Buechner, Tillich: Ocean
“They say that whenever the theologian Paul Tillich went to the beach, he would pile up a mound of sand and sit on it gazing out at the ocean with tears running down his cheeks...Maybe what made him weep was how vast and overwhelming it was, and yet at the same time as near as the breath of it in his nostrils, as salty as his own tears.”—Frederick Buechner in Beyond Words (HarperOne, 2009).
I share Tillich’s awe whenever I visit the ocean or the Gulf. It is an experience of vastness and closeness with Nature and some Power greater than ourselves. Today, I also think about how dangerous the sea can be, as I recall past prayers for friends on the North Carolina coast who were devastated by Hurricane Florence. I recall the extensive destruction along the Gulf of Mexico following hurricanes Frederick, Ivan, Katrina, Michael, Laura, and Sally.
I also think of the pleasure the sea and the sand have brought to generations. The sound of the waves calms my soul. Watching children swim and play in the sand pulls at the heartstrings of the child within me. Watching families, lovers, and children walk along the surf is a lesson in our connectedness to one another. The dolphins, pelicans, and lone osprey constantly remind us of the variety of coexisting life with agendas that differ from ours. The “turtle people” who walk the beach in the early morning, searching for turtle tracks to secret nests, are icons of faithfulness and a caring attitude towards something other than themselves.
I see the ocean, the sea, the Gulf, and the sand as icons of something created out of love, no matter the process. Living by the sea is like being in a loving relationship with a spouse, friend, or children. Whenever we offer ourselves, our love, to another, it can be beautiful beyond words, like the sea.
hurricane laura. Joanna Campbell
Living on the Gulf, we are open to storms, sometimes as ugly and powerful as these hurricanes. But like the people I observe by the sea, we remember that the positive potential of love always overwhelms the possible hurtful negative. The lows are pale compared to the highs. So we keep picking up the mess and forgive the wind, the sea, and those we love, and hope they can forgive us for the harm we knowingly or unknowingly do to them.
Henri Nouwen calls Nature “God’s Hidden Language.”
“Nature is not a possession to be conquered, but a gift to be received with respect and gratitude. Only when we make a deep bow to the rivers, oceans, hills, and mountains that offer us a home, only then can they become transparent and reveal to us their real meaning. All of nature conceals great secrets that cannot be revealed unless we listen carefully and patiently to God’s hidden language.1”
1Henri Nouwen in Discernment: Reading the Signs of Daily Life
“Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/