Beyond the Sacred Page

When the weather is warm my wife and I like to sit by a river or lake and enjoy nature. I will usually bring my Kindle with me. There is nothing nicer than reading a good book in a beautiful natural setting. At such times I usually read something that speaks of nature. Usually something by the Transcendentalists Emerson or Thoreau. Yesterday I read Emerson's essay entitled Nature.  (You might hear echoes of that essay in this post.) Other times I will read Whitman, Whittier (a nearby mountain is named after him) or Robert Frost.  

One of our favorite spots is on the shore of Lake Chocorua within sight of the summer house of American philosopher and psychologist William James (who was Ralph Waldo Emerson’s godson). Sometimes I will read his The Varieties of Religious Experience. Other times I will read the Psalms, another portion of biblical Wisdom literature, or some other sacred scripture. It doesn’t have to be Christian scripture.  

I remember being at a Baptist pastor’s retreat in Pennsylvania years ago. All the other Baptist preachers were inside the chapel listening to a preacher preach about preaching. Meanwhile I was playing hooky, sitting on the edge of a steep gorge overlooking a river and reading Easwaran's translation of the Upanishads. I chuckled at what they would say if they knew what I was reading.  

I read such books in such settings because the Word that comes through the pages echoes the Word I hear through nature. What is within me matches what is outside me. The distinction between inside and outside disappears.  

To be honest, I am always a bit disappointed by the written word. No matter how inspired and beautiful the words, they do not come close to the Word of God in nature. Spoken or written words are clumsy compared to the direct expression of the Divine Word in the natural world. As the old hymn says: “Beyond the sacred page I seek Thee, Lord; My spirit pants for Thee, O Living Word.” 

I can understand why many people prefer to go for a walk in the woods on Sunday morning rather than go to a church service. In nature’s cathedral we can always hear the Word of God; in a human house of worship we sometimes hear it. That is why I usually seek out an outdoor worship service during the summer, or at least sit by an open window in church. At best the inner and outer world harmonize in the Divine Song. 

As much as I enjoy worship as part of a Christian community, much of the time I find that the words of the service get in the way of the Word of God. Sometimes it is painful to notice how much the human words in a church service deviate from the divine Word. I often wonder if some people go to church to avoid God. Wordy worship can be a substitute for the presence of God.  

The clearest experience of worship for me is wordless. No thoughts to get in the way. No clumsy theological attempts to describe the divine. No moralizing or judging. No heresy-hunting or opining. Just Holy Presence, which Emerson calls “the perpetual presence of the sublime.” Presence welling up like Living Water from within. Presence cascading over me like a waterfall. Presence like sunshine sparkling on a lake at dawn. 

Now I am using words to describe the Divine! I guess that is the occupational habit of a retired preacher. Perhaps that is why I find myself refusing nearly all invitations to preach these days. There is nothing that can be said that is not usually misunderstood. I have found that nothing can improve on silence. So I rest in the Holy Silence of God.