Seeing Creation

As I have noted numerous times in the past, seeing God in Creation does not necessarily come easy for us.  A group of people might walk the same trail and see the same things but that does not mean that all of them, or any, will experience or see God.  I am convinced that there has to be both an openness and a desire to see God in Creation for this to happen on a regular basis.  Likewise, I am confident that there is no better way to prepare oneself to see or experience God in nature than prayer.  With this in mind, I’d like to commend to you today a prayer I discovered in John Baillie’s little book, A Diary of Private Prayer.  It reads:

“Creator Spirit, who broodest everlastingly over the lands and waters of the earth, enduing them with forms and colors which no human skill can copy, give me today, I beseech Thee, the mind and heart to rejoice in Thy creation.  Forbid that I should walk through Thy beautiful world with unseeing eyes: Forbid that the lure of the market-place should ever entirely steal my heart away from the love of the open acres and the green trees:  Forbid that under the low roof of workshop or office or study I should ever forget Thy great overarching sky:  Forbid that when all Thy creatures are greeting the morning with songs and shouts of joy, I alone should wear a dull and sullen face: Let the energy and vigor which in Thy wisdom Thou has infused into every living thing stir today within my being, that I may not be among Thy creatures as a sluggard and a drone:  And above all give me grace to use these beauties of earth without me and this eager stirring of life within me as a means whereby my soul may rise from creature to Creator, and from nature to nature’s God.”

I cannot help but believe that if we offered a prayer such as this on a regular basis it would be of great benefit to us.  The Bible would seem to affirm this.  In the Book of James we read “You do not have, because you do not ask God.” (4:2)   Also, Jesus taught, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Matthew 7:7-8)

I encourage all those wanting to see and experience God in His Creation to remember the importance of prayer in this endeavor.  All my life I have heard people say, “prayer changes things.”  This is no doubt true; it even changes how we see nature or Creation.

–Chuck

(I took both of the pictures above at Big South Fork National River and Recreation Area in Tennessee.)

One of the primary reasons Rob and I started this blog site over three years ago was to help people see God in and through His Creation.  Both the Old and New Testament teach us that God makes Himself known through the world He has made.  Our lives are enriched spiritually by contact with nature.  Creation is, in fact, one of God’s primary ways of speaking to us.

This past week, while reading Psalm 36, I was reminded that Creation also helps us speak to God.  Pay close attention to the references to nature used in the Psalmist’s prayer: “Your love, O Lord, reaches to the heavens, your faithfulness to the skies.  Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your justice like the great deep.  O Lord, you preserve both man and beast.  How priceless is your unfailing love!  Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.  They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights.  For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.” (vs. 5-9)

Here we see how nature not only reveals God to us but also gives us a means by which to speak of God’s greatness and our experience of Him.  Whether we are speaking directly to God in prayer or talking about God to others nature equips us with metaphors and images that enable us to describe more adequately our feelings.  The sky helps us describe the great scope of God’s love.  The mighty mountains give us a way to portray God’s righteousness. The ocean depths illustrate the extent of God’s justice. The wings of a bird provide us with a way to depict God’s protection.  God’s storehouse of treasures can be conveyed as a river of delights.  The gift of life itself can be viewed as a fountain.

There are certainly many other places in the Scriptures where nature helps give the biblical writers the words they need to pray to, or speak about, God.  At times you get the impression they would have been lost for words had it not been for what they saw in Creation.  Even Jesus asked us to “consider the lilies” and to “look at the birds” (Matthew 6) when attempting to teach us not to worry and to trust God to take care of our needs.  The apostle Paul, likewise, used imagery of nature throughout his letters to speak of the things of God.  He used things like trees, seeds, and fruit to convey his message.

We are invited to follow in the steps of Jesus, Paul, and the other biblical writers.  We, too, can use our observations of nature to help us pray and to speak about God.   Creation can become like a dictionary for us, providing just the right word we need to express our praise or to convey our thoughts about God.  If you’re not used to doing this I encourage you to give it a try.  You will soon discover that there is no shortage of possibilities.  Why, there are as many possibilities as there are stars in the sky or grains of sand on the shore or fish in the sea or ____________  (you fill in the blank).

–Chuck

(I took the top image of the Pacific Ocean at Point Reyes National Seashore in California; the middle image of the Russell Fork River at Breaks Interstate Park in Kentucky; and the bottom image of Mount McKinley and Wonder Lake at Denali National Park in Alaska.)

A friend at church, knowing my interest in Native American history and religion, recently suggested I read Black Elk Speaks.   According to the book’s back cover, this work “is widely hailed as a religious classic, one of the best spiritual books of the modern era and the bestselling book of all time by an American Indian.”  I enjoyed reading Black Elk’s story and certainly learned a lot from it.  I’m not convinced, however, it should be called a “religious classic” nor “one of the best spiritual books of the modern era.”  Still, one can learn a good bit about Native American spirituality by reading it.  I was especially touched by two prayers offered by Black Elk.

One is found in the early pages of the book and says, “Grandfather, Great Spirit, you have been always, and before you no one has been.  There is no other one to pray to but you.  You yourself, everything that you see, everything has been made by you.  The star nation all over the universe you have finished.  The four quarters of the earth you have finished.  Grandfather, Great Spirit, lean close to the earth that you may hear the voice I send. You towards where the sun goes down, behold me; Thunder Beings, behold me!  You where the White Giant lives in power, behold me!  You where the sun shines continually, whence come the daybreak star and the day, behold me!  You where the summer lives, behold me!  You in the depths of the heavens, an eagle of power, behold!  And you, Mother Earth, the only Mother, you who have shown mercy to your children!  Hear me, four quarters of the world—a relative I am!  Give me the strength to walk the soft earth, a relative to all that is!  Give me the eyes to see and the strength to understand, that I may be like you.  With your power only can I face the winds.”

The second prayer comes at the very end of the book.  In this one Black Elk prays: “Grandfather, Great Spirit, once more behold me on earth and lean to hear my feeble voice.  You lived first, and you are older than all need, older than all prayer.  All things belong to you—the two-leggeds, the four-leggeds, the wings of the air and all green things that live.  You have set the powers of the four quarters to cross each other.  The good road and the road of difficulties you have made to cross; and where they cross, the place is holy.  Day in and day out, forever, you are the life of things.  Therefore I am sending a voice, Great Spirit, my Grandfather, forgetting nothing you have made, the stars of the universe and the grasses of the earth.”

I appreciate the way that Black Elk incorporated the earth into his prayers.  I fear that this is not very common in Christian prayer.  You would think that those who acknowledge God as the “Maker of heaven and earth,” and whose Lord encouraged them to pray “thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” would be more prone to remember the earth in their prayers.  I think we might all benefit from following Black Elk’s lead by including the earth and its creatures in our prayers, by being more conscious of the spiritual nature of all of Creation. This is a vital part of Native American spirituality and should be of ours as well.

–Chuck

(I took the top image at Badlands National Park in South Dakota, the middle image at Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area in Montana, and the bottom image at the National Bison Range in Wyoming.)

When Jesus entered Jerusalem the Sunday prior to his crucifixion the crowds enthusiastically welcomed him.  This welcome bothered the Pharisees.  They told Jesus to rebuke the crowd.  Jesus’ reply was, “I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” (Luke 19:40)  In the past I always understood this to mean that if the people ceased their praise then the rocks would have to cry out for them.  I’m thinking now that Jesus may have been reminding the Pharisees of what their very Scriptures declared—that all of Creation offers its praise to God.  Stopping people from praising God would hardly cease the flow of praise that ushers forth every day.  Last night while reading Mary Oliver’s “Morning Poem” I was reminded just how true this is.  Here’s how the poem goes:

“Every morning the world is created.  Under the orange sticks of the sun the heaped ashes of the night turn into leaves again and fasten themselves to the high branches—and the ponds appear like black cloth on which are painted islands of summer lilies.  If it is your nature to be happy you will swim away along the soft trails for hours, your imagination alighting everywhere.  And if your spirit carries within it the thorn that is heavier than lead—if it’s all you can do to keep on trudging—there is still somewhere deep within you a beast shouting that the earth is exactly what it wanted—each pond with its blazing lilies is a prayer heard and answered lavishly, every morning, whether or not you have ever dared to be happy, whether or not you have ever dared to pray.” 

I want to believe that what Mary writes is true.  I want to believe that we humans are not the only ones offering prayers to God each day.  I want to believe this for a variety of reasons.  One of the main reasons is I would find great comfort in knowing that when my “spirit carries within it the thorn that is heavier than lead,” and finds it hard to offer God the praise He deserves, that God still receives the praise He is due.  I confess that my spirit carries such a thorn now so hopefully there is a blazing lily out there somewhere that can help take up the slack for me.  That would be nice.

–Chuck

(I photographed the top lily last month in North Carolina and the bottom one in New Mexico in May.)

In recent days I have continued reading books related to Celtic Spirituality.  One book that I have enjoyed and profited from is called Celtic Benediction.  It is a small book put together by J. Philip Newell containing morning and night prayers, along with various selections of Scripture.  The book’s content is enhanced by illustrations of Celtic art taken from the Lindisfarne Gospels.

Early in the book there is a prayer that has become special to me.  It reads: “I watch this morning for the light that the darkness has not overcome.  I watch for the fire that was in the beginning and that burns still in the brilliance of the rising sun.  I watch for the glow of life that gleams in the growing earth and glistens in the sea and sky.  I watch for your light, O God, in the eyes of every living creature and in the ever-living flame of my own soul.  If the grace of seeing were mine this day I would glimpse you in all that lives.  Grant me the grace of seeing this day.  Grant me the grace of seeing.”

The connection of Christ and Creation is obvious throughout this prayer.  This is one of the hallmarks of Celtic Spirituality.  In my opinion it should be a hallmark of all forms of Christian Spirituality.  I have trouble comprehending how so many people miss this vital connection.  There is certainly no shortage of biblical passages to affirm its validity.

The prayer that I have shared is one I keep turning back to.  I want to make this my prayer as well.  I want to glimpse God “in all that lives.”  But as Newell intimates in the prayer, “the grace of seeing” does not come naturally.  It is a gift of God.  As such, we must ask for it.  And once given, this gift must be nurtured and developed.  This may sound like a lot of work but if the outcome is experiencing and seeing God in all of Creation, wouldn’t it be worth it?  Needless to say, it would be well worth it!  I encourage you to copy the prayer I’ve shared with you today on a card and make this your morning prayer in the days to come.  Don’t be surprised if you start seeing far more than you’re used to…

–Chuck

(I took the pictures illustrating today’s blog entry a couple of days ago at Roan Mountain State Park and along the Blue Ridge Parkway.)

“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights…” James 1:17

Yesterday I started reading Mary Oliver’s collection of poems called Thirst and came across a number of jewels.  One of my favorites thus far is called “Praying.”  Here she writes: “It doesn’t have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just pay attention, then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate, this isn’t a contest but the doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.”

This poem resonates with me because quite often it is the beauty and majesty of Creation that becomes for me “the doorway into thanks.”  When I see beautiful flowers I frequently find myself mouthing the words “thank you.”  When I have the opportunity to watch wildlife move about I often do the same.  When confronted by an exquisite landscape I have been known to break out in song singing the Doxology.  There is just something about the beauty of nature that leads me to prayer and thanksgiving.

In one of the classes I teach at church we were discussing yesterday how “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”   What one person views as beautiful another may not.  When I read Mary Oliver’s poems I get the impression she often finds beauty where many of us don’t.  In the poem noted above she mentions “weeds in a vacant lot” and “just a few stones” as being things that might lead one to prayer and thanksgiving.  Of course she also reminds us that to find beauty in such places we will have to “just pay attention.”   Paying attention is not a strong point for many of us.  We’re too busy or too preoccupied with other things to pay attention.

The failure to pay attention is detrimental to our health—both physically and spiritually.  If we don’t pay attention where we’re walking we could stumble and fall.  If we don’t pay attention to the world around us we might fail to encounter the God who often makes Himself known through His Creation.  It is very important that each of us strive to pay attention.

Paying attention will also help us pray better.  As we notice more of God’s blessings in the world around us we will find ourselves offering Him thanks more often.  We will increasingly find ourselves turning to the Source of all life, the Giver of all good gifts, more frequently.  This, of course, is why God made all that He made in the first place–to reveal His glory and to draw us closer to Himself.  He desires communion with us and has created a world that is intended to lead us to that sweet communion where we can offer Him our love and gratitude and put ourselves in a position where we might experience “a silence in which another voice [God’s voice] may speak.” 

Pay attention.

–Chuck

(I took the top image of ferns and violets this past Saturday at the Falls of the Stony in Viriginia.  I took the bottom picture at Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area in western Kentucky a few years ago.)