Mystery Within Creation
Job 12:7-10 Acts 17:16-29
Third Sunday of Easter/ Earth Sunday
I spent most of yesterday outside. It was the perfect place to be and the perfect day to be there - clear blue skies with temperatures in the upper 70’s and a nice breeze blowing. It was a great day to be doing anything outside, but I found myself out there with the purpose of helping some young folks look for signs of God, of the Spirit, or of anything that would give a clue about the mystery that we call “God.” We managed to find some things, but often the things we saw and noticed just served to emphasize how very mysterious the presence of God really is in our lives and experiences. When we attempted to make the connection between God and what we saw, it was difficult to impossible to put into words.
Sometimes when I am outside in the natural world, I feel a deep sense of connection, as if I am an integral part of everything out there. I feel as if the birds are speaking to me, the breeze is blowing just right, the sun is smiling down on me and that all is well. But there are other times when I feel almost the opposite, when I feel as though nothing is right, when I am disconnected from everything else, kind of an alien being in a world where everything else fits. I have felt that way when I read news about how the environment is in crisis, when I hear arguments about global warming, and whether or not we humans actually play a role in creating it and more to the point, whether anything we do could possibly change the direction we are heading.
I try to do my best in terms of not contributing to the problems, and yet I am still complicit. I still drive to work in a larger car than I really need. I like to have lights on in my home at night. I enjoy the convenience of having my own laptop computer. I live in a house that is larger than my family really requires. I eat food that is not local or seasonal just because I want to, and I can. I live with far more luxury than 80% or more of the world’s population, and am not really willing to give up what I have. So when I face this reality of who I am and the choices I make every day, then I am aware that I am putting distance between myself and the natural world, between myself and other people who live with far less than I depend on. And I wonder if these choices also make it more difficult for me to stay close to God. What is clear is that we who have so many choices spread out before us are automatically distanced from those who have few or no choices.
When Paul and the others were in Athens, as we read in Acts this morning, they were amazed and a bit frustrated by the vast array of idols they saw depicted in bronze and stone - sculpted so that people might pay tribute to them as they passed by. Paul was angered because to him there was only one God, and he saw all of those statues as contributing to the confusion people felt when they attempted to think about matters of faith. It is easy to do the right thing when you don’t have a choice, but when choice enters into the mix, then you can easily get into trouble. But instead of lecturing the people about their ignorance and the waste of having so many statues that purported to depict certain gods, he instead found that there was one monument that was dedicated to the “unknown god.” He knew that if he could talk about the one God that the people of Athens did not yet know, and help them to see the power and potency of this one God, then the people might very well turn away from all of the other lesser gods and goddesses, and find their way to the One God, Yahweh. But it can be hard convincing people to follow something they cannot see. It can be difficult to help them gain the strength to turn away from a system that, while not perfect, seems to be working pretty well under most circumstances.
I think a part of what convinced the people of Athens to listen, is that Paul touched a chord in them when he spoke of the mysterious God to whom they had built a shrine even though they did not yet know who it was, the attributes or qualities. There was something in those people that was hungry for something more, for something they had not yet found, for a need they had not yet fulfilled. I really relate to their having built that monument to the unknown god. I understand what it is like to crave something deeper, something more out of life and faith. I think many of us do, if we are honest with ourselves. We are looking for something that asks a little more of us than the usual, something that draws on a deeper sense of who we are and what we have come into the world to accomplish.
When I go out into the natural world - whether it is the meadow or the woods, or the clearing near our pond, I sense that I am being called into this deeper place. And I think that when I make choices that harm the earth or those that are not the healthiest choices for my body, then I am choosing to keep some distance between myself and the depth that is possible and patiently waiting. In our reading from Job this morning, we hear that the animals and birds, the fish and the earth itself are standing by ready and willing to point to us the way that leads to this depth of being, and consequently, to a stronger relationship with our God. There is wisdom to be found in the natural world, wisdom that points us toward God and along the path of growing faith. But often it is the kind of wisdom that has no words. We can try. We can attempt to create prayers or psalms that express our gratitude and our sense of connection with all that is, but we often fall short of saying just what we hope to say. We may create something beautiful and even inspiring, but even as we complete it, and even as we speak it, we know that we have not quite attained our goal of making clear the feelings that are swirling around in our hearts and souls. Still, it is good to try. It is good to at least make the attempt and risk failing miserably, rather than to stay safely shut off from our own depths, and the depths of faith.
I suppose this is what I am inviting us all to do today, I am inviting us to make the effort and take the risk that faith asks of us. I am inviting us to step out into the larger world with our faith in this mysterious God and our sense of connection with the wider world which is also a mystery to us; and simply take the risk of reaching out. Take the risk of noticing the small things that make up the world around us and shape the daily round. Notice the gifts of sunrise and shadow, of birdsong and dandelion leaves, of squirrel chatter and frog calls, of spring breezes and fresh water. If you take time, really take time to notice and say a little prayer of thanks for these things as they cross your path, it can shift the way you see the world in a very short amount of time. Soon you will see more beauty and less ugliness, you will notice more kindness and less selfishness. The changes will happen in you and in your surroundings. Its one of those mysteries how it happens, I just know that it does.
I think this is the whole point of prayer, really; not just that prayer sends our thoughts and desires out to God, but that prayer changes us. It changes the way we see things and feel about things. Our attitude as we look out at the world and at others, shapes our experience of the world. If we embrace the earth with care and compassion, then we will make sustainable choices. We won’t be able to stop ourselves, it will just become a part of who we are and of how we are in the world. Personally, I would love to see this happen. I’d love to see us, one-by-one, change the way we see things and do things, change the way we are in the world, so that eventually we will change the whole world for the better.
Creating God, we give thanks for this world in which we live. We give thanks for the abundant diversity we encounter every day - for birds of all colors, with their variety of songs, for flowers blooming in gardens, fields and woods. We give thanks for friends who compliment our lives in such different ways and who are present for us just when we need them the most. We give thanks for the small things that we notice and the recognition that blessing is everywhere, if we only tune ourselves in. In the name of the One who brought so many gifts alive in the world we pray, Amen.