“Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty; the WHOLE EARTH is full of His glory”. Isaiah 6:3

Today I worshipped in The Cathedral of Creation.  It is the first one ever built by the Master Architect; God.  St. Francis once said that nature was the first bible ever written, which makes the case for claiming creation to be a very sacred context in which to worship very valid.  Prior to the construction of church buildings,  Celtic Christians used to place large “circle crosses” in open spaces and gather there.  Imagine the money that could be saved on building upkeep and spent on the poor if Christians continued to do so.  The current Corona climate makes it impossible to have the large gatherings many are accustomed to.  Furthermore for those of us working from home we are already spending far too much time in front of our screens working which makes joining a virtual church service unpalatable if not impractical.  Thus the decision to set forth in natural space was easy, and easily justifiable.  NO Lutheran guilt here!

 There are countless locations in Colorado in which to enter into this prototypical church atmosphere, the one I chose was Hall Ranch, located just outside the lovely little town of Lyons.  The first thing I noticed as I began my 3 ½ hour walking worship service was the splendid rock formations and geological striations protruding from the surrounding hills. The clay colored veins running perpendicularly with a slight declension,  the two protruding castle-like outcroppings, the evergreens that dotted the steep slopes and the red rivulets of earth running down like arteries forming huge fissures made me think of the Original Designer and the masterful brush strokes of The Artist.   The words of Psalm 8 came to mind, “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Thy name in all the earth.”  And following, “What is mankind that You are mindful of us?”  What are we indeed?  We shrink in the presence of such primitive grandeur.  Our own sense of self-importance trickles away like the small streams that I cross.  This is a chance to simultaneously be humbled and also in awe that the One who made all of this also took the time and interest to create each one of us.  Truly we are fearfully and wonderfully made, as pronounced in Psalm 139!

Continuing on I soon see a small herd of mule deer contentedly grazing on shrub grass.  I count eight, though some may be hidden from sight due to their natural brown color which serves them well as camouflage.  One is slowly picking its way around the edge of a small pond, as if trying to decide whether to take a drink or a dip.  The deer are undisturbed by the people that are passing by, having become acclimated to the human traffic which in this Eden-like setting presents little or no threat.

There aren’t many people on the trail, it is too early for most.  But those that are prove to be quite friendly.  A simple “hello, how are you?” replaces the more common ecclesiastical greeting of “peace be with you.”  Perhaps the peace that is being experienced needs no verbal expression.  I find most of the people to be quite friendly and engaging.  Yes, all of us are keeping our distance, but there is a connection that we share and thus exchange social pleasantries and smiles.  It is refreshing to share a bond of brotherly and sisterly love that is safe and non-sectarian.  Here it doesn’t matter what you believe, who you are, or whom you place faith in.  There is no need to worry about what others might think about what you are wearing, or what they might say about what you have (or have not) been doing.  The gossip brigade is nowhere to be found.  Here is a lesson to be learned and practiced by those who frequent man-made cathedrals.

In these surroundings it is easy to fall into a prayerful and meditative mindset.  To have an attitude of gratitude for having the privilege of being in this place at this time comes easy.  And then to intentionally think of others, beginning with those who are closest, family and loved ones, and then expanding the list to include the names of friends and neighbors.  But in these times, and in fact at all times, one must consider the countless unnamed others and the myriad of ways they are being affected by the current pandemic.  For me personally my thoughts center on the children in Cambodia and how they are faring during this time.  Just as in my daily life, it is easy to be distracted while praying, so too in this context.  Here it is creation’s concerto being performed by rustling tree branches and birds singing a sacred sonata in this sacred open space.  Musicians like Beethoven himself were inspired in such settings.  Though having lost his hearing he was still able to listen to the divine.  He said that on his frequent forays in nature it was as if the forest was calling out “holy, holy, holy.”  

Passing through a large grove of evergreens I notice small blue berries on a Juniper.  Pressing one between my fingers the pleasant aroma associated with gin assaults my senses.   Here is only one aroma of nature’s incense which, when sniffed deeply results in the stimulation of both the mind and memory.  An aroma pleasing to the Lord was part of the purpose of Old Testament sacrifice.  How, I wonder, could anything be more pleasing than the myriad of natural smells provided by the flora in this mountain forest?

Finally I reach my destination, a large sloping glade from which Longs Peak, perhaps the most familiar in Colorado, is easily visible.  Cloaked in winter snow it’s jagged peaks appear cold and uninviting.  Seeing it provides a reminder of all the mountains that were so significant in the Scriptures.  Is it any wonder that God so frequently chose to reveal Himself on these high places?  It is here, perched on a large outcropping of rock, that I commune most intimately with the divine.  I partake of a solo sacrament consisting not of bread and wine but an apple and water, signifying the life which God gives and the bounty provided to sustain it.  Sweet Communion.  The sound of wild turkeys gobbling interrupt my solitude and I set off to see if I can see them. Failing to do so I turn and begin walking back down the trail, now facing a cool and gentle breeze.  It is as if the Spirit, the breath of God, is sidling up against my face to resuscitate my spirit and reassure me that with this One, all is always good.

Too soon I find myself back at my car.  I have been gone for almost four hours.  It seems like time has stood still.  On the drive home I savor the moments that were spent in that space, time suspended in eternity in the presence of God and Creation.   And I realize that indeed, I was in church.  For isn’t that the purpose of church; to be in the presence of the Holy, to have intimate communion with God and others in community; and to be filled with the gifts of peace and joy and love and contentment, all gifts of the Spirit.  I am a visitor here who has been warmly welcomed to this unique congregation and invited to return.  It is certain that I will.