Attending to the witness of the world

All your works shall give thanks to you, O LORD, and all your saints shall bless you!
-Psalm 145:10

…the eternal light reveals itself in a twofold manner through Scripture and through creature.  Divine knowledge may be renewed in us in no other way, but through the letters of Scripture and the species of creature.  Learn, therefore, to understand these divine modes of expression and to conceive of their meanings in your soul, for therein you will know the Word.
- John Scotus Eriugena, Homily on John 1:1-14

This morning broke cold and clear, reminding me of the brutal winter we endured in Northern Virginia from Christmas to the first of March. No one I’ve talked to can remember a winter like it before, and everyone is happy it’s over.  Only the romantic at heart, it seems, can appreciate the beauty of winter (“Oh, the weather outside is frightful…”).

But Susie can tell you, I love the winter.  I wait for it eagerly every year and welcome it with open arms, each time around hoping it will be just a little more severe and will linger a little longer.  It’s only May, and I’m already looking forward to late November.

In winter the weather outside is delightful – cold, brisk, grey, threatening snow (in my dreams, that is) – and presents to the world a stark, simple beauty that reminds me of the steadfast love of the Lord.

It is a beauty such as is captured in the sculptures of Alberto Giacommetti, in which human beings are reduced to their simplest, most unadorned features, at the same time preserving a dignity and nobility that fills us with awe and admiration.

With the leaves gone, the branches of the trees brace themselves against the cold air.  In the still of winter I love to trace the outlines and patterns of trunks and branches, and to observe the birds flitting between them and pausing to feed, or just to hunker down against the cold.

In winter this landscape, which is barely visible during the full foliage of summer, and from which we’re distracted by the brilliance of spring and fall, reveals the real stuff of trees.  The trunk and branches are the lifelines of trees, sending up water and nutriments to the food-factories in the leaves, distributing what they produce throughout the whole system, and providing the underlying strength which allows the entire plant to function and thrive.  They also testify to me of their underground mirror-image, the roots, which hold their ground against the cold of winter and keep the tree alive and in its place.

Here in the trunk and branches, normally overshadowed by the things we can see – leaves, flowers, and fruit – the Word of God does His intimate work of sustaining the trees and pumping fresh oxygen into the atmosphere.  In the winter I can study these veins and arteries of tree life, observe the repetitive and redundant beauty of the patterns they present, and wonder again at the steadfast love of the Lord.  In how many other, unseen, taken-for-granted ways, does He channel His favor to us throughout the day?

Eriugena and other Celtic saints developed the ability to “listen” to God as He spoke to them through the things He has made.  They practiced the discipline of “seeing” His glory as He made Himself known in mountains, lakes, rivers, trees, and beasts.  All the works of God spoke powerfully to the Celtic believers, strengthening their faith and enriching their worship of the Lord.

In our day we have mostly let go this practice of “creational theology” (for a rationale and introduction to this discipline, see my book, Consider the Lilies).  But there is much to be learned, and much to help us in our worship of God from taking the time to observe the world He has made, and through which He speaks to us day by day.

Spring offers as many opportunities as winter to explore the glory of God – though they are certainly different and, to most folks, more interesting. Look for things you don’t normally see.  Consider their function, why God put them there, how He uses them to benefit all of creation.  Look for lines and hues of beauty and strength, and reflect on what they suggest about the One Who made and sustains them.  Then let your praise and thanks to God redound all the more loudly, as you draw closer to Him through the things He has made.

The creation is declaring the glory of God, no matter the season. The sooner we learn to listen to God’s glory there, the more our sense of Him and His presence will be enlarged and enriched.

For more insight to this topic, get the book, Creation Set Free, by Sigurd Bergmann, from our online store.

Or read the article, “The Witness of Creation,” by T. M. Moore.