When I watched Ken Burn’s PBS series “The National Parks: America’s Best Idea” I was impressed with how many of those who championed these natural wonders saw in them the hand of the Creator, not just the raw forces of nature. Many were no doubt familiar with the biblical passage from Romans 1:

KEY SCRIPTURE:
The basic reality of God is plain enough. Open your eyes and there it is! By taking a long and thoughtful look at what God has created, people have always been able to see what their eyes as such can’t see: eternal power, for instance, and the mystery of His divine being (Romans 1:19-20 The Message).

The many ways we understand God’s eternal power and His right alone to be worshiped in what He has created can somewhat be experienced vicariously through pictures or words. Few people fail to be touched by a stunning photo of natural beauty or a gripping verbal description of natural events. But that’s not enough for our souls. To truly grasp creation’s meaning, one must experience it. Being in the wild highlights our finiteness, vulnerability, and our utter and complete dependence upon the creating and sustaining power of God.  And our national parks are ideal places for us experience this soul healing activity.

John Calvin called the natural world the “theater of God’s glory,” but it is even more than a theater; it’s a cathedral. And awareness of God’s holiness (His right alone to be worshiped) occurs only when we enter it with the right spirit. The word “cathedral” comes from the Latin term for “chair”: cathedra. Traditionally a cathedral is the sacred place where a church bishop has his chair of authority—his throne. While human bishops are supposed to keep us mindful of our stewardship role in the created order, too often the trappings and traditions of man hinder our capacity to hear the “still, small voice” of God inside our church buildings.

For that reason, it’s important for us to preserve and treasure the cathedral of wilderness where we see that God, the ultimate authority, is clearly on the throne and where His wordless revelation can still be clearly seen and understood (Romans 1:20). When truly attentive people enter the wild places, they immediately recognize the signs that this is sacred ground—a place where to them a flaming autumn maple is no less evidence of God’s miracle-working power and presence than the burning bush was to Moses.

Also important is for us to recognize that in the wilderness sanctuary we’re not alone in the impulse to worship. God’s other creatures worship there as well. As the prophets Isaiah and David remind us, all created things in their own nature respond to God—even trees, rivers, and mountains. (Isa. 55:12; Psa. 98:8) This amazing truth from the Old Testament is echoed in the Revelation where all God’s creatures are seen as worshiping the One who died in order that the cosmos may be redeemed: “Every creature which is in heaven and on the earth and under the earth and such as are in the sea, and all that are in them, I heard saying: ‘Blessing and honor and glory and power be to Him who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb [Jesus Christ], forever and ever!’” (Rev. 5:13)

Note in that passage how the apostle John explicitly includes the entire biosphere: creatures in the sky, on the earth, under the earth, on the sea, and in the sea. Imagine the scene: larks, dragonflies, rabbits, badgers, moles, trap-door spiders, Portugese men-of-war, sharks, and sea stars all attending to the Redeemer-Creator and singing!

Who says Narnia is fiction? Aslan is the Lion of Judah who will make things right! Think of the joy that will fill the Hundred-Acre Wood. Tigger will jump higher than ever and Eeyore, then the eternal optimist, will “bouncy-bounce” with him. Earth will be Peralandra, and Neverland will become Everland!

Let us repent of our sinful lack of compassion for the other creatures of the earth and of our lack of care for the marvelous handiwork of God that has faithfully given witness from the beginning of His divine nature and eternal power. With our hearts and with our hands, let us work toward the anticipated restoration of the good Earth. And allow this wonderful hymn, penned by a Hebrew psalmist some three thousand years ago, resound in our hearts whenever we worship in creation’s cathedral:

Praise the Lord from the heavens; praise Him in the heights! Praise Him, all His angels; praise Him, all His hosts! Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, all you stars of light! Praise Him, you heavens of heavens, and you waters above the heavens! Let them praise the name of the Lord, for He commanded and they were created. He also established them forever and ever; He made a decree which shall not pass away. Praise the Lord from the earth, you great sea creatures and all the depths; fire and hail, snow and clouds; stormy wind, fulfilling His word; mountains and all hills; fruitful trees and all cedars; beasts and all cattle; creeping things and flying fowl; kings of the earth and all peoples; princes and all judges of the earth; both young men and maidens; old men and children. Let them praise the name of the Lord, for His name alone is exalted; His glory is above the earth and heaven (Psalm 148:1-13).

Here is a good working definition of a “spiritual grace”: That which benefits our souls, motivates us toward worship, and connects us consciously (or perhaps even unconsciously) with the supernatural.

To begin to grasp the spiritual graces of natural places it’s important to begin with a tenet of orthodox Christianity: this is the biblical affirmation that people are made in the image of God. This belief holds that only humankind has this privilege—and this responsibility. Though there has never been a fully-agreed-upon articulation of the meaning of being created in God’s image, it’s generally accepted that it relates to people as being “uniquely gifted intellectually (and in many other ways) so that they may relate to God and to each other as they live as stewards of the world God has given them to manage.” [Evangelical Dictionary of Biblical Theology; Baker, 1996, p. 366] Being in God’s image likely includes conscious awareness of God, the capacity to love sacrificially, the ability to think and communicate in symbolic language, the freedom of choice, an aptitude for abstract reasoning, and the innate compulsion to know and then live by what is true materially and spiritually—then aligning one’s life with both realities.

Combining these two factors—the meaning of a spiritual grace/value and the understanding that mankind is uniquely made in the image of our Creator—we can arrive at this understanding of our relationship to the natural world:

People contemplate the natural world to derive from it truth about God—our supernatural Creator—and our role as stewards of what He has made. Awareness of such truth and then living in accord with it connects us consciously to the supernatural, brings health to our souls, compels us to the worship of our Creator, and moves us toward community with all creatures that share the natural world with us.

No doubt this deeper meaning of the wild is the reason people still read Henry David Thoreau’s Walden. How is it that many of the values and concerns of a man who was born almost 200 years ago still seem to ring true to us? The likely reason is that the real values and concerns of people have remained virtually unchanged from the beginning of human history. Modern technology, especially since the time of Thoreau, has allowed us to isolate and insulate ourselves from the realities of life we face in the wild natural places. For that reason one could conclude that we need such wilderness today far more than ever before.  Here is the way that Thoreau put it: “In wildness is the preservation of the world.”

KEY SCRIPTURE:
The LORD said [to Elijah], “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the LORD, for the LORD is about to pass by.”  Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave” (1 Kings 19:8-13)

Many would agree that all people need to discover the values offered by Thoreau and then later by John Muir. Without the wild to draw them out, however, we would be severely handicapped. We must never forget that there are critical life lessons taught us by the wilderness that cannot be adequately learned in any other setting. There we learn much about our Creator and there we find the silence and solitude that often let us hear the “gentle whisper” of the Holy Spirit.  Those who do not value the wild areas now available to them are a diminished people. And diminished people are poorly suited to make sound decisions about the fate of the earth’s dwindling wilderness areas—the regions of the globe that were featured in God’s reply to Job and his miserable comforters (Job 38-42).

Because I grew up in a Christian home and attended church all my life, I’ve gone on countless “retreats.” In a military sense, to retreat means to back away from the enemy. This is often done to prevent defeat and capture—with the ultimate aim to strengthen and reequip your own forces so you can once again go on the offensive and hopefully be victorious.

Churches, missions, and ministries sometimes use spiritual retreats for a similar purpose—to provide temporary escape from opposing physical and spiritual forces. Perhaps taking their cue from withdrawals into the wilderness mentioned in the Bible, some Christian ministries bring their people to attractive and remote natural areas for a retreat.

The wisdom of this is evident when we consider what we’re less likely to face in such places:

. . . personal multipliers of power
        (vehicles, motorized tools, electricity, and so forth)
. . . markets and marketers
. . . external temptations
. . . wrong or disordered values
. . . lying words
. . . too many voices to attend to
. . . too many people to relate to
. . . racial, ethnic, and gender tensions
. . . personal deception and pretense (masks)
. . . meaningless entertainment
. . . an overload of news (information)
. . . an overabundance of technologies
. . . extraneous noise
. . . the need to talk
. . . constant time pressure
. . . any sense that I am in control

Most of us could benefit from lessening these man-made distractions by going on a “civilization fast.” But while there are some obvious physical benefits from this sort of retreat, this list of negatives relates primarily to the spiritual. When we’re surrounded by the many positive evidences of God’s eternal power and divine nature (Rom. 1:20) and are at the same time relieved of these many negative influences, our souls have an opportunity to rest and to remain open to the voice and calling of God’s Holy Spirit.

The solitude and quietness offered there provide opportunities for people to more thoroughly contemplate their Creator’s words in the light of His works. In so doing, they may gain wisdom similar to that attained by King Solomon:

KEY SCRIPTURE:

He spoke of trees, from the cedar tree of Lebanon even to the hyssop that springs out of the wall; he spoke also of animals, of birds, of creeping things, and of fish. And men of all nations, from all the kings of the earth who had heard of his wisdom, came to hear the wisdom of Solomon (1 Ki. 4:33-34).

When we neglect what opportunities we have to learn more about our Creator in His wild places, we are denying ourselves of knowledge that is critical to our spiritual growth and witness. Collectively, we buy thousands of books to read about knowing God. What we often miss, however, is the opportunity to enter the wild places that showcase the wonder of God’s creation—and there gain wisdom.

Marge likes to shop for groceries. I like to forage. I have to admit, though, that if our lives depended on my foraging, we’d become mighty lean. (Since almost every popular magazine has an article on dieting, maybe I could write one on the benefits of becoming a hunter-gatherer!) Wild foraging, while free, does not necessarily offer up the best-tasting food. Yet I’m getting accustomed to the quirky taste of some of nature’s freebies. In today’s post, found on the Ambling page, I muse a bit on the growing practice of foraging: finding food, spices, teas, and so forth in natural wild areas.

Seems like a given, doesn’t it? The natural world is the material source of life. But I mean “need” in a different sense. Let me explain:

Friday, September 23, was the official beginning of autumn this year. As always, the natural world around those of us who live in America’s upper Midwest has a mood very different from the first day of spring 6 months ago. Weather, vegetation, and wild creatures have made their annual transition. In the Norway maple outside our backdoor, a male katydid has once again announced its regional dominance with a series of loud “scritches”—fast notes on warm evenings and slow ones on cool nights. Crickets add their percussions to the nighttime concert. By comparison, there were no insect sounds on the first day of spring.

In the morning, when I walk the dog, this year’s hatch of young crows is usually making a jabber of caws. They chase each other from tree to bush to tree practicing what will be serious business for them next spring: ganging together to pester and hopefully chase off owls and hawks bent on devouring their young. Then there are the seemingly omnipresent robins: Unlike in the spring when they are in mated pairs and busy about their work of nesting and reproducing, fall robins are flocking together and filling up with food to power their migration south and away from the coming snow and frigid air.

Other wonderful seasonal differences too numerous to mention are affecting my soul with a sense of constancy and regularity that brings to mind God’s renewed covenant with the earth after the flood.  Consider today’s key Scripture:

KEY SCRIPTURE:
As long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease (Genesis 8:22).

With so much economic and political chaos in the human world—with wars and rumors of wars, with technological revolutions and changing forms of communication, with the massive increase in information—my soul needs to stay in touch with the eternal rhythms of God’s world. It is good to remain linked to and constantly aware of what does not change.

Considering all the many ways available to insulate and isolate ourselves from the natural world, it’s easy to have the attitude of the child who was asked by a researcher if he’d rather play indoors or outdoors. His reply: “Oh, I like to play inside; because that’s where the electrical outlets are.”

What are the lessons this child’s attitude should be teaching us about connecting with God’s world? Are we learning these lessons or ignoring them? We would be wise to ask what T. S. Eliot asked more than 70 years ago:

Where is the life we have lost in living?
Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowledge?
Where is the knowledge we have lost in information?

(Opening stanza of Eliot’s “Choruses from the Rock”)