As precious individual creatures succumb to the relentless pressures of the modern world, as species after species fall prey to humanity’s activities, it would be a poor Christian that simply let it happen.
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from Samantha Scholl, StockSnap.io
Everyone can spend time alone, simply being in the world. It requires
nothing other than time, a mind willing to be calm and a heart that searches
for truth. As I write this, in the centre of a city with the constant drone
of traffic, I can be alone with a robin as it sings in a tree. I can
concentrate on the complexity and purity of the sound, so loud and clear
from such a small creature. Each phrase is different, the pauses vary in
length, the volume rises and falls at different times. I can wonder at the
varied pattern of the bark of the tree and the shapes of the leaves. The
branches hold solidity in their twisted form that is unique to this
particular tree. There is no other in the world like it, no other robin such
as the one before me. I am presented with individuality and richness enough
for hours of contemplation. With a little practice, the human world fades
and I am present only to the untameable and natural. In my own small way I
am following in the footsteps of the giants of Christian contemplation.
Thomas Merton, the towering mystic and hermetic monk, is known for many
spiritual insights, but his relationship with nature is less talked about.
Through his long hours of silence in the woods of Kentucky he found God’s
vastness revealed in the smallest details of the life that surrounded him.
God “speaks to us gently in ten thousand things…he shines not on them but
within them.” These “things,” the birds, trees and flowers of the wood,
shine with an individual identity that reflect God in countless nuanced
ways. They are whole within and of themselves and the subtly of difference
we perceive between them is a living language speaking of the divine.
Therefore, there is no one ideal being, no perfect blackbird or oak tree, or
human – all reflect an innate and unique holiness. The Jesuit poet Gerard
Manley Hopkins called this “inscape,” a term Merton adopts, “their inscape
is their sanctity.”
We can get a sense of the contemplative Merton as he prays in the depths of
the night, accompanied only by the music of the wind in the trees and the
calling of night creatures. His words are intense and beautiful.
“…I live in the woods out of necessity. I get out of bed in the middle of
the night because it is imperative that I hear the silence of the night
alone, and, with my face on the floor, say psalms, alone, in the silence of
the night.
It is necessary for me to live here alone without a woman, for the silence
of the forest is my bride, and the sweet dark warmth of the whole world is
my love, and out of the heart of that dark warmth comes the secret that is
heard only in silence, but it is the root of all the secrets that are
whispered by all the lovers in their beds all over the world.”
~
Dancing in the water of Life: The Journals of Thomas Merton Vol V
Thomas Merton spent his whole life as a monk listening to the voice of God whispering secrets in every living being.
For, like a grain of fire
Smouldering in the heart
Of every living essence
God plants His undivided power –
Buries His thought too vast
For worlds
In seeds and roots and blade
And flower.
The Sowing of Meanings
If God is truly present in nature in this way, and I believe He is, then
taking steps to protect it from destruction is not an onerous duty but a
passion that overwhelms. As precious individual creatures succumb to the
relentless pressures of the modern world, as species after species fall prey
to humanity’s activities, it would be a poor Christian that simply let it
happen. Taking action to protect the natural world is, to my mind, a
Christian imperative. There are many demands on our time and generosity, but
this cannot be a lesser cause. Nature provides us with the inspiration for
deep prayer and insight; it speaks everyday of God. And of course, no matter
who we are, what colour or creed, we all need the natural world simply to
stay alive.
It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the task and therefore vital to remember
that we are not being asked to save everything alone. All of us can only do
what we can, be that small or large. But as long as it is done with true and
wholehearted commitment, then we will act well. Do one thing and do it well
need not merge into multi-tasking where many things can be done badly and
which sap us of energy. We are simply asked for our best. I often say the
final words of "A Step Along the Way," a poem written for Archbishop Oscar
Romero:
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing
that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an
opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the
master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own
On April 21st I set out on a 500 mile walk to raise awareness about the decline of the curlew, our largest wading bird with a bubbling, evocative call. This is my one task and I hope to do it well. A world without the curlew would be depleted and impoverished. Thomas Merton called individual creatures “a thought of God,” and so this is my way of honouring those thoughts, hopefully helping keep them on our islands to inspire others for generations to come.
Mary Colwell, public speaker, producer and writer specialising in nature and the environment, reflects upon Thomas Merton, God’s presence within creation and humanity’s connection with the natural world. She is a producer and writer specialising in nature and the environment.