Such love does
The sky now pour
That whenever I stand in a field,
I have to wring out the light
When I get home.
~ St. Francis of Assisi

It is rare these days when the newspaper gives over precious print space on the editorial pages for something other than acerbic political or intentionally divisive writing. But yesterday there was an editorial that caught my eye and had me saying ‘Amen’ under my breath long before breakfast. The title of the article was ‘Shocked at what passes for awe these days and was written by two professors at Normandale Community College. The general message of the writers was that, as a people, we have become immune to awe, that we are a people fulfilling important responsibilities but who are uninspired. All the while, they say, we also long to be awestruck.

Perhaps I was drawn to this article because I share their opinion, their concern. I have long believed that the environmental crisis in which we find ourselves is fueled by our inability to connect at a deep level with awe for the Creation that holds us. When I read the psalms, many reflecting the sheer power of a call to an awe-filled life, I am humbled by these ancients ability to send up their full bodied celebration of awe. The awe they experience at Creation and its intricate patterns and beautiful, powerful creatures. The inspiration that grounds them as those whose work seems to be to shout that praise to the world. If this were our common experience of the beautiful, fragile world in which we live, how could we do anything to harm it for ourselves or for those who will come after? Too often those who tell the cautionary tales of climate change do so only with facts and figures leaving out the call to an awe-filled life.

When have you experienced awe lately? When has some moment of your day taken your breath away? When was the last time you felt goosebumps or found your eyes welling up at the beauty or wonder of some encounter? The opportunities for being awe inspired, I believe, have not decreased in our world. We have simply chosen to live the distracted life that keeps us from being awake to all the myriad ways awe is jumping up and down saying:” See me! See me!”

The psalmists of ancient days took the time to watch the sunrise, to gaze at the mountain formations, to watch the stag drink from a glistening stream. They allowed this experience of the Holy to wash over them and remind them that were a part of something greater than their small, finite life. Then they shaped their words and told their story. Are we called to do anything less?

We each wake up every morning with the potential to be awe struck at nearly very turn. The choice is ours as we walk out into the world. We can spend the day ticking off the items on our lists that have no end. Or we can choose to have an encounter with Mystery. We can notice the deep blue of the eyes of the person who hands us our morning coffee. We can stop to watch the pink crabapple blossoms fall slowly, like a baptism, over the woman standing at the bus stop. (I was witness to such a scene just yesterday.) We can take a moment to gaze into the center of the nearly spent tulips…..how is that brilliant star shape at the center even possible? We can notice the gently arcing eyebrows of the baby that passes us on the sidewalk. We can stare at the soft wrinkles of the hands of the elderly woman who is recounting her recent aches and pains. What love and tenderness have these hands known? We can listen to the orchestra of bird songs outside the window and marvel at a language we will never speak.

Awe. It is all around us. Like St. Francis, who gave his life to living simply in the wonder and mystery of his time, we too can arrive at the end of our day needing to wring out the light that has bathed us.

And wouldn’t that be a wonderful way to live a life? And wouldn’t that be a wonderful way to begin healing the world?

Have a blessed weekend………..