We skied this Thanksgiving, as we did last year, in Canada. It snows there, you see, and it does so earlier there than it does here in the states.
Holy moly, did it ever snow this year. It snowed enough to open Whistler early, and then it snowed a lot more.
We got up there Friday morning, and found ourselves waiting in impressive lift lines. More than an hour after entering our first line, we got to ski. It was clear that the snow was drier and deeper than we’d thought; two lifts later, it was much deeper than we thought, and the hunt was on.
One of my favorite pieces our high-school director selected for our symphonic band was ‘Whatsoever Things‘, composed by Mark Camphouse. It has everything a young trumpet player could love: drama, risk, depth, wide dynamic range, beautiful brass chorales, and, critically, soaring solos.
While the score shaped my musical life, what’s mattered more in adult life has been the title. Whatsoever Things are the first two words of a biblical passage, Phillipians 4:8. Though I’m not religious, it has stuck with me since.
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.
In both science and personal life, I generally shorten it in my mind to, “Whatsoever things are true, … think on these things.”, but the full passage has more to say. It is a dogged pursuit of things that are true that seems to guide my work, even when it comes at a cost.
Tonight, too many times this year, ‘whatsoever things’ resonates.
A week ago, I touched the casing of a B-61 nuclear weapon, an object created by humans with a yield as much as 20 times that of the bomb dropped at Hiroshima. It’s as large in diameter as a big dinner plate, and twice as long as a water heater.