This particular mini-editorial occurred last night. In no way am I suggesting that if you
duplicate my situ, you will experience anything similar. I do not think that is any more possible than
for me to say, “Last night when I held my wife’s hand, I felt something
indescribable. Here, you hold her hand
too, or your wife’s, so you can feel the same thing.” That’s absurd.
The purpose of sharing this experience and my thoughts on it
is to underscore that a sense of awe comes unexpectedly, can never be planned,
and creates a moment, lasting only a few minutes, to feel as though it overlaps
with eternity. C. S. Lewis spoke of such
experiences in Surprised by Joy, this
title itself being a quote from the poet, Wordsworth.
I do not believe such moments are exclusive property of the
church, singing to the LORD, or meditating on God’s word. The LORD’s unveiling an emotional peek into
His world is at His whim and discretion, using tools we’d least imagine.
For those of you interested in the existential catalyst,
then here is the link, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fs_-DKUimeo. Again, I want to strongly iterate that you
may watch this and think, “You’ve got to be kidding.” The purpose of this mini-editorial is not to
point to or discuss a WHAT, but how the LORD might awaken wonder in us by a
thousand different WHATs. These are
highly personal, highly emotionally charged moments that are difficult to
share; but, if setting aside all the noise of our culture that distracts us,
everyone will agree having experienced such feelings. I am sharing such a moment, not to incite you
to experience one, but to help you remember one that you’ve had yourself. To think of the time that, like the giant Angel
of Revelation with had one foot on the earth and one foot on the sea, you had
one foot in Time and one foot in Eternity, albeit, for just a moment.
Why is it that one vista haunts our memories, or one smile
from a loved one outranks all the others, or a particular song, a scene in a
movie, stanza from a poem, a color of Spring, a hit of the bat, or a crocus
breaking the soil seizes us so that we never forget it? I’m suggesting that is God’s gift to remind
us that the things that we see, touch, experience are but snippets of the
wonders that await us.
My journal entry now follows.
9:25 PM
I was
entering into the diary when I wrote about Snowy
River. Recalling that it was a poem,
I looked it up and downloaded it to the Kindle.
While doing this, I noticed a link to YouTube, guessing this was a
professional reader. More so, the reader
was Australian, and clips from the two Snowy
River movies were pieced together to illustrate the poem. In a word, magnificent. I called MJ over, and, being only eight
minutes, watched it together. The
excellent reading, the scenes, the music created a moment together that would
be similar to C. S. Lewis’ surprised by
joy, those peeks into wonder and awe that screams to the soul, “There is
more than this.” Literally, we
experienced the sensation of eternity. My
hand was on hers for most of the presentation.
Couple engaging in sex often talk of the excitement of climaxing
together. This was a mutual spiritual
climax, unsought for, unlooked for, unprepared for. No forethought could have created or paved
such expectations. I wonder if this is what
Lucy felt like when she first opened the wardrobe and peered into the winter
cold of Narnia for the first time or, perhaps, Paul when he first saw the third
heaven.
As I
think on this I fail to sympathize with the efforts of atheists to create awe
devoid of the supernatural. Dawkins’
book, The Unweaving of the Rainbow,
is dedicated to the (futile) attempt to create awe without God. Even in his own book he laments why poets
have not seized on the wonders of science to share with others what he feels as
he is overwhelmed with the continual insights of science. What he fails to understand is that poets
reach beyond nature, a striving for
something, anything that is universal, eternal, meaningful. Science can never, never accomplish
this. Science is physical to the
core. Poetry, beauty, truth, good,
meaning are metaphysical.
Another
picture by Hubble, a new discovery of a larger galaxy or a black hole beyond
comprehension, pi being calculated to a trillion, trillion places will soon
cease to wonder. All of these are things, things, things. The first elephant that a child sees may
create nightmares. The hundred
one might not even be noticed. The first
dozen pictures of deep space spiraled my mind into awed confusion. When I see one now, I wonder, “Hmm, have I
already seen that one.” The reactions to
things become like those of the viewers of The
Truman Show when Truman was freed, “Hey, what’s on another channel?”
How
many fractal images of chaos are needed before you begin to yawn? (See https://www.google.com/search?q=fractals+images+of+chaos&hl=en&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=enkxUb2fHMT_ygGNv4HwDA&ved=0CC0QsAQ&biw=1740&bih=865 ).
Edgar
Allan Poe wrote it best in his Sonnet to
Science. [The bold is mine.]
Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who
alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
Vulture,
whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged
Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Hast
thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me
The summer dream
beneath the tamarind tree?
Awe
without the supernatural? It will be
easier to have love without songs, babies without smiles, or Spring without
life.
