I’m not a proponent of worshipping nature. That’s akin to worshipping the message rather than the Messenger, or the creation rather than the Creator.
I spent some time today at Radnor Lake State Park with a friend. Even after all this time, it’s like stepping out of the world I know into a strange, slower, more peaceful world where the pace is slower but the beauty is richer.
I do believe that if you listen closely, you can hear nature (or rather God speaking through nature). It might go something like this:
“I have existed long before you and will still remain long after you have gone. In contrast to your hurried and busy lives, my rhythms are slow and easy. My seasons flow into one another at their leisure and the changes are few and small, building over time.
I speak in hushed tones and in quiet ways. Often, you are so accustomed to noise that you miss my words. You are used to constant bombardment and flashy displays and do not see the gentle beauty I offer.
To listen to me, you must learn to quiet your soul and calm your spirit. You must open your clenched fists into a posture of receiving and giving. You must learn to see beauty in the small as well as the great.
I will not compete with your frenetic striving and ceaseless chatter. I will wait until you can learn to be still and know.”
“The celestial realms announce God’s glory;
the skies testify of His hands’ great work.
Each day pours out more of their sayings;
each night, more to hear and more to learn.
Inaudible words are their manner of speech,
and silence, their means to convey.
Yet from here to the ends of the earth, their voices have gone out;
the whole world can hear what they say” (Psalm 19:1-4, The Voice).