The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

                                  by Wendell Berry

The world is a hard place right now, and despair is heavy for so many.

In “The Peace of Wild Things,” Wendell Berry responds to despair and fear by lying on the earth and being held by the water, birds, light, and grace of the world. What would it mean to let ourselves be held by all this – God’s creation and love and grace – when we, ourselves despair?

Wendell Berry is one of my very favorite poets and authors. (Our library has some of his amazing books!) He was a farmer, a writer, an activist, and a prophet. Raised a Baptist, his life was shaped deeply by his Christian faith, which he wove through his writing, farming, and advocacy for environmental stewardship. For Berry, faith was not an abstract doctrine or set of right beliefs, but a lived commitment to care for the land and to build community.

The land taught this simple Kentucky farmer about limits, patience, responsibility, work, death, resurrection, and interdependence. He was one of America’s most eloquent critics of consumerism, industrialization, and environmental destruction. For most of his long life he farmed in Kentucky, choosing draft horses over diesel-powered tractors, and crop rotation and manure over pesticides and chemicals. He did not own a cell phone or a computer, wrote with pencil and paper, and corresponded by letter. He died in August at the age of 92.

Over and over, Berry returned to one fundamental idea: we become human through belonging to people, place, memory, and creation. These are themes which echo again and again in our faith tradition and what we practice as Jesus people.

It sometimes helps me to remember that despair and hope are not mutually exclusive, just like grief and gratitude are not mutually exclusive. We can despair and also practice hope. We can grieve and also feel grateful. This complex mix is one of the conditions of our aliveness.

As a church, we hold all this – and each other – together. The grace is that we are not alone. We are held by this earth, by our connection to one another, and our belonging in God. Thanks be to God!

Pastor Linda

When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. (Mahatma Gandhi)

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? My tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?” Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me. By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me—a prayer to the God of my life. Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (Psalm 42:1-3, 7, 11)

Read the Full Enlightener