One day I was buying a Philly cheesesteak at a sandwich shop and asked for Swiss cheese with no holes. The sandwich maker looked at me like I had a plant growing out of my head. "It's Swiss. It has holes," the sandwich maker said.
"Just joking with you," I said.
I have a tween. She lives between childhood and teenhood. Her reasoning is akin to Swiss cheese: holes. There's a lot there but there's a lot she doesn't know, yet she seems to think she does.
Perhaps we, too, living in these times, are tweens. We live between what we think we know and what we do not. Our culture and our own emergent understanding between modern and postmodern times is like Swiss cheese: we thought for centuries we knew but we're finding more holes in our reasoning.
Like my daughter, we often fall through those holes in our reasoning. But we're also finding more joy than we ever thought possible in realizing that we humans must not bear the weight of knowing all things, because we don't.
May we learn to live with Swiss cheese, because the sandwich maker says he ain't got none without holes.
10:12:11 AM 
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