Each time spring begins to make its appearance where I live, I think about Annie Dillard’s wonderful book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Dillard has a chapter entitled, “Spring.” I like Dillard so much because she has the ability to look at things very differently from how I see them. Part of it has to be the biology and science education she no doubt received. I can imagine Dillard is a person who is also wired differently than I am. She simply looks at the world differently. When I read her, I learn so much. She piques my curiosity and asks me to think in fresh ways.
Early in chapter Dillard says, “The birds have started singing in the valley.” (106) I am aware of that, too. I go for a walk and I can hear the birds singing. It is as if they have awakened from a winter’s sleep and want to celebrate the season that is beginning to emerge. Now I know in the Midwest, we are teased for a while. We will get a relatively warm day and, perhaps, snow in another day or two. But there is hope in the air. Days get longer and the sun seems brighter. Not only are birds singing; I start singing, too!
Dillard is her usual funny self when she proclaims, “I plan to try to control myself this year, to watch the progress of the season in a calm and orderly fashion. In spring I am prone to wretched excess.” (108) For pages she goes on examining the natural world with a detail I am unable to match. She says things like, “The woods were flush with flowers.” (112) This is followed by a quizzical Annie asking, “Does anything eat flowers?” I laugh. She opines that “I couldn’t recall ever having seen anything actually eat a flower---are they nature’s privileged pets?”
In true Dillard fashion, soon she turns to some more serious analysis. In this case she used spring as a way to reflect on the nature of the world and of God. Again in a playful way, she speculates that there is intelligence even in the world of microscopic creatures and things like trees. She says, “The trees especially seem to bespeak a generosity of spirit.” (114) She continues, “We know nothing for certain, but we seem to see that the world turns upon growing, growing towards growing, and growing green and clean.” I suspect she is wanting to implicate humans. We are programmed to grow. The question is: are we?
At a later point in the chapter, Dillard turns to examine the sun. She comments, “There is a muscular energy in sunlight corresponding to the spiritual energy of the wind.” (119) This is a fascinating statement. She is describing two forms of energy: muscular and spiritual. Perhaps humans evidence both. Our American culture is quite good at muscular energy. Think about the spending on our defense system. Think about all our commitments to use our power---force if necessary---to keep the order in the world we want.
I have less sense that we are as aware of or have practiced in spiritual energy. That kind of energy does not use force, but persuasion. It coaxes instead of coerces. Spiritual energy originates within…within the soul and even within the soul of a spiritual community. I have experienced this first-hand in a couple wonderful communities. They inspired and encouraged the life and action of members within the community. It is easy to see the hand of God at work here. I am content to think it is actually the Spirit of God at work in our midst.
By the end of the chapter, Dillard is talking about her “microscopic forays” into the duck-pond water drawn and put on a slide to examine the teeming life in that water. She focuses on the life of the tiny rotifer, about which I know nothing. She talks about it in graphic terms: “It zooms around excitedly…” (121). She realizes that she and all of us are as real as the rotifer. She claims, “If I have life, sense, energy, will, so does a rotifer.” (123) We are all implicating a creative and good God.
She goes deeper. “I was created from a clot and set in a proud, free motion.” And so we are all---living creatures in this blessed world. She asks what I take to be a rhetorical question: Ad majorem Dei gloriam? To the glory of God, she asks? I think it is rhetorical because I believe her answer is, “Of course.” Of course, we are created and live and work for the glory of God. That is the “why” of our existence.
This points to a very challenging question. Is my life and are my actions glorifying God? I worry a bit because sometimes I admit I think it is my little ego that is glorifying. Is my quest self-glorification? As tempting as this path is, finally I think it is delusional and leads to no good end. This path may turn me into a competitor. Someone has to win. May it be me. Sorry about you, loser! By contrast, when it is to the glory of God, we can all be winners. We all get to share in the glory. I have things to think about.
That’s what spring can teach me, if I am willing to see into it.
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