Finding Christ in Nature

2nd Sunday in Advent; Isaiah 11:1-10

Then a shoot will sprout from the stump of Jesse; from Jesse’s roots, a branch will blossom…and you will not judge by appearances or make decisions based on hearsay.

Many years ago, I would go on an annual fishing trip to northern Ontario. At the time, there were no roads to the fishing camp, so we rode in on a seaplane. One of the things I liked about this camp was that it was NOT “roughing it.” Far from it. Three sumptuous meals, beds made for us, the outboard boat motors gassed and ready to go, and a full box of worms already in the boat. And at the end of the day, our daily catch was cleaned and frozen for us. Before you start thinking that I didn’t have to lift a finger at this camp, allow me to reassure you that I did have to put my own worms on the hook.

The fishing camp was located on a lake that had been carved out by the glaciers, with towering pine trees coming right down to the rocky shore. The only sound on the lake was the very few small fishing boats on this huge lake with us, the loons calling, and the gentle lapping of waves on the shore. Most of the time, there was no sound whatsoever. It was, in so many ways, idyllic.

One afternoon, my fishing companion asked me if I could live in this setting full time. I paused and looked around. The sky was pure blue with only a few puffy clouds in view. The air was crisp and clean, and only a gentle breeze moving the tops of the tall pine trees. I breathed in deeply and looked at my friend. “No, I really could not live here all the time. But I sure do love to come here,” I said.

I freely admit I am a city boy. I love the hustle and bustle. I enjoy concerts, the theatre, and dining out. I enjoy being with other people who enjoy these same things. If I were to live somewhere that did not offer these things, after a while I’d be climbing the proverbial walls. I can only play games on my phone for so long.

And yet, I do need to get away into nature as often as possible. There is something in nature that cannot be had in urban areas. If I walk on sidewalks, I can only go about 30 minutes before my back starts to hurt. On a dirt trail, I can go for almost two or three hours. I love to see mountains and forests and rivers poring over rocks in ravines.

One time, we were driving across central Nevada in early spring. The snow was not entirely melted at this elevation, and we were mesmerized by the black basalt rock along the road’s edge. Suddenly, I pulled the car over and got out. Here was this magical meadow in the middle of all kinds of rocks. Little flowers were in bloom. Blues, yellows, and reds, competed with the green grass and the little brook babbling through the center of the meadow. It was like a perfect painting. I stood there longer than I should have, but not as long as I wanted to.

To say I felt God in that moment, and in that fishing boat, would not be an exaggeration at all. In both instances, and on many other occasions, I have heard God’s voice in the small quiet whisper of a breeze. In 1 Kings 19:11-12, the prophet Elijah hears God’s voice in a gentle whisper.

“The Lord said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”

Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.’”

The reading from Isaiah 11:1-10 tells us that a shoot will spring forth from the stump of Jesse.” An image of new life springing from a dead stump has great significance during Advent. What is even more significant is the line a few phrases down where Isaiah tells us that because of this, “you will not judge by appearances or make decisions based on hearsay.” How true this is! I cannot experience God in nature and then be unloving to my neighbor. I cannot experience God – and be unloving to my neighbor.

If I am to seek Christ in one another during Advent, then I need to first seek Christ for myself. For me, I do that most easily in nature, wherever I may experience it. It is when I am conscious that God is within me, that I can be Christ to others.

Every Day.

© 2025 by Timothy J. Doppel

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