to have happened. On the epistemic theory, we are always justified in believing a miracle to have happened when, after seeking to make a natural explanation, we are unable to do so.
Second, the epistemic theory solves the difficulty articulated in my second post on the subject, in which I observed that the ontic theory entails a contradiction in God. On the epistemic theory, every miracle is a consistent with and a confirmation of God's providential governance of the universe.
Third, the epistemic theory addresses a further difficulty with the ontic theory, which we might call the "poor watchmaker" problem. If a person makes a watch of great complexity and beauty, only it does not accomplish the timekeeping for which it was made such that its designer must periodically step in and correct its clockwork mechanism, we would rightly conclude that this clockmaker is poor in power and knowledge. So with God on the ontic theory of miracles (though the example would have to be adjusted, for God's creative work includes conservation). Spinoza articulates this eloquently. "Nor is there any sound reason for limiting the power and efficacy of nature, and asserting that her laws are fit for certain purposes, but not for all; for as the efficacy and power of nature, are the very efficacy and power of God, and as the laws and rules of nature are the decrees of God, it is in every way to be believed that the power of nature is infinite, and that her laws are broad enough to embrace everything conceived by the Divine intellect; the only alternative is to assert that God has created nature so weak, and has ordained for her laws so barren, that He is repeatedly compelled to come afresh to her aid if He wishes that she should be preserved, and that things should happen as He desires: a conclusion, in my opinion, very far removed from reason." The ontic theory seems to entail that the works of God are lacking, such that a violation of them is needful. The epistemic theory, on the contrary, takes every miracle as a testament to God's incredible omnipotence and omniscience.
On the epistemic view, therefore, every miracle is, in the words of St. Augustine, an opportunity to offer praise to "God, who made the world full of countless miracles in sky, earth, air, and waters, while itself is a miracle unquestionably greater and more admirable than all the marvels it is filled with."
There is, however, another way to understand miracles. If the "order generally followed in things" refers not to the nature of things but to our understanding of them, then the miraculous is that which is done by divine power apart from what we know of how things generally operate. We may call this an "epistemic theory" of miracles: the category "miracle" identifies an epistemic phenomenon.
St. Augustine argues that if we discover in some thing whose nature is known to us an alteration or variation in its properties, this is nevertheless not contrary to nature. He quotes from the scholar Marcus Varro, then analyzes the passage:
"[Varro:] 'There occurred a remarkable celestial portent; for Castor records that, in the brilliant star Venus, called Vesperugo by Plautus, and the lovely Hesperus by Homer, there occurred so strange a prodigy, that it changed its color, size, form, course, which never happened before nor since. Adrastus of Cyzicus, and Dion of Naples, famous mathematicians, said that this occurred in the reign of Ogyges.'
So great an author as Varro would certainly not have called this a portent had it not seemed to be contrary to nature. For we say that all portents are contrary to nature; but they are not so. For how is that contrary to nature which happens by the will of God, since the will of so mighty a Creator is certainly the nature of each created thing? A portent, therefore, happens not contrary to nature, but contrary to what we know as nature."
On this view, then, the term "miracle" marks an epistemic condition. As Spinoza puts it, "a miracle is an event of which the causes cannot be explained by the natural reason through a reference to ascertained workings of nature." This approach has several advantages with respect to the ontic theory.
In the first place, it solves the difficulty articulated in my first post on the subject, in which I observed that the ontic theory, while defending the possibility of miracles, entails that we should never believe a miracle to have happened. On the epistemic theory, we are always justified in believing a miracle to have happened when, after seeking to make a natural explanation, we are unable to do so.
Second, the epistemic theory solves the difficulty articulated in my second post on the subject, in which I observed that the ontic theory entails a contradiction in God. On the epistemic theory, every miracle is a consistent with and a confirmation of God's providential governance of the universe.
Third, the epistemic theory addresses a further difficulty with the ontic theory, which we might call the "poor watchmaker" problem. If a person makes a watch of great complexity and beauty, only it does not accomplish the timekeeping for which it was made such that its designer must periodically step in and correct its clockwork mechanism, we would rightly conclude that this clockmaker is poor in power and knowledge. So with God on the ontic theory of miracles (though the example would have to be adjusted, for God's creative work includes conservation). Spinoza articulates this eloquently. "Nor is there any sound reason for limiting the power and efficacy of nature, and asserting that her laws are fit for certain purposes, but not for all; for as the efficacy and power of nature, are the very efficacy and power of God, and as the laws and rules of nature are the decrees of God, it is in every way to be believed that the power of nature is infinite, and that her laws are broad enough to embrace everything conceived by the Divine intellect; the only alternative is to assert that God has created nature so weak, and has ordained for her laws so barren, that He is repeatedly compelled to come afresh to her aid if He wishes that she should be preserved, and that things should happen as He desires: a conclusion, in my opinion, very far removed from reason." The ontic theory seems to entail that the works of God are lacking, such that a violation of them is needful. The epistemic theory, on the contrary, takes every miracle as a testament to God's incredible omnipotence and omniscience.
On the epistemic view, therefore, every miracle is, in the words of St. Augustine, an opportunity to offer praise to "God, who made the world full of countless miracles in sky, earth, air, and waters, while itself is a miracle unquestionably greater and more admirable than all the marvels it is filled with."
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