What's So Wonderful About That?

 This week's quotation, by François Mauriac, the 20th century novelist, dramatist, critic, poet and journalist, reads, "Man quickly becomes accustomed to the miracles he performs himself."

And I'm afraid he's right. We are surrounded by miracles which we do not recognise as such, because they are part of our daily lives. I'm writing this blogpost now on my laptop, and took the photo above on my iPhone and sent it to myself by e-mail, downloaded it to my laptop, then uploaded it to this post. Which took less time than the words have taken to type. 

But I can remember the days (not so very long ago) when it was unusual to have a computer in the home and mobile phones did not exist. And in the earliest days of the internet, the only way of connecting with it was dial up - who remembers the gloingle gloingle noise it used to make? - and each page loaded with glacial slowness. The possibility of instant connection to the wider world around me still fills me with wonder. Or, it does when I remember to think about it.

It is so easy to be come blasé about the everyday miracles of our lives, to take them completely for granted. It takes more effort to be sufficiently awake and aware to say "Wow!" occasionally, when something goes right without effort. To remember when the accomplishment of this everyday miracle would have been incredibly difficult, if not impossible, because no-one had invented the technology yet.

I make no apology for repeating once mre the beautiful prayer quoted by Rachel Naomi Remen in her book, My Grandfather's Blessings, as it is a wonderful antidote to this sort of cynical, blasé, seen-it-all-before mindset:

"Days pass and the years vanish

and we walk sightless among miracles.

Lord, fill our eyes with seeing

and our minds with knowing.

Let there be moments when your Presence,

like lightning, illuminates

the darkness in which we walk.

Help us to see, wherever we gaze,

that the bush burns, unconsumed.

And we, clay touched by God,

will reach out for holiness and

exclaim in wonder,

"How filled with awe is this place

and we did not know it."

"Help us to see, wherever we gaze, that the bush burns, unconsumed." Yes, amen, amen.

Appreciating Beauty

 Like many of us, I enjoy visiting new places and exploring them. In the last month or so, I have enjoyed visiting both Pembrokeshire and mid-Wales and glorying in the beautiful landscapes. So Ralph Waldo Emerson's words resonate with me: "We enjoy travelling the world to find beauty, but we have to carry it within us, otherwise we won't find it."

There are two ways of walking in the world: blindly or attentively. Sometimes, we turn into "walking heads", so full of our thoughts that we simply do not see the beauty around us. And that is such a waste... I have sometimes "woken up" part way through a walk round our village or in the Forest, and have realised that I was thinking about something completely different, and had not been present at all to the beauty around me.

And there always is beauty, even in city streets. In fact, I find it astonishing, on the rare occasions when I visit cities these days, the amount of green that is there. And of course, there is also beauty in man-made objects like buildings and statues, and street art... even advertisement hoardings can be beautiful. As are people.

But we have to be awake to it, have to be attentive to it. We have to "carry it within us", as Emerson says. Otherwise, we will not find it.

Last year, I wrote a blogpost about miracles here. And I wrote, "Our world is full of miracles, if we have eyes to see." Which is exactly what Emerson is talking about, but about beauty, rather than miracles. And I finished the post with a marvellous prayer which Rachel Naomi Remen shared in her wonderful book, My Grandfather's Blessings. I would like to repeat it here, as it is as true about beauty as it is about miracles. Because beauty is a miracle...

"Days pass and the years vanish

and we walk sightless among miracles.

Lord, fill our eyes with seeing

and our minds with knowing.

Let there be moments when your Presence,

like lightning, illuminates

the darkness in which we walk.

Help us to see, wherever we gaze,

that the bush burns, unconsumed.

And we, clay touched by God,

will reach out for holiness and

exclaim in wonder,

'How filled with awe is this place

and we did not know it.'"

May we all have the sight to perceive the everyday miracles in our lives and the beauty all around us. Amen

Miracles in the Silence

 The 19th century German novelist Wilhelm Raabe wrote, "The greatest miracles take place in great silence." 

Hmm. Not so sure I agree with that, especially at this time of year. I am one hundred per cent sure that the miracle that was the birth of Jesus did not take place in "great silence".  Mary was an ordinary human woman, and would have felt all the pain and travail of labour - I'm sure she would not have suffered in silence. And Joseph would have breathed awkward words, intended to be of comfort. The animals would have been moving around in their stable and outside, perhaps the sounds of distant Bethlehem would have been heard, or the calls of night birds and animals.

The birth of every child is a miracle. I have been through it twice and I have never lost my sense of awe and wonder. That a single act of love can lead to the growth of another human being over nine months, changing from a few cells into a fully-functioning human baby. That my body provided everything the growing foetus needed to nourish it. That I was able to endure the pain of labour because I knew (hoped desperately) that in the end, I would have a living, healthy baby. That miracle happened twice for me.

Our world is full of miracles, if we have eyes to see. As many of you know, I walk regularly in Salcey Forest and am able to observe at first hand the miracle that is the annual cycle of the seasons. At the moment, most of the trees are bare of leaves, which have formed a wet slush underfoot and the bushes have been nearly denuded of berries by the hungry birds. But after Christmas I will soon see shoots of new green, the annual miracle of renewal. By March, the Forest will have transformed into a burgeoning green miracle. Then in the Autumn, the trees will remember the necessity of a season of dormancy and will begin to shed their leaves once more.

Miracles do not only happen in nature. How we interact with each other can result in changes of heart and mind - surely a minor miracle in itself.

But I do believe that *appreciation* of each miracle, as it happens, does take place in "great silence" - that moment of awe and wonder when we take in the miracle that it taking, has taken place.

I love the prayer, quoted by Rachel Naomi Remen in her book, My Grandfather's Blessings:

Days pass and the years vanish

and we walk sightless among miracles.

Lord, fill our eyes with seeing 

and our minds with knowing.

Let there be moments when your Presence,

like lightning, illuminates

the darkness in which we walk. 

Help us to see, wherever we gaze,

that the bush burns, unconsumed.

And we, clay touched by God,

will reach out for holiness and

exclaim in wonder,

"How filled with awe is this place

and we did not know it."

May we all have the sight to perceive the everyday miracles in our lives. Amen