Reading, for from the greatness and the beauty of created things, their original author, by analogy is seen (Wis 13:5), invites me to pause and sit in my favorite outdoor place, enjoying the beauty of created things. Today, I cannot be in that space, so I close my eyes and recall the memory of the meadow. I hear the little stream, the birds, and the wind in the aspens. I can almost smell the pine trees and wildflowers. I am in awe of this ecosystem, where everything from tiny microbes to large animals plays a part in sustaining the meadow. This reflection moves me to consider what life was like for the people of the ancient world.
The contemporaries of the author of the Book of Wisdom, written about 100 years before the birth of Christ, were keen observers of their surroundings. They appreciated the awesomeness of nature, its ability to both nurture and destroy their lives. They kept meticulous records on the circuit of the stars and the luminaries of heaven (the sun and moon), as their cycles coincided with spring rains and the time for planting crops. They had no control over the dots in the night sky, which seemed to have power over their lives. Perhaps it should not be surprising that they felt the need to worship and appease the prowess of creation and celestial forces.
The Wisdom author cautions that even those who are knowledgeable of God’s works, to the point of speculating about the world, are not pardonable unless they look beyond their human understanding of what they discover to see the Creator. It sounds like the author is speaking to us. We know our home, Earth, is a small, invisible micro-speck in the scheme of the universe. We know the universe is full of galaxies, time frames are measured in billions of years, and distances are in light-years. Do we use this knowledge to draw ourselves closer to the Creator, or do we give ourselves credit for our big brains and what we invent, ignoring the source of the grandeur, and then move on to the next new thing?
Jesus seems to repeat the warning against putting “stuff” ahead of God. He refers to the times of Noah and Lot when humans were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, selling, planting, and building. He reminds his audience that only God is in control; nothing we humans plan is permanent, and all human endeavors are subject to being upended in an instant (the one on the rooftop should not go down for their belongings, the one in the field should not return for what is left behind). I lose my life if my focus is “my life.” Instead, I save my (eternal) life if I prepare for the return of the Son of Man.
My takeaway from the readings is two-fold. First, meditating on the meadow or being in nature removes distractions so I can focus on the magnificence of creation (the heavens declare the glory of God), which then becomes an entry point for discovering what God is like. Observing the intricacies of how nature sustains all living things teaches me that God loves life. God has a preference for life in all its forms, shapes, sizes, and colors, continually creating new life. Secondly, Jesus teaches where to place my priorities. My life and everything and everyone in it is a gift. Praising God for the gifts I receive is appropriate, while also heeding the caution offered in the Book of Wisdom: do not be distracted by what is seen (creation). Remain centered on what is unseen God.
The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmaments proclaim his handiwork.
Gladyce Janky
I joined the School of Pharmacy and Health Profession as a chaplain in 2015, subsequently working in the Law and Graduate Schools and Heider College of Business. I continued working with distance graduate students after moving to Sun City, AZ, in 2021. I transitioned to my current life phase in July 2023, when I retired. I am a graduate of the CSP program with two master’s degrees and hold certificates in the History of the Ignatian Tradition and Spiritual Direction and Directed Retreats.
Writing reflections helps me break open the transformative power of scripture. The message is alive and relevant to me when I put myself into the story. Jesus is not just “back there.” He is here accompanying me. I share what I write with others to invite them to listen to how God is inviting them to greater spiritual freedom.
