At some point in life, most of us start asking the big questions — Why am I here? What is all this for? When we look for answers, we often turn in two directions: science and faith. Science gives us insight into how things work — the mechanics of stars, cells, and atoms. Faith, on the other hand, speaks to why things exist at all. For anyone who feels that both perspectives matter, and that truth might lie where these two worlds meet, All Creation, Loved into Existence by Dr. Louis Canella is a book worth sitting with.
I first picked it up because Louis’s wife is a friend of mine. I knew of his background as a psychiatrist and his lifelong curiosity about the natural and spiritual worlds, but I didn’t expect the depth and elegance of this work. What he’s written is both profoundly intellectual and deeply human — a reflection on existence itself, written by someone who has spent his life exploring both the mind and the soul.
I should mention up front — this post is going to be a bit longer than my usual reflections. All Creation, Loved into Existence isn’t a book you breeze through. It’s rich, layered, and filled with ideas that invite you to slow down. In fact, it took me a full year to finish — not because it’s difficult, but because it deserves to be read that way. I often found myself pausing, rereading, and sitting quietly to absorb what he was really saying.
It’s clear from the outset this book is written from the worldview of a devout Catholic. For readers who may not share that background, I’d encourage you to read with patience and curiosity. There is wisdom and beauty in this book that transcends differences. If you can look past any theological divergences and simply engage with the ideas, you’ll find a depth of insight that speaks to something universal — our shared longing to understand why we exist, and what love has to do with it.
Dr. Canella writes with a rare clarity that mirrors his intellect. He doesn’t use complex language to impress; he simply thinks deeply and invites you along for the journey. His lifelong interest in physics, chemistry, biology, psychology, philosophy, and religion gives his writing both breadth and grounding. He moves effortlessly between scientific explanation and spiritual reflection, showing that these perspectives need not be in conflict. Instead, when seen together, they reveal a more complete picture of reality.
In one early passage, Canella observes:
“What has brought us into being must be greater than ourselves, possessing at least the order which makes us human. It must transcend our personhood, since we cannot bring ourselves into existence.”
That line captures his essential argument — that the cause of existence cannot be explained by what already exists within it. The universe, in all its beauty and complexity, points beyond itself.
He expands on this with scientific precision and spiritual reverence:
“That organizing principle that brought this universe into existence in its present form would have to be external to what was present at the very beginning, giving shape to what would follow.”
He’s not rejecting science; he’s enlarging it — suggesting that scientific discovery and faith are two languages describing the same truth. “Science provides only explanations for what matter does,” he writes, “but the order that the laws describe cannot be their cause.”
One of the passages I marked with four stars in my book (a rarity for me) comes from his overview chapter:
“From a religious perspective, contemplating the world around us, embracing and understanding the science which delves into its mysteries, and going beyond the concepts to see it in the light of Jesus Christ reaching down and shaping the cosmos, we discover the universe to be a divine work of poetic artistry, spoken into existence through the creative work of God.”
That’s the kind of line you read more than once — first to grasp it, and again and again to feel it. What struck me most was his choice of words: poetic artistry. He sees creation not merely as a mechanism, but as a masterpiece — something both ordered and alive with meaning.
Throughout the book, he continually reminds us that our search for truth is also a spiritual instinct:
“It is in our spiritual nature to seek the truth. Although science teaches us about the natural world, it cannot help us in our understanding of the supernatural, the context in which the entire universe sits and is the source of its existence.”
That kind of writing doesn’t just invite reflection — it demands it. You begin to realize that to understand reality fully, you have to look upward, not just inward. As he beautifully puts it:
“There exists an overriding order, not to be found by digging deeper into what constitutes our physical makeup, but by looking upwards to what we are part of.”
Canella’s faith doesn’t clash with his respect for science. In fact, he insists that faith and science complete each other:
“Although today’s description of our biosphere’s formation is far more elaborate and detailed than that contained in Genesis, there is nothing in any of this that would challenge one’s faith in God and creation.”
That single sentence bridges one of the great divides of modern life — the imagined conflict between belief and evidence. For him, both belong in the same conversation about truth.
And beneath all his reasoning lies one unshakable conviction: that everything exists because it is loved.
“Regardless of our potential and what we manage to do with it, we all possess a dignity that comes from our being loved into existence by God.”
That line lingers. It’s not just theology — it’s identity. It reframes existence itself as a gift, and love as the force that sustains it.
By the time he reaches the final chapter, his ideas have built to a quiet crescendo. The last passage in the book brings it all home:
“God who loves everything into existence created humankind that we may share in His love and glory. To do so, to love, requires the capacity to make a choice, to willingly give of oneself for the good of the other and to have faith, to trust in Him as we emerge from the darkness into the light of His Word, step by step.”
That’s not just a conclusion — it’s an invitation. To love, to trust, to live as beings called into existence by love itself.
By the time I finished All Creation, Loved into Existence, I realized it wasn’t just a book I had read; it was an experience I had lived with for a year. It challenged my thinking, deepened my faith, and renewed my sense of awe for the world around me.
Dr. Louis Canella has written something remarkable — a bridge between science and faith, intellect and wonder, analysis and devotion. For anyone who’s ever wrestled with the big questions or searched for meaning in a world that can feel increasingly mechanical, this book offers a gentle reminder: that everything — every atom, every life, every heartbeat — exists because of love.
And when you start to see life that way, the world looks very different indeed.
Closing Thoughts
If you ever find yourself searching for meaning — wondering how science, faith, and love might all fit together — I can’t recommend this book enough. Don’t rush through it. Read a few pages, pause, think, and let it sink in. That’s how it’s meant to be read. All Creation, Loved into Existence isn’t just about the origin of the universe; it’s about the origin of you — and the realization that your very existence is an act of love.
