August 4, 2024
There are lots of “nature religions.” In fact the earliest religions in the world were probably nature religions—belief systems that made gods out of the powers of nature and important natural objects.
But, even though our Bible goes back thousands of years, and is written by many hands and speaks with many voices, it is very careful to avoid even the hint that our Jewish ancestors worshiped nature. It may talk about storms and floods and earthquakes, about trees and rivers and rocks, but all of these are things that might tell us something about God, or that God is in control of—none of them are ever actually divine.
When we get to the New Testament and read about Jesus, we find the same thing. Jesus experiences weather, but the evangelists are careful to tell us that Jesus had control of the weather, and not vice versa.
But the most important thing we might say about Jesus and nature was how Jesus used nature to help us learn about life and God. For example in that passage from the Sermon on the Mount I read a minute ago:
The lilies of the field teach us not to worry about what we wear or how we look—they don’t make cloth and they don’t sew, and yet there’s nothing prettier than they are. (Matt 6:28-29)
And then there’s grass, which is alive one moment and is run over by a lawnmower the next. But it’s still beautiful, so experience life and beauty when it’s available to us.
There’s also the birds, who teach us to trust God for our daily bread. (In Luke, Jesus teaches the same lesson using ravens.)
And later, near the end of his life (Matt 24:32), Jesus points to a fig tree, and says that when it puts forth leaves, you know that the fullness of time has nearly come.
In John 3 (v 8), Jesus uses nature to teach a very important lesson: “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” You can’t control the wind; you can’t control the Spirit. You can’t see the wind, but you feel it; it’s the same with the Holy Spirit.
So we don’t worship nature. But we can look to nature to learn about the God we do worship. Look at the stars—tiny points of light that the darkness cannot overcome. But what we perceive as tiny—no larger than a pinprick—are actually unimaginably large. So it is with the actions of God’s people: They are like a light in the darkness; and though they seem small, they are much greater in the eyes of God than we can ever know.
Though it’s much smaller, the moon effects the earth. It provides stability, and is the reason for the tides. So it is with the children of God: Our impact is important, even if it’s unacknowledged.
Like trees and mountains, our faith has deep roots and rises up to meet God.
When we go for a hike (or even just a walk), the path we're on reminds us of our walk with Christ. Straight and even, or turning first this way, then that, uphill and down, we're given a chance to meditate on how our life has been and how it's going. We can think about the mountaintop experiences and the valleys of despair. But through it all, we know we do not walk alone.
So no matter where we look—even if we're just looking out our living room window—God has lessons to share with us through the beauty of creation. So look and listen, and that God is our Lord, and that God is good.
—©2024 Sam Greening
