The Scent of God

There was an interesting article in the New York Times recently about a professional Italian epicure who lost his sense of smell and taste due to COVID. His name is Michele Crippa. He is a celebrated gastronome known for his ability to discern the most delicate of smells and flavors.

The article says that he was able “to distinguish between Parmesan cheeses of different ages — and between milk extracted at different altitudes. He reveled in the perfume of cod smoked over pine cones. In his reviews for Italy’s pre-eminent food magazine, he discerned the scent of champagne in raw Nicaraguan coffee beans and tasted traces of green peas in a blend from Kenya.”

One March day in 2020 he lost his sense of smell and taste overnight. He poured himself a cup of coffee and could taste only water. His sense of taste was warped. “Spoiled milk tasted fine. Sweet wafts of vanilla triggered heaves of disgust. Peaches tasted like basil.” Now he is on a mission to recapture his sense of taste and smell and help others who are similarly afflicted.  It is working … at least in part.

When I read this, I could not help but compare it to spirituality. It seems to me that much of American Christianity has lost its sense of smell and taste. It can no longer smell or taste God. Some forms of Christianity are so artificial that they are poisonous to the soul. More than once I have left a worship service because of poisonous preaching. Such religion is dangerous to one’s spiritual health.

Many churches have substituted beliefs about God for experience of God. Political ideology and culture warfare are increasingly being substituted for spirituality. Even when the spiritual dimension is proclaimed, congregants are taught to rely on someone else’s word about God - by way of authoritative scriptures, creeds, or religious leaders - rather than tasting God for themselves. When left unexercised the intuitive sense of God atrophies.

The good news is that the sense of God can be recovered, just like COVID victims can recover a degree of smell and taste. We can know God directly. Some forms of Christianity know this and teach this. Some churches proclaim the original gospel of Jesus instead of the manmade gospel about Jesus. If that were not so, I would no longer call myself a Christian or attend Christian worship regularly.

I can smell God. I can taste God. God has an unmistakable aroma that cannot be put into words. Can you describe the scent of geraniums or the aroma of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies? It is like describing colors to the blind. But you know these when you smell them or taste them! It is the same with God. You know God when you smell God or taste God. You recognize the scent of God. For me the fragrance of God is unmistakable.

I think that is why holy places are so often associated with incense, fragrant oils, or rituals involving food. These are physical reminders of spiritual presence. That is why the Eucharist is such an important part of the Christian tradition. Catholics even refer to it as Real Presence.

Not being able to sense the presence of God would feel to me like losing one of our five physical senses. That is why the “dark night of the soul” – the seeming absence of God - seems so terrible to people like Mother Teresa or Saint John of the Cross.

God’s subtle – and sometimes overpowering presence – is everywhere and in everything. Seemingly in some places more than others – holy places. Seemingly in some people more than others – holy people. Yet in reality all places and people are holy. There is no place or person that does not carry the scent of the divine.

Jesus called this divine omnipresence the Kingdom of God. I use Jesus’ term, but also call it the Presence of God or Unitive Awareness. Call it whatever you want, using whatever religious language you prefer. It is not important what label you assign it. What is important is that we smell and taste this for ourselves. As the psalmist says, “Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in God.”