Joseph Sheppherd, a friend of mine, is an anthropologist who works in the Pacific Northwest. He’s also a gifted storyteller and writer, and among the books he’s written is one called A Wayfarer's Guide to Bringing the Sacred Home, which I had the privilege of helping to publish a few years ago.
A Wayfarer's Guide describes the spiritual connection we have with our inner being, with members of our family, and with the community where we live. It also explores how these fundamental relationships contribute (or not) to our own spiritual development. Sheppherd draws upon Baha'i scripture and other Baha'i writings to illustrate the idea that sacredness resides in all three areas. His premise is that over time, we learn to bring many things into our lives. Some good. Some bad. And that:
Of course, many does not include all. There are at least as many reasons as there are individuals who aren’t at all interested in the divine, in religion, in spirituality, or in anything else that touches on beliefs that go beyond the power of self.
That said, this gem of a book also teaches a lot about perspective, a subject human beings encounter every day whether consciously or not. Early on Joseph uses the night sky as a way of introducing how different perspectives offer very different interpretations of what’s seen, but don’t alter the underlying reality of what stars are. It’s worth quoting in full:
“Our views of the world are as unique as we are. When we look up at the night sky, we all see stars, but our perceptions of what we see may be very different. Some of us perceive patterns and connect the points of light into constellations; others see the interstices, the dark spaces between the stars. Some see the stars in two dimensions, arrayed like electric lights of various sizes on the ceiling; others perceive a third dimension of depth in their varying magnitudes. To some the sun and the stars are different; to others they are the same thing, with the one simply being closer to us than the rest. When we represent stars graphically, some draw them scintillating with five, six, or more points; others just make them dots. Regardless of how we see or portray them, stars are what they are, and their reality does not change. Only our perceptions of them differ.”
Joseph states the same is true of our individual understandings of God, but that’s a subject for another post.
And other books.
Another interesting volume, one that addresses our relationship with the cosmos, is Many Worlds: The New Universe, Extraterrestrial Life, and the Theological Implications. Edited by Steven J. Dick, an historian of science at the U.S. Naval Observatory and author of several works on the extraterrestrial life debate, this volume includes perspectives on the topic from physicists, astrophysicists, biochemists, planetary scientists, philosophers, historians of science, and theologians trained in science.
Not surprisingly, there is a range of opinion expressed about how much concepts about God should be revised as our understanding of the universe evolves.
Joseph’s examples of how human beings perceive the bodies of plasma churning with fusion energy throughout the universe remind me that no matter what our opinions may be concerning the prospect of life beyond Earth, they do not alter its presence or absence. It either exists or it does not.
Meanwhile, in my lifetime, the night sky has already come to mean many things: a source of awe and spiritual connection; a subject deserving of investigation; a symbol of just how much there is to learn; a reminder of my own journey so far; and more.
I believe the sacred resides within it, too.
This awareness is one of things I am grateful to have brought home.
Coming next: Flight of the Phoenix
Banner bus photo created by Dorothy Delina Porter
