Why when we
are in the front of majestic beauty in the countryside do we tend to lower our
voices to talk in an almost reverential tone? It doesn’t matter if you are the
only two people there and wouldn’t disturb anyone, we tend to become quieter as
it we don’t want to disturb the beauty. What is it that strikes us with awe?
I had the joy
of that experience recently as I stood in the drizzle on a trail where we had
seen only two other people in the previous 90 minutes and looked at the
splendour of the Jacques-Cartier river and the Laurentide mountains in one of
Quebec’s national parks.
How do we
explain this awe and the effect that it has on us. As a believer in God I would
say our Creator made us able to see the glory of other parts of his creation
and yet that still doesn’t seem a complete enough explanation. The mystery of
that which is beautiful and yet so partially known can be almost overwhelming.
My friend on
the walk does not share my faith and would describe herself as an atheist yet
she too commented on how the splendour of the scenery caused us to
unconsciously whisper. I lacked the courage or the opportunity to ask her why
she thought it were so as clearly her perspective may be a little different
that my own.
I drafted
this post about two months ago now, but was reminded of it over the weekend as
I listened to a Jew, a Muslim and a Christian describe paradise from the
perspective of their tradition. The white British iman explained that as a
Muslim he believes much as the Christian and Jew would that we come from a garden,
which is described in Scriptures as the Garden of Eden. He further believes
that we will return to the garden of Paradise and our love and awe of nature
comes from a sense of nostalgia, a sense that this is where we come from and
where we ultimately belong.
