The blessing and curse of the worship of nature
Was looking yesterday at the effortless ease with which creation worships its creator as described in Psalm 19. The heavens worship in a way which is constant, unabashed, untroubled by the complexity of words and visible/ accessible to all. To this extent, it functions as a lens to focus what Christian worship should be like. Consider the image below. It has not been enhanced in any way. You will notice, though, how the dark sky stands in stark contrast to the brightness of the boats. The photograph was taken just before a storm, and millions of little droplets of water suspended in the air acted like tiny lenses to focus the intensity of colour. The worship within the natural world functions in just such a way.
That worship can function like a mirror, too – showing us how different our worship is by comparison. Reflected in it, we may see that our worship is not constant, or unabashed or accessible to all. Lamenting this serves little purpose – since we cannot shed the trappings of free will to find some form of instinctive worship which we imagine to be there for the birds and beasts. That said, the worship which we choose to offer can be a beautiful thing – hand-crafted from folly and wisdom, faith and doubt, base instinct and high aspiration.
One of the most thought-provoking books I have read about the nature of nature, so to speak is A Sweet Wild Note by Richard Smyth, reviewed here. Birds which fly high in the air have their shrill voice, which carries across the wide skies. Birds which fly in amongst trees or buildings have a lower, voice – which bounces across their environment.
For those who would worship their creator instinctively, the important thing is to find your voice.