The Sacrament of Nature

Nature to a saint is sacramental. If we are children of God, we have a tremendous treasure in Nature. In every wind that blows, in every night and day of the year, in every sign of the sky, in every blossoming and in every withering of the earth, there is a real coming of God to us if we will simply use our starved imagination to realize it.

From Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest.
http://www.myutmost.org/02/0210.html

I have written other places about how my relationships with my brothers and the ocean are sacramental. They touch my soul. Truly, I believe that while surfing, I have communion of the saints, unity with the body of believers, living and dead through this baptism of water and the spirit.

In Genesis 1:2, we see that ". . .and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters."

It seems pretty obvious that as Christ walked on water and the Spirit of God hovered over the waters during creation, so man has a unique relationship with his God via the ocean.

This week was an interesting one. As I was having some significant challenges with partners, a deal and some overall business issues, I felt like the Word was speaking to me via St. Oswald. I went surfing (not that unusual). The surf was fun, I got into a stupid argument with a guy in the line-up, but walking out of the water, I had to pass through a flock of seagulls. Thinking about St Oswald and the sacraments of nature, I reflected on what sacraments I had taken that day.

Walking out of the cold, February water and onto the low-tide, exposed sand bars of wet and compact sand, I had to pass through a large group of seagulls. I slowed down. Everystep I took the brids would fly away as if I was passing through them. It reminded me of Avatar when the main character was touching the flowers at night and they responded to him. It was as if nature and my interactions were connecting in a new way I had never experienced before (except that it was something I had experienced many times before). It was seeing something rather common as an epiphany.

The magic and the pure joy that sprang from my frustration did seem like the pure hand of God liberating my imagination through the sacrament of nature.