Keep Calm and Read On: A Yen for Zen
By Wayne Limberg
Reading Karen Armstrong's "Sacred Nature: Restoring Our Ancient Bond with the Natural World" brings to mind the old joke of "how many Zen masters does it take to move a rock." Answer: "Ask the rock, Grasshopper." Armstrong is a best-selling author of over a dozen books, including "A History of God” and "The Bible: A Biography."
Drawing on four decades of research, Armstrong in "Sacred Nature" explores the role nature has played in the world's great religions in an attempt to find answers to today's environmental challenges. The primary question she addresses is why in the face of overwhelming scientific evidence and growing urgency do we seem unable to effectively address the climate crisis. Armstrong argues that the reason for this resides in our basic approach to nature. While Armstrong recognizes the need to heed the warnings of scientists, she believes we also must re-establish a belief in the sanctity of nature that for millennia was shared by the world's great religions.
Armstrong believes that for most of human history there were two complimentary ways of knowing the world, "logos" and "mythos." "Logos" deals with objective fact; it is pragmatic and rational and forms the basis of science and our ability to control the natural world. It cannot, however, explain the meaning of life, and Armstrong firmly believes humans are "meaning-seeking creatures." Enter "mythos" and the stories and rituals that from earliest times gave humans hope and a reason to believe life had meaning despite evidence to the contrary. It was not accessed by reason and logic but by poetry, metaphor, and ritual. Reverence for the natural world of which humankind was a part was a given.
For centuries, logos and mythos existed as equals–yin and yang. Logos explained the what and how, mythos the why. Armstrong argues, however, that as early as the 16th century, European culture began to emphasize the rational and scientific–logos–and over the next three centuries dismiss mythos as superstition or at best, quaint. The Abrahamic traditions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam with their belief in monotheism and a supreme deity that had created the world and given man dominion over it only reinforced this. This was in sharp contrast to Eastern religions. In China and India, what Armstrong calls the sacrality of nature remained a key element; humans were seen not as stewards but as an integral and equal part of the natural world. When Jesuit missionaries first visited China in the 16th century, Confucian scholars were intrigued by their scientific knowledge but chuckled at the Jesuits' apparent belief that their "Lord of Creation" would be content to live in a distant corner of the cosmos.
Armstrong notes that this East-West division was not always the case. Exceptions included the book of Job in the Hebrew Bible and Thomas Aquinas who in the 13th century argued that God was "everywhere in everything," echoing the Daoists in China. Islam continued to believe that nature was one with the divine. Even after the Enlightenment, Romantic poets like Wordsworth revered nature and the natural world, which according to Armstrong, reflected a sense of loss, alienation and denial in our modern age.
Armstrong’s antidote is a re-examination of humankind's place in nature. This means looking East, where, unlike the optimistic creation stories of Genesis in which God declared everything good, creation myths had the world flawed and broken from the start with humans playing a role in setting things right. This mirrors Armstrong's own spiritual journey from Catholic nun to self-described Confucianist.
In any case, inaction is not an option. Each chapter of "Sacred Nature" examines a key theme common to the great religions to determine how it might apply today and help recover our bond with the natural world. In doing so, she offers new takes on old texts. Her interpretation of Coleridge’s “The Ancient Mariner” alone is a reason to read the book. In the chapter on gratitude she quotes verses of the Quran that remind followers that in nature they will find a revelation of divine power and wisdom. In gratitude, they should build just and compassionate societies that enable the world to function harmoniously. In the chapter on the Golden Rule, Armstrong turns to the Confucians, who taught that "do unto others as you would have them do unto you" must be applied to everyone without exception and put into practice daily. Over time, they would extend this to the natural world and cosmos.
Armstong ends each chapter with a way forward. In one, she suggests simply to "marvel anew at the intricate rhythms of nature on which our daily lives depend." In another, she suggests putting the camera away and simply looking at nature for what it is rather than something to own. Armstong has been criticized for the seeming simplicity, even naivete of these passages and she has admitted they are insufficient in and of themselves, but she insists they are a start. And the longest journeys begin with the first step, grasshopper.
Did you receive a good read over the holidays? If so, send it along to wplimberg@aol.com. Meanwhile, keep reading and stay safe. See you on the trail.
