To wake from a spiritual sleep means opening our eyes to a new life. Just as metanoia means to see things beyond our current state, a new day, a new dawn, and the world slowly starts to stir quietly into existence. Sometimes change is a bit more subtle, hidden; we may start to realise we are in God’s presence in the universe. As light moves across the horizon, it creates colour out of the darkness.
Sometimes, we are encouraged, in childlike wonder and the humility of St Francis, to join in the song of Psalm 148. This psalm runs through mountains and rivers, in birds’ flight and the peace of the fields around. Creation is not ours to have and control, simply a gift. This gift is alive, overflowing, and ready to be received with open hands and grateful hearts.
Through Scripture, we see how quickly we become numb to the sacred woven into our daily lives. How quickly do we stop seeing or hearing the holiness that surrounds us? The incessant rush of life, the never-ending list of things to do, and the need to ‘succeed and prosper’ can easily dull our senses until the world seems ordinary and the sacred mysteries begin to fade. Caring for the earth and all who live here doesn’t happen quickly; it has to happen in peace. It begins with the look that really sees and the heart that waits and welcomes.
In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus points out the ravens, which neither sow nor reap, and the lilies, which neither spin nor toil. He asks us to let go of our anxious striving and fear. He is telling us to thank God for the tender, abundant provision that brings beauty and sufficiency to the world.
To view the world through these eyes is to enter the newness Paul speaks of: one connected to the earth (the Book of Genesis says that the Spirit renews), a life we live together. St. Francis saw the sun, the moon, the water and the earth not as tools to be used but as brothers, sisters and kin to one another, members of a great family with dignity and purpose.
To be awakened to God’s creation is to be in a circle of grace; to be welcomed into the midst of grace is one of those things in this communion that makes us reverent and grateful. Wonder shapes how we see. Awe settles in our hearts. Each morning inspires us to care for what we have, cherish what we are offered and love what we have received.
Every new day invites us to respond to the wonder of being alive. We might be right to sing with the psalmist, bless as Francis did, trust as Jesus invites us to. But watching is not enough. As stewards, we are responsible for the earth, for justice for the weak, and for living in kindness and humility.
Spiritual awakening is not a journey alone, but a pilgrimage we begin upon together. It brings us closer to God, to each other, to all the other people and to everything in creation. Each day offers a new invitation: to see, to love, to enter this sacredness all around us, always present and always waiting to be received.
