Father Richard Rohr describes how nature reflects and reveals the wisdom and presence of the Divine:
In the backyard of our Center for Action and Contemplation in Albuquerque, a massive 150-year-old Rio Grande cottonwood tree spreads its gnarled limbs over the lawn. An arborist once told us that the tree might have a mutation that causes the huge trunks to make such circuitous turns and twists. One wonders how it stands so firmly, yet the cottonwood is easily the finest work of art that we have at the Center, and its asymmetrical beauty makes it a perfect specimen for one of our organization’s core messages: Divine perfection is precisely the ability to include what seems like imperfection. Before we come inside to pray, work, or teach any theology, its giant presence has already spoken a silent sermon over us.
Have you ever had an encounter like this in nature? Perhaps for you, it occurred at a lake or by the seashore, hiking in the mountains, in a garden listening to a mourning dove, even at a busy street corner. I am convinced that when received, such innate theology grows us, expands us, and enlightens us almost effortlessly. All other God talk seems artificial and heady in comparison.
Indigenous religions largely understand this, as do the Scriptures (see Psalms 98, 104, 148, or Daniel 3:57–82 [1]). In Job 12:7–10, and most of Job 38–39, YHWH praises strange animals and elements for their inherently available wisdom—the “pent up sea,” the “wild ass,” the “ostrich’s wing”—reminding humans that we’re part of a much greater ecosystem, which offers lessons in all directions.
God is not bound by the human presumption that we are the center of everything, and creation did not actually demand or need Jesus (or us, for that matter) to confer additional sacredness upon it. From the first moment of the Big Bang, nature was revealing the glory and goodness of the Divine Presence. Jesus came to live in its midst, and enjoy life in all its natural variations, and thus be our model and exemplar. Jesus is the gift that honored the gift, we might say.
Strangely, many Christians today limit God’s provident care to humans, and very few of them at that. How different we are from Jesus, who extended the divine generosity to sparrows, lilies, ravens, donkeys, the grasses of the fields (Luke 12:24, 27–28). No stingy God here! But what stinginess on our side made us limit God’s concern—even eternal concern—to just ourselves? If God chooses and doles out care, we are always insecure and unsure whether we’re among the lucky recipients. Yet once we become aware of the generous, creative Presence that exists in all things by their very nature, we can honor the Indwelling Spirit as the inner Source of all dignity and worthiness. Dignity is not doled out to the supposedly worthy; it grounds the inherent worthiness of things in their very nature and existence.
References:
[1] This apocryphal passage is included in Catholic but not in Protestant Bibles.
Adapted from Richard Rohr, The Universal Christ: How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything We See, Hope for, and Believe (Convergent, 2021), 55–57; “God Is Not Only ‘Over There,’” Daily Meditations, April 18, 2021.
Image Credit and inspiration: YS Santonii, Untitled (detail), 2023, photo, USA, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. We gently receive nature in new ways, perhaps by tenderly touching and gazing to see a new detail.
Story from Our Community:
I began my spiritual journey many years ago, but I never felt a deep connection with Nature. That changed with a flight in a single-engine plane over the Serengeti with my son, a bush pilot. The sound of the engine was deafening as I was suddenly overcome by the beauty below me. I felt immense gratitude and I heard a calm, inner voice say, “You are not an observer here. You are part of this, like a molecule in an entity.” I wish everyone can experience the same reassurance of our deep connection with each other and the earth.
—Ellie M.
