There is a small family of thrushes having a very content time pecking through the woodchip pathways and garden beds of our Kirke Street Community Garden. I am grateful that, unlike sparrows, these thrushes target insects rather than seedlings. Observing them yesterday, the mother with her three short tailed children out for a morning hop, it occurred to me that this time last year I would not have even noticed them. The experience of the past year has slowed me down, brought me closer to home and made me more observant to what is going on around me. In many ways the experience of lockdown and last half year of adjustment have forced upon me certain spiritual disciplines: a simplification of life, time in solitude, awareness of my community, and attentiveness to small details – in nature, my own soul and the lives of others. The process has produced in me a sense of longing and an observant awareness. A few thoughts about the place of awareness and longing in living a spiritually connected life.
If we are not aware of what is going on, within and around us, how will we ever tune in to the symphony of God in and through the creation? In his classic book, A Celebration of Discipline, Richard Foster writes that the contemplation of creation is one of the ways we “listen” to God.
“A third type of contemplative prayer is meditation upon the creation…The heavens do indeed declare the glory of God and firmament does show forth his handiwork (Ps 19:1). Evelyn Underhill recommends, “…begin with the first form of contemplation which the old mystics sometimes called the discovery of God in his creatures!”
So give your attention to the created order. Look at the trees, really look at them. Take a flower and allow its beauty and symmetry to sink deep into your mind and heart. Listen to the birds – they are messengers of God. Watch the little creatures that creep upon the earth. These are humble little acts, to be sure, but sometimes God reaches us profoundly in these simple ways if we will quiet ourselves to listen.”
Jesus taught his disciples to learn from nature in order to recognise the arrival of God’s Kingdom. “Now learn this lesson from the fig tree: As soon as its twigs get tender and its leaves come out, you know that summer is near.” (Mark 13:28)
Which brings me quite naturally to our experience of “God-longing”. As we tune ourselves to God’s real presence in creation we find ourselves longing for God’s will to be done in our human lives also. The Psalmist wrote in Psalm 19, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you”. We are not fulfilled by an awareness of God’s order in nature. We long for our world and for own personal lives to be gathered back to the “heart of God” and be given a God-ward direction. When we surrender ourselves to this longing we grow more in tune with Jesus himself who promised that God’s Kingdom would come in fulness “on earth as in heaven.”
I wonder at the conclusion of this most remarkable year, can a renewed awareness and longing attentiveness to God’s quiet voice amidst the goodness of creation set the tone for our Advent season and our celebration of Christmas?
E te Atua pono, e te Atua tika,
kia āritarita mātou i te tūmanako,
i a mātou e tatari nei ki te whakatutukitanga o tāu kī taurangi
i roto i a Īhu Karaiti, i tō mātou Kaiwhakaora.
Whakarongo ki tēnei īnoi i runga i tōu aroha.
Āmine.
God, faithful and true,
make us eager with expectation,
as we look for the fulfilment of your promise
in Jesus Christ our Saviour.
Hear this prayer for your love’s sake.
Amen.
