Why do I believe I am surrounded by God’s grace?
Part 4: Somehow, those with faith experience the reality of God
I don’t think we are anthropomorphising nature here – and then making nature divine. Rather, it is a reality that we experience: of course, for it seems obvious to the believer, the beauty of the sunset is just a pale imitation of the true and real beauty that is the “real” beauty that we experience. “Don’t you see it?!”. It is so obvious to those who do see it – though equally not obvious to those who don’t. This is one of the great mysteries of faith, that I have looked at in other posts, and will, no doubt, return to ponder again. Presumably, the atheist wants to say that I have made a mistake. I have been enchanted by the sunset – just as they were – but I have been falsely led on to conclude that there “must” be “something else” behind the sunset, when I should just accept the wondrous reality of the sunset – which is to say the wondrous reality of the effect that a sunset has on my mind. They may agree that it is a truly wonderful effect, but it is just something to do with evolved instincts or the ability of a highly developed brain to take pleasure in nature. This is, to repeat, a point of view that is impossible to measure and so is a belief system, just as much as my belief in something more than the sunset is a belief system.
Yet here I am, in my mind’s eye reviewing the sunset. It does not feel as though I have invented an imaginary “something extra” to add to the sunset. It feels like I am simply recognising a reality that is there. I enjoy the beauty of sunsets, just as beautiful sunsets. I do not always go from the sunset to God. Yet moving beyond the sunset does seem the most natural thing in the world. What might a suitable analogy be? Imagine that you visited a waterfall with a friend and they focused their attention entirely on the point where the falling water hits the pool at the bottom of the fall, and they say how much they love the sound of the crashing water and the spray, but did not perceive that the aspects that they love exist because of the river cascading over the falls. My response would be: “How can you not be aware that the sound and the spray come from the flowing river?”. The analogy is not quite right for it focuses on cause and effect – the sound and spray are caused by a falling river, whereas I am searching for a picture of one thing holding another, but the atheist only sees the “surface” object, not what the object is contained in. Does a cup of wine work? With the atheist only experiencing the wine, but oblivious that they drink the wine because it is held in a cup.
So, I open my eyes and I see God. I am not claiming some special power or being derogatory about those who do not see God – it is truly mysterious to me as to how people cannot see God. Of course, I must clarify my wording: I cannot “see” God. I approve of the theology that no-one can see God, and I am not a visionary mystic who claims that they can see God. If I was such a person I hope that I would have the right thinking to declare that I have not seen God, but I have been granted a vision which communicated to me a sense of God’s presence. Interestingly, this is exactly the same situation as is happening when I see the sunset. So even the very height of religious experience – the mystic visionary – is just the same as the “everyday”, natural experience of the sunset. And we can extend from the sunset to a myriad of other ordinary experiences which communicate to us the presence of God. So, if I speak more carefully, I do not see God but I become aware that he is with me.
Spiritual Devotion 