The Book of Nature

I sat in my backyard, deeply immersed in the final chapter of The Book of Nature: The Astonishing Beauty of God’s First Sacred Text by Barbara Mahaney when several young men appeared at my doorstep in hopes of selling me pest control services. The interruption jarred me. They earnestly and loudly launched into a persuasive sales pitch about how all my neighbors had hired them to get rid of “bad bugs” with an “environmentally safe” pesticide that could be applied once a month. Wouldn’t I like to join the crusade? Imagine their puzzled looks when I sanctimoniously stated that I do not desire to annihilate insects. This is nothing new. I have long been known to capture spiders with paper cups for release. However, my implacable-sounding resolve took me by surprise. Clearly, Barbara Mahaney’s insights had further renewed my fierce respect for all living things.

When I went back to reading, I paused first and sank into a kind of reverie. A few bees circled blooming succulent plants. A pesky dragonfly landed on my arm. My rambunctious cat acrobatically scaled our enormous star pine tree. I felt poised on the threshold of earthly, liminal, and heavenly spaces displayed in these ordinary sightings. I thought about the author, her beautiful prose, meticulous research, and gift for seeing beyond the surface and felt a surge of love and gratitude for this wonderful new take on the “sacred text that needs no translation, unfurled without words.” (6)

Barbara Mahaney intuited when she was very young that the natural world was “God’s cathedral” but as an avid reader and prolific writer, she set out to uncover proof from other sources. Research took her back to an “awe-infused field guide,” called The Book of Nature dating from 1481 (author unknown), and another similar writing from 1615 by Galileo. She also read Tertullian who wrote eloquently in the second century about God’s presence hidden in plain sight. Using the Russian doll method of reading, that is, one book leading to another, another, and another, Mahaney found out that all writers ended with the same conclusion: “God infused the natural world with symbol and meaning and if we learn to read what’s there we might more fully comprehend the Creator.” (2)

“I read with my heart and my soul wide open. I read with my loam-stained mitts sunk deep in the earth, and my mud-splashed boots crunching the autumn woods. I read with my nose to the glass from my upstairs nook. I read while taking out the trash and when dumping sunflower seed in the backyard feeder. I read when the rain taps at my window and awakes me from slumber. I read when I open my eyes to an ice-crystal dawn. And the more I read, the more I see and feel and hear. . .my God reaching out to me in all God’s astonishments and beauties and wonders. It’s a book without end and I’ll never stop reading.” (5)

Mahaney also re-read the bible and other sacred books alongside her research on God’s presence in nature. She discovered they all radiate with the belief that wind, water, land, plants, trees, and wildlife, are a “panentheism” that cannot be denied. Deus absconditus, the hidden God, shouts from every stone and sunflower if the eyes and ears and heart are fully awakened. (14)

As a spiritual director, I take notice when my companions speak capaciously about divine intimations in the natural world. I also note the absence of such talk. The difference between the two in the evolution of spiritual awareness is noteworthy.  The journey inward inevitably beckons us to connect with the earth, the elements, flora and fauna, as an essential step, and one that is life-long. In either case, I frequently suggest reading more about nature as a springboard for contemplation–taking a walk, sitting at water’s edge, collecting rocks and weeds, listening to birdsong. The ancient practice of connecting to the natural world feeds both body and soul. Eloquent words and beautiful insights, such as those provided by Barbara Mahaney, are powerful catalysts to get the sacred alchemy going.

For instance, I saw the film “Oppenheimer” at the same time I was reading this book. Like so many others, I was stunned by the story behind the development of the atomic bomb and could not get my mind off the devastating after-effects on our world. Struggling mightily, my spirits were uplifted when I read Barbara Mahaney’s words: “Most famous is the story of the seeds of Hiroshima. . .Barely a month after the bombing, though, rising from the charred bits, less than half a mile from the explosion’s radioactive center, red canna lilies and delicate wildflowers began to sprout and bloom amid the wasteland.” (39) She then quotes John Hersey’s article in the New Yorker, “Out of horror, erupted beauty. Ever since, the survivor seeds of Hiroshima have been revered in Japan, ‘the faith that grew out of the ashes.’” (40)

The Book of Nature has edified my life and I recommend it with dogged determination to spread the word, and support Barbara Mahaney’s beautiful vision that a return to nature is a return to our divine origins. “It’s a book without end, and I’ll never stop reading.” (5)