I’ve recently discovered that I like reading nature writing, particularly spiritual nature writing, and, as my reading log betrays, during the last month I’ve gone on a bit of a spiritual nature writing binge. I’ve enjoyed Terry Tempest Williams’ An Unspoken Hunger, Jane Goodall’s Reason for Hope, Stanley Kunitz’ The Wild Braid, and Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s Gift from the Sea, and on my “to read next” list are Diane Ackerman’s Deep Play and Edward Abbey’s Desert Solitaire.
All of this reading about the relationship of spiritual things and the natural world has prompted me to think about the relationship of the spiritual and the natural in my own experience. In particular, it has made me think about Seventh-day Adventism’s relationship to the natural world and about what Seventh-day Adventism has taught me about nature. Though I’ve only had limited experience with other faiths, I’m beginning to think that the SDA faith has made me appreciate nature more than other faiths might have.
Seventh-day Adventism stresses the relationship of spirituality and nature in important, if not immediately obvious, ways. For instance, in her writings, the SDA prophetess Ellen White heavily emphasizes the role of nature in one’s spiritual journey. I’ll always remember her famous line from the opening chapter of Steps to Christ–“‘God is love’ is written upon every opening bud, upon every spire of springing grass”–because the quote hung in needlepoint at the entrance to my Seventh-day Adventist grandparents’ home.
The SDA belief about the nature of man may also contribute to its interest in nature. Many Christian denominations believe that a person’s body and soul can be separated and, in fact, are separated at death. SDAs, however, lean on the Hebrew term nephesh–meaning a living being composed of an inseparable body and soul–which is used to describe the human person in Genesis 2:7, and they argue that a person’s flesh and spirit are thus inseparable. The consequences of this doctrine are far-reaching. If the human person is composed of both a body and a spirit together, the natural and the spiritual realms are inextricably linked. Moreover, if a human is created to be as much flesh as he is soul, his flesh–and by extension the fleshly or natural world–is esteemed more than it might be in faiths that shun fleshly things. For an SDA, the natural becomes something to be prized.
Finally, I think the SDA emphasis on the Sabbath contributes to the value it places on nature. The classic Sabbath afternoon activity–one with which I grew up–is the trek into nature. Whether a mountain hike, a trip to the beach, a visit to the local nature museum, or just a walk around the neighborhood, SDAs frequently spend the hours after their hearty Sabbath lunches enjoying the out-of-doors. In fact, for some traditional SDAs, one of the only acceptable excuses, outside of sickness, for missing church is spending Sabbath morning in nature.
I am extremely thankful for what my SDA upbringing has taught me about the connection between the natural and the spiritual realms. Whether or not I buy all of the theology behind the SDA esteem of nature, I think the idea that nature and spirit are inseparable is beautiful and powerful. In fact, it’s an idea that I think SDAs could take even farther than they do. Particularly after my reading of nature writing, I am even more convinced that as human beings we need to be more careful about how we treat our environment, and I think SDAs, if they would go a few steps further in their thinking, could make a significant contribution to the effort to preserve our world.
