A Celtic View of Creation

I was going to post on the Celtic view of creation -- Mary and I have been very inspired by the tenets of Celtic spirituality as of late, but then I remembered that Mary posted on a Celtic view of creation in her blog about two years ago.  So, I decided to let her describe to you some of the basic tenets of creation according to the Celts.  Please understand that Mary is a wonderful writer, much much better than I could ever hope to be...which is why I am so happy that she has allowed me to "steal" some of her material for my latest post.  


While Mary and I don't ascribe to every facet of Celtic spirituality, we are very attracted to their focus on hope, love, the beauty of the earth and their wonderful fixed prayers (see Philip Newell)  In addition, we agree with their position against original sin.  Below, Mary will be discussing one of their ideas on creation.  Please please take the time to read the entire post -- it is my hope that Mary's words might guide you into an entire new way of understanding what the Celts call the "rhythm of life as a part of all creation."


It's been raining for 3 days now, almost without ceasing, and I am growing accustomed to waking and sleeping to the sound of rain falling on our roof. If I want, I can spiritualize this rainfall. It seems perfectly predictable and comforting that after such a tiresome summer that this rain would come in abundance. That it would more than generously bring relief, even when it almost seemed too late.

And, on such a night as this, listening to the rain, it puts me in the mood to reflect on some of my readings (J. Phillip Newell's 'Christ of the Celts' and 'The Book of Creation'). If you recall, I originally wrote this post as a warm-up: Creation: Part A. Turns out I am still pondering the same things I did those weeks ago.

The Celtic view of creation has stretched me in ways that I didn't anticipate. Mainly, it has challenged me to be a thoughtful observer of nature and it has caused me to ponder what the gift of creation implies about God's generosity in regards to grace. I am writing again about the first, and will write about the latter in my next post.

Drawing from the Genesis story, Celts conclude that "not only is creation viewed as good, as coming out of the goodness of God, but it is viewed as well as theophany or a disclosing of the heart of God's being." As such, creation is like another form of scripture. "The cosmos is like a living sacred text that we can learn to read and interpret. We are invited to listen to the life of creation as an on-going, living utterance of God." In the West, we have largely been educated out of listening to nature. And, whether we could name it or not, our mechanistic world-view and the doctrine of creation ex nihilo (creation out of nothing) has shaped our society with lamentable ramifications for the earth's life and resources.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I have always had a high view of creation. When we lived at the ranch, my regular form of exercise was to walk down to the river. Once there, I would sit on the bank and rest for several minutes before heading home. Those walks were much more spiritually refreshing than physically beneficial. I remember coming across a group of deer once and being able to watch as a fawn literally frolicked in the pasture - it was like watching a young child laughing and chasing an older sibling. I could have watched as long as I wanted and never tired of it.  It was like watching the true expression of joy and freedom. When I would come to the break in my walk, I would sit by the river.  As I would listen to its sounds and gaze at its stillness, a deep, filling sense of peace would often wash over me. I would let myself soak in that peace until every corner of my being was satisfied.

When I first read 'Christ of the Celts' is was as if the knowledge of creation that I'd always had was finally articulated. It not only put words to my experiences, but infused it with an even richer truth. "It is not as if creation somehow exists independently of God and that God only periodically chooses to express himself through it. That would be to say that God is like an artist who has made a violin that he only occasionally plays. The rising of the sun each morning is the expression of God, as is the beauty of the moon at night." The challenge comes with the agreement. If I agree with this view, then I must be open to observing my surroundings with a different lense.

These past few days, listening to the rain, watching it create a million little pools around the front yard, listening to Grant giggle as raindrops hit and bounce off his nose and face - I think about this Celtic view of creation. I think about the past couple of weeks and Psalm 42:1-2
"As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God." And I think about God's uncanny faithfulness to show up when we need Him the most and to fill us up to overflowing. And it doesn't seem like I'm overspiritualizing at all.