How Great Thou Art

(Warning: This post could get somewhat obscure.)

This morning on my walk I was awed, as always, by the wonder of creation.  There's always something to see or hear or touch or smell (taste only with caution!).  Sunrise, clouds, bushes, trees, rabbits . . . the usual cast of wondrous creatures.  And I, in the midst of it, praise God.

And I think about the distinction between creation and creator.  I was taught that this distinction is essential to proper theology and worship.  "Worship the creator, not the creation/creature."  But if God is in the creation, as I believe and sense, this distinction is problematic.  Here are some of the problems that came to me:

What is gained by separating creator from creation, positing a creator "behind" the creation?  This seems to me a hangover from Platonism.  At the limit it curbs idolatry, so that I don't start worshipping particular creatures or artifacts, but I don't think I have to go all the way to a creator that is separate from the creation.  I need the distinction between them, but I don't need to separate them.

Who is the "I" that worships?  I too am part of this creation.  If God is not behind or separate from creation, neither am I.  My ego consciousness approaches the world as separate, but my deepest awareness is that we are all one.  The "I" that worships is a tiny ship bobbing on the sea of Self that is one with God and with creation.

And what is this "worship"?  I think worship is the I approaching the creation as Thou, as separate.  In the land where all is one, worship doesn't make sense to me: there is no I to worship, no Thou to be worshipped.  But in the land of I and Thou, of ego and object, worship is the closest I can get to union.

So I walk.  I see the sky and I say, "Thank you.  Thank you for letting me be part of this, and letting me be aware of it as a creature.  Thank you for letting me be the sort of creature who can be aware on this level."  I address the creator, because that's what my language allows and my ego consciousness needs.  But on another level, I say nothing.  There is nothing to say, no one to say it, no one to receive it.  It's said, it's done, it is.  And that feels to me like worship.

Now I go inside, to our chapel.  I will say Morning Prayer, with its psalms and readings and hymns and prayers.  I will address God as the one who creates, and the one who receives us when we return to dust.  I will do my best, with my feeble "I," to remember my essential unity with this immanent, omnipresent God - including the faces of those I will serve today.

May you worship today, in whatever way brings you closest to the God who is closer than your own breath.  May you know the wonder that is bigger than any words, any worship.  God be with you.