Posts Tagged ‘beauty’

Finding Our Father and Loving Our Mother: How Humility Can Contribute to an Understanding of Ecological Theology (pt. 5)

February 12, 2018

The experience of perfect love is relevant even though it is rare, because it is the truth. In addition to being an epistemological and ontological claim, this has ethical implications, which are relevant “in this time of ecological crisis.”[1]  The first is the need for attentiveness.[2] We should strive to consider each thing in its own particularity, for whatever exists is special and has value just by virtue of existing. In particular, we should consider that living things are not only of value, but also vulnerable; and being vulnerable, they call out for care. Everything that exists is its own center of activity, doing its own thing, and thus has potential to cause and to suffer harm to other things; living things are particularly susceptible to harm since they can so easily be turned into nonliving things. Most suffer some sort of fear and pain, but even the least can lose its most essential quality, life. To a large degree, this is inevitable; living things need to eat, and often do this at the expense of other living things, either by eating them or competing for resources. But we can start our moral lives by learning to pay attention. Since our fellow humans are so vulnerable and so unique, we can start by paying attention to the needs of our neighbors. This includes attending to our relationships with them as well as any needs they have as particular individuals. But even beyond attending to people, and to living things in general, we can attend to whatever is, and learn to see the beauty in all things and in nature as a whole. Beauty, as Plato said, has the power to turn our attention (however briefly) away from our selves, and towards the goodness around us; and it is when we cease to be so self-occupied and full of ourselves that God can find a way into our lives. Allen writes:

If we then seize the opportunity created by the recognition of beauty, we can steadily train ourselves to move away from a de facto stance in relation to all things, even when we are not at that moment aware of their beauty. In this time of ecological crisis, such attentiveness is exceedingly relevant; for we have been so mesmerized by the glory and grandeur of wealth that we have been unable to regard the earth as a reality which has, merely as a reality, some independence of our wants and desires and hence is worthy of respect. Our self-centered, solipsistic relation to nature now promises to reap what it has sown.[3]

 

 

Allen says that even the scientific study of nature, when done to understand what is simply because it is rather than for some ulterior goal, can be a religious act even if the researcher is unaware of this.  Just by really attending to particulars, without any attempt to draw them into your orbit but simply to appreciate them for themselves, is to practice the perfect love God has for creation, in our own limited way. And in attending to the world and to particulars, we learn to appreciate not only their beauty, but also their vulnerability and need for our care.

Allen discusses four other ethical imperatives which he believes flow from the experience of perfect love.[4] He believes we ought to realize that we ourselves are objects of God’s perfect love. This awareness entails that we ought to be humble, recognizing that this love is undeserved and indiscriminate; God loves us as God loves all that is, because “God looked at all God had created, and behold, it was very good.” But to say we are no better than anything else God has made, just one among countless billions, is also to say that each of us is of inestimable worth, valued and loved in our particularity by God. We ought also to not seek to live in glory before our time. To live in this world, as flesh-and-blood people, is to be de facto persons primarily concerned with ourselves, only partially and fleetingly able to adopt the moral standpoint. To become a moral person is our task in this life, but it will not be a reality until the next, when our awareness will be so filled with God that we finally cease to be self-centered. In one of the few really explicitly Christian imperatives, Allen says we should pay attention to Jesus, not from our de facto perspective of what he can do for us personally but as the incarnation of the God who humbled himself in willing that other things should exist, rather than remaining the only reality. For God, the de facto position of being the center of everything was the true one; God chose to allow other existences to take place and to follow their own nature as independent centers of existence. And just as Jesus is said to suffer for the sins of the world, the Jesus of Scripture suffers when others suffer due to the greed of the powerful and the environmental depletion this causes. For Christians, Jesus both makes visible the nature of God and lives the perfect human life, both telos and role-model; and in both roles we see a figure that embraces poverty to enrich others, showing care for the humblest person and even for the birds of the air and lilies of the field. And lastly, Allen says we ought to forsake the world, not in the sense of ceasing to care about it but in the sense of ceasing to control it or expect it to satisfy our deepest longings. The world is what it is, a lot of particulars that are beautiful in themselves, but finite, independent, and thus incapable of giving us what we really need: to be perfectly loved. That can only come from God, and will only be fully experienced after death frees us from our de facto existence to exist as moral persons.

[1] Allen, p. 72

[2] Allen, pp. 69-73

[3] Allen, pp. 72-3

[4] Allen, pp. 73-80