To Study Nature

 

Eine ganz eigne Liebe und Kindlichkeit gehört, nebst dem deutlichsten Verstände und dem ruhigsten Sinn, zum Studium der Natur. Wenn erst eine ganze Nation Leidenschaft für die Natur empfäht, und hier ein neues Band unter den Bürgern geknüpft wird, jeder Ort seine Naturforscher und Laboratorien hat, dann wird man erst Fortschritte auf dieser kolossalischen Bahn machen, die mit ihr im Verhältnis stehn.

 A very special love and childishness belongs to the study of nature, together with the clearest understanding and the calmest sense. Only when a whole nation feels passion for nature, and a new bond is forged among its citizens, and every place has naturalists and laboratories, will progress be made on this colossal exploration that stands in proportion to it.

                                                                                                                 —Novalis

 

To study and attempt to understand nature, and especially the dynamic relationships that exist in nature—is this not the best antidote to the artificiality that threatens to overwhelm our twenty-first century hearts and minds? Thomas Merton wrote about sitting on a rotten tree stump and finding a black widow spider living there. He reflected that, “It is strange to be so very close to something that could kill you, and not be defended by some kind of an invention. As if, wherever there was a problem in life, some machine would have to get there before you to negotiate it . . . As if the whole of reality were in the inventions that stand between us and the world: the inventions which have become our world.” (Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander) The bee teaches us that it needs no human-made tool to extract nectar from the flower; the tree, that it needs no plastic straw to drink from the soil; and the bird, that it doesn’t need GPS to find its way home. I am not saying that certain technologies aren’t useful or even beneficial, but nature reminds us that they are not always necessary. And our technical prowess is not a basis for certainty, nor is technology consistently reliable or useful in every circumstance. The deuterocanonical book of Baruch ends with the Letter of Jeremiah concerning idols. The author ridicules so-called gods that are made by human hands, and at one point writes, “Bats and swallows alight on their bodies and heads—any bird, and cats as well. Know, therefore, that they are not gods; do not fear them.” (Baruch 6:21-22) I think about piles of old computers that I have seen sitting in disposal lots, and how these ingenious devices are now the homes of pigeons and mice, and I think to myself, “They are not gods; do not fear them.”

Poem

I have a poem in Amethyst Review, the second one that has appeared there recently. Although I don’t usually comment on what I have written, I do sometimes like to provide a little background. This poem is inspired by my love of bees, but its symbolism also comes from the words found in the second advent sermon of St. Bernard of Clairvaux concerning Jesus: “Our bee feeds among lilies, and dwells in the flowery country of the angels. This bee flew down to the city of Nazareth, the meaning of which may be interpreted as ‘a blossom;’ He came to the sweet-smelling flower of perpetual virginity; He settled upon it, remained with it.” I was also thinking of St. Ambrose of Milan, who compared the beehive to the church and the bee to the individual Christian, because of the bees’ reputation for diligence, vigilance, modesty, zeal, and dedication to the hive. Interestingly, the beehive is a symbol of both St. Bernard and St. Ambrose, as their eloquence was compared to the sweetness of honey.

Creation

 

Let everything in creation draw you to God. Refresh your mind with some innocent recreation and needful rest, if it were only to saunter through the garden or the fields, listening to the sermon preached by the flowers, the trees, the meadows, the sun, the sky, and the whole universe. You will find that they exhort you to love and praise God; that they excite you to extol the greatness of the Sovereign Architect Who has given them their being.

                                                                                                        --St. Paul of the Cross

 

Nature is truly a great refuge and temple. But nature also makes me inarticulate (which is not necessarily a bad thing, considering my tendency to babble on in both speech and writing). How to capture with words the moment when the crab apple trees become covered in frothy pink and red blossoms, or that hour when the distant mountains turn sharp as etchings and are silhouetted in silver-blue, or the short span of time when the naked desert adopts every shade of luxuriant green after heavy summer rains. What value or truth can anything that I say (or write) have for myself or anyone else, especially when compared with the wholeness and balance that nature displays as a continuous reminder of the “original source of beauty” (Wisdom 13:3) who fashioned it?

Unless your righteousness . . .

I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter into the kingdom of heaven.

                                                                                               --Matthew 5:20

 

How to surpass the scribes and Pharisees in virtue? To begin with, by always being humble, by remembering our own faults and failings and our need for forgiveness, by knowing that anything worthwhile in us is a gift of God, and by seeing all others as better than ourselves in every way.