I recently had reason, for a little while, to sit in a chapel overlooking a small lake, watching the wind playing with trees and birds foraging on a small sand bar. I was conscious of the rhythm of life, the rhythm of seasons, of light and darkness. I was deeply consciousness of the sacredness of God’s creation, and the way creation touches us, lifts us up, and in some sense renews us. Creation just is. It’s cycles and rhythms, its serenity and its wildness, its beauty, and its power remind me of our smallness; reminds me how little control we have over life. I thought of Job, and God’s question directed to him; in effect, “were you there when I created everything? Did you participate in its creation?” I was grateful for life, but deeply aware of the pain inherent in being human. I was peaceful in the presence of wind, water and sun. Peaceful and content for but a moment in time.
“…How do we live in creation? Do we relate to it as a place full of "things" we can use for whatever need we want to fulfill and whatever goal we wish to accomplish? Or do we see creation first of all as a sacramental reality, a sacred space where God reveals to us the immense beauty of the Divine? As long as we only use creation, we cannot recognize its sacredness because we are approaching it as if we are its owners. But when we relate to all that surrounds us as created by the same God who created us and as the place where God appears to us and calls us to worship and adoration, then we are able to recognize the sacred quality of all God's handiwork…”