Awe and wonder
Did you see any of the photos from the epic—around the moon—mission?
With some images never before seen by human eyes.
I have just one word: Awe. Oh, and goosebumps. Okay… two words.
And I loved this headline in today’s newspaper: “The Mission to the Moon Inspires a Sense of Reverence.”
And I can hear Mr. Roger’s voice, “Our world hangs like a magnificent jewel in the vastness of space. Every one of us is a part of that jewel, a facet of that jewel. And in the perspective of infinity, our differences are infinitesimal. We are intimately related. May we never even pretend that we are not.”
(Dartmouth commencement address 2002)
Psychologist Dacher Keltner of UC Berkeley defines awe as “the feeling of being in the presence of something vast that transcends your understanding of the world.”
(“How Awe and Everyday Wonder Can Shape Our World”)
It’s the moment our sense of “self” softens in the face of something greater, whether that’s nature, art, spirituality, or human connection. Keltner talks about how this softening—this emotion—“really gets us to be other-oriented, kinder, more focused on caring.”
These days, I am often asked about “suggestions” for sanity and healing and reparation. My answer “Today, let goosebumps astonish us”.
Goosebumps—making space for the softening in our chest whenever we see humanity or kindness.
So. Today, I invite and welcome the healing power of goosebumps. And yes, palette cleansing awe.
“We do not pray in order to escape the world around us,” Sister Joan Chittister reminds us. “We pray with one eye on the world so that we can come to understand what is really being asked of us here and now, at times like this, as co-creators of the universe.”
Meaning that awe can make us feel more connected—to other people and humanity as a whole. Awe has an amazing capacity to bring people together.
Even so, I can hear a voice in the back of my mind, “Awe? Really? That’s your recommendation?”
(I know many of us would rather have a “checklist”.)
And speaking of bringing people together because “we are intimately related. May we never even pretend that we are not,” Mr. Rogers continued his commencement address with a story. “Have you heard my favorite story that came from the Seattle Special Olympics?
Well, for the hundred-yard dash, there were nine contestants. All of them so-called physically or mentally disabled. All nine of them assembled at the starting line and at the sound of the gun, they took off. But not long afterward, one little boy stumbled and fell and hurt his knee and began to cry. The other eight children heard him crying, they slowed down, turned around and ran back to him.
Every one of them ran back to him. One little girl with down syndrome, bent down and kissed the boy and said, ‘This’ll make it better’. And the little boy got up and he, and the rest of the runners linked their arms together and joyfully walked to the finish line. They all finished the race at the same time. And when they did, everyone in that stood up and clapped and whistled and cheered for a long, long time. People who were there are still telling the story with great delight. And you know why? Because deep down we know that what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves.
What really matters is helping others win too. Even if it means slowing down and changing our course now and then. Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius, what a name, was the last of the great Roman philosophers and the first of the scholastics of the middle ages. 1500 years ago, Boethius wrote this sentence, ‘Oh happy race of mortals, if your hearts are ruled as is the universe by love.’”
After that story, I’m smiling big. Even so, if we are honest, we know that “modern life has left little room for wonder. Our calendars are full, our feeds are endless, and our minds rarely get a moment of stillness. Even vacations can become performance projects, curated and documented for others.
(Wonder) forces a pause, creating a physiological and psychological ‘reset.’ In those moments, we remember what it feels like to simply be.” (Thank you Dr. Manmeet Rattu)
I do know that when I give way to cynicism or anxiety or panic, I assume hopelessness is real. And Numb is a preferred mindset. Meaning that I am now no longer present… to make choices for healing, for kindness, for connection.
Let this take root; a world with awe is bigger than our anxiety, and our narcissistic narrowing of our focus.
Threes things I take with me into my week.
One, Thank you for the gifts of goosebumps and awe.
Two, I am grateful to be engaged, and to be a caretaker—for the earth, and for those who live here.
Three, Because beauty cannot be eradicated, there is hope.
Many years ago, I spend some time in a village in Holland, near the border of Germany. As friends, we sat around the river and swapped stories and laughed from the gut. One evening around sunset I jumped on my bike and rode through the village. I stopped near a wall and watched a villager in her garden. She was bent at the waist, had a small garden tool in her hand and was scratching the soil around her lilac shrubs. She was doing it lovingly, coddling, caressing. It seemed like she had nowhere to go and was in no hurry to get there. An old stone wall surrounded her garden lot, and a stone path surrounded by emerald green grass led from the gate, flanked by autumn blooming flowers; monkshood, asters, hollyhocks. Tears welled in my eyes, and I was filled with some longing for something that was yet unnamed. I knew this for certain: around me it was blessed.
I wanted to jump the fence and give her a hug for the gift she’d just given me, understanding that rediscovering wonder is about seeing with new eyes.
Yes, and Amen. The gifts of goosebumps and awe.
A few years ago, I was scheduled to be the chaplain on a pilgrimage tour of Sacred Sites of Ireland. Sadly, because of the pandemic, the trip was cancelled. I’ve been looking forward to a having that trip come to life. This Wednesday, (along with my wife, Nancy) we are on our way to visit Ireland sacred sites. This time, not with a group. We’ll be moseying, and traipsing, and savoring, and reflecting, and embracing the moments of stillness, filled with reverence and awe. And I’ll be writing Sabbath Moment along the way.
And yes, I’m a golf addict, and enjoyed the Masters. Congrats to Rory.
And tomorrow, April 13, I gratefully celebrate the 47th anniversary of my ordination. And tip my hat to my father, who shares a birthday on that day. It would have been his 92nd. Cheers Dad.
Quote for our week… The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. Marcel Proust
BULLETIN BOARD
Today’s Photo Credit: “Terry, I thought that in the midst of all that is happening in this world that to gaze at these flowers for a bit might give us a calming which would allow us to give thanks to our Creator!” John Obringer.
POEMS AND PRAYERS
How We Momentarily Become the Moon
In the dark house
we watch the moon
rise through the window,
watch as its fullness
climbs into the sky.
For everything we see,
so much we miss.
But in this moment,
your hand in mine,
we give the moon
all our attention until
every part of us,
even our wounds, are
shining.
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer,
When the world feels hopeless and heartless,
take a moment to look around.
There are beautiful humans everywhere,
often hiding in plain sight in cabs,
on buses, in cafes, on trains, in libraries,
on park benches, in laundromats, on subways.
They may not be rich or well-educated.
They may be broken and hurting themselves.
They may not have much to offer
in terms of worldly goods.
But they are the comforters, encouragers, sharers,
teachers, servers, healers, mentors, connecters,
helpers, and counselors who keep
the random hurting humans,
the weary and the lost,
the invisible sufferers who walk among us every day,
going just long enough
to find their hope and strength again.
It doesn’t take a degree or wealth
or a grand gesture to make a
difference in this world.
It just takes a human who cares.
L.R. Knost
Music for the Soul…
New–
What A Wonderful World — Louis Armstrong
