Love this piece. I had the most incredible experience of “collective awe” at my grandmother’s funeral this summer when I sang “It is Well with my Soul” with a few dozen of my cousins, while looking out on the beloved faces of our parents crying while contemplating our family matriarch, the gift of resurrection, and all the incredible intertwined emotions of grief and a deep joy and the gratitude we all felt to be a part of such an incredible moment. It’s a lot like when you saw the natural beauty of Yosemite—it’s almost impossible to put into words how it feels.
This excellent post about cultivating awe reminds me of an experience of religious awe I had back when I was an atheist that came from looking at something very small rather than very big.
I was training in electron microscopy, and we had to prepare various samples and then look at them using electron microscopy. Of course I had seen electron microscopy images before, so I thought I knew the kind of thing I would be seeing.
One of the samples my instructor had me work on was pond water, because there are a lot of microbes in pond water and preparing the samples involved all the techniques I had been taught. I also thought I know what I would see here, too, because what aspiring biologist hasn't seen critters in pond water through a microscope? So I knew I'd see ameobae, paramecia, that sort of thing.
Except when I zoomed in, the paramecium wasn't the vague floaty shape I knew from light microscopy. It was cute, fuzzy like a kitten.
Zoom in more. Each of the paramecium's hairy cilia are delicately textured. Each one is nested in its own socket. Zoom in more. Each socket has its own intricate details. Language fails. I just can't stop looking. It's so beautiful. The layers never stop.
Now zoom out. In this tiny sample there are hundreds? thousands? of paramecia. And in the pond millions or billions? And I felt the weight of knowing that they are all as intricate as this one.
I felt dizzy and slightly sick, like I was at the top of a very high precipice, about to fall. How could the world be filled with so much extravagant beauty, in the tiniest details of tiny organisms, virtually none of which are ever seen?
Thank-you for this important lesson for us all. Awe and wonder should be a the heart of genuine Christian growth, personally and collectively. I appreciate the examples you shared. Also the reinforcing links between awe, gratitude and elevation are very helpful.
The exercise of discipline and the discipline of exercise. Choosing to search for awe in times of grief or darkness. I have learned the secret of being content in every circumstance…. Thanks for the writing Mr Gooch. 😊
Hi Griffin! I am glad that my little notes about walking made an impression as you were thinking about awe. Certainly, there is nothing like walking with kids to help adults see the glory of God in everything, from dandelions to the ocean.
Being with kids in church does the same thing. We are Orthodox Christians, so whether or church building is a store front or a cathedral, we strive to make the space give glory to God. Icons, lampadas, candles, vestments, and other forms of liturgical art direct our attention to Christ. There is no mistaking a church building for warehouse or theater. For children especially, the visual and sensory aspect of worship is deeply impactful. A fussy toddler is often quieted for a time be careful observation of icons.
I was part of a Protestant arts commune/retreat center for several years. That made a big impact on how I thought about liturgical art. Ultimately, I went through a crisis of faith and then ended up in the Orthodox Church. I do see some Protestants looking at this question (Rowan Williams comes to mind) but mostly Lutherans and Anglicans.
Wow that’s so interesting! I’ll definitely look in Rowan Williams. Tbh, I didn’t know that this was a conversation modern Protestants really took much interest in so I’m very interested to learn more! Thanks so much
This might be a weird tie-in, but... I'm a huge *Dungeons & Dragons* player. Anyone who knows anything about the game would think that playing grown-up pretend is designed to be awe-inspiring.
... You might be surprised to learn that it's not, so much. At least, not unless you do certain things intentionally. "Exploration" is meant to be one of the core pillars of the game, yet players find it fiddly to apply rules to things like journeys and exploration and so they gloss over them. They want to get right into the action, into the story where they're Big Damn Heroes.
Lately, I've been running a game for low-level characters. The world isn't *hostile*, but it is *dangerous*. Fighting isn't always a good idea. "Jumping into the action" could get you killed.
Recently, as a change of pace, I had them happen upon a dungeon during a journey. They tentatively crept inside, aware of their meager resources yet hungry for treasure.
I knew what they didn't: there were no monsters in this dungeon, no dangers beyond a few crumbling walls and brittle balconies. But there were secrets, and treasures, banners and books. There were stories to piece together about what this place had been once, a long time ago, and who lived here. There were beautiful things to see, and I described them in lush detail.
And as I did, I watched them ease up. I watched them sheathe their weapons and stop looking for traps. They started asking questions, speculating, telling stories. They stared at a purpling sunset through a faded stained-glass window they themselves described.
By the end of the session, they'd rolled very few dice. But they'd had a wonderful time. They felt fresh, and rejuvenated, and inspired. They'd fallen more deeply in love with this world we'd been making up together. They'd just needed a chance to look at it.
I'd love to know more about what this means... About wonder and awe, not only as a *response to* the real, but as an innate desire and instinct *for it*, even when it's not "ready to hand"...
Wow that’s so interesting!! Unfortunately I’m pretty D&D illiterate but I think I’m catching the gist of what you’re saying. It’s interesting that you were able to tweak it just a little bit in order to inspire more life-giving game play. Thanks for sharing!
There are layers of thoughtfulness going on here that I greatly appreciate. Also, you got through talking about the shared experience of awe without bringing in the C.S. Lewis quote. I feel like I should give you a high-five...but also the quote is so perfect, I would have given you a high-five if you'd included it, too.
I'm going to nitpick just a tad here: "In the same way we might hear a Gospel hymn and sense the Spirit was working through its writer, so we can stare into vast ceilings of Notre Dame and know the Spirit was in the architect."
If I'm understanding you correctly, I have to disagree. We do not experience the awe of the words of a hymn "in the same way" that we experience beautiful architecture. There is a difference between the awe we experience hearing and singing words that directly, clearly testify to the truth and beauty of God vs. the awe we experience at a wondrously carved statue or even the ceiling of a cathedral. I supposed I'd describe it as the difference between ambiguous awe (stunning ceilings) and revelatory awe (glorious, poetic words that testify unambiguously to the Triune God). This isn't an apples-to-apples comparison.
That said, this is an excellent piece. Pairs well with Paul Tripp's book on Awe that he did a few years back.
Hm. While that’s not exactly what I meant (“in the same way” doesn’t have to imply equality of experience), I do find it fascinating that you had so much opposition to that point. Do you think words are an innately ultimate medium with which God communicates? Asking out of curiosity.
I tend to take Romans 1 very seriously in the capacity (as did Kierkegaard and Tozer):
“For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse” (Rom. 1:19-20).
And while architecture and nature might not be exactly synonymous, the same could be said of words and the nature of divine revelation. That someone who writes a hymn inspired by the Spirit and someone who designs a ceiling inspired by the spirit to specifically invoke awe is interesting. I suppose if we’re taking a highly rationalistic view, then I could see that. But it would seem intuitively that they’re not operating on entirely different planes.
Thanks for your thoughtful response, Griffin, and for explaining more of your thought process. That was helpful. I don’t think I’m being necessarily unfair to your word choice (it’s a “Just as x, so y” kind of sentence), but I appreciate you clarifying. I am more than capable of misreading people.
To answer your question, it depends on what you mean by “innately ultimate medium with which God communicates.” I do indeed believe God more clearly and gloriously and explicitly communicates with humanity through his written Word (thus, words) than he does through nature and visual artistry. And hymn writers, while not writing inspired Scripture, are tapping into those glories by writing explicitly about the truths of God’s Word.
I think it comes down to the difference between clear and ambiguous glory and the kind of awe that results from those things. A hymn can fill me with awe over the glory of Christ’s resurrection (Christ the Lord Is Risen Today), or his atonement for my sins (Jesus Paid It All), or the future hope we have of Christ’s return (Come Thou Long Expected Jesus), or the beauty of God’s work in the church (The Church’s One Foundation). And it does those things explicitly. A cathedral ceiling can fill me with awe, but it can do the same for those who don’t know Christ. The heavens do declare the glory of God (Psalm 19), but they don’t tell me about how one day he will descend from the clouds (1 Thess. 4:16).
I suppose what I’m saying is not all awe is created equal.
Follow up: take the story of Bezalel (Ex 31:1-6) for example. He is the first person in the Biblical narrative that is filled with the power of the Holy Spirit. God then uses him to design and craft the tabernacle. Now, do you think that the words written about Bezalel are more holy or set apart than the work that the Spirit of God did through Bezalel?
No one would know the significance of the tabernacle without God communicating, through words, what that significance was. He has chosen to reveal himself through words.
The great sin of the nation of Israel throughout Exodus is that they do not trust the word of the Lord.
God's presence itself in the tabernacle, his throne as it were, is over the ark of the covenant, where his written testimony resides, and from the mercy seat is where God will meet with his people and "speak with you about all that I will give you in commandment for the people of Israel." (Exodus 25:21–22). It's the place where God will reveal himself to his people through words. The undeniable yet penultimate glory of the tabernacle has a foundation - God's words.
Hm. Interesting take! From the way you're describing it, it seems that you're placing the Bible on par with a deity or another substance of the Trinity - or at least some third space between Spirit-inspired work and God-like deity. Is that accurate?
Negative. I'm saying that God reveals himself in a more glorious and fuller way through words than he does through nature. The Bible is not the fourth person of the Trinity.
Do you agree that we're ultimately after being in awe of a Person? That the goal of awe is to ultimately be in awe of God?
If your wife was an amazing painter (maybe she is!), would you say that the joy you have in her is the same when you look at her paintings as when you stay up together late into the night talking to each other?
Thank you for another well researched and written piece. A literary Sagrada Familia on Holy Happiness in the making. No pressure though.
I think there should be a balance between collective and solitary contemplation. The wilderness was not the only time Jesus chose to be alone with His Father.
After reading this comment I changed my wording a bit. It was definitely not my intention to in any way diminish the value and power of solitary contemplation! I appreciate your note!
Love this piece. I had the most incredible experience of “collective awe” at my grandmother’s funeral this summer when I sang “It is Well with my Soul” with a few dozen of my cousins, while looking out on the beloved faces of our parents crying while contemplating our family matriarch, the gift of resurrection, and all the incredible intertwined emotions of grief and a deep joy and the gratitude we all felt to be a part of such an incredible moment. It’s a lot like when you saw the natural beauty of Yosemite—it’s almost impossible to put into words how it feels.
This excellent post about cultivating awe reminds me of an experience of religious awe I had back when I was an atheist that came from looking at something very small rather than very big.
I was training in electron microscopy, and we had to prepare various samples and then look at them using electron microscopy. Of course I had seen electron microscopy images before, so I thought I knew the kind of thing I would be seeing.
One of the samples my instructor had me work on was pond water, because there are a lot of microbes in pond water and preparing the samples involved all the techniques I had been taught. I also thought I know what I would see here, too, because what aspiring biologist hasn't seen critters in pond water through a microscope? So I knew I'd see ameobae, paramecia, that sort of thing.
Except when I zoomed in, the paramecium wasn't the vague floaty shape I knew from light microscopy. It was cute, fuzzy like a kitten.
Zoom in more. Each of the paramecium's hairy cilia are delicately textured. Each one is nested in its own socket. Zoom in more. Each socket has its own intricate details. Language fails. I just can't stop looking. It's so beautiful. The layers never stop.
Now zoom out. In this tiny sample there are hundreds? thousands? of paramecia. And in the pond millions or billions? And I felt the weight of knowing that they are all as intricate as this one.
I felt dizzy and slightly sick, like I was at the top of a very high precipice, about to fall. How could the world be filled with so much extravagant beauty, in the tiniest details of tiny organisms, virtually none of which are ever seen?
Thank-you for this important lesson for us all. Awe and wonder should be a the heart of genuine Christian growth, personally and collectively. I appreciate the examples you shared. Also the reinforcing links between awe, gratitude and elevation are very helpful.
Glad you liked it!!
The exercise of discipline and the discipline of exercise. Choosing to search for awe in times of grief or darkness. I have learned the secret of being content in every circumstance…. Thanks for the writing Mr Gooch. 😊
Love the idea of “awe walks”
Hi Griffin! I am glad that my little notes about walking made an impression as you were thinking about awe. Certainly, there is nothing like walking with kids to help adults see the glory of God in everything, from dandelions to the ocean.
Being with kids in church does the same thing. We are Orthodox Christians, so whether or church building is a store front or a cathedral, we strive to make the space give glory to God. Icons, lampadas, candles, vestments, and other forms of liturgical art direct our attention to Christ. There is no mistaking a church building for warehouse or theater. For children especially, the visual and sensory aspect of worship is deeply impactful. A fussy toddler is often quieted for a time be careful observation of icons.
I was part of a Protestant arts commune/retreat center for several years. That made a big impact on how I thought about liturgical art. Ultimately, I went through a crisis of faith and then ended up in the Orthodox Church. I do see some Protestants looking at this question (Rowan Williams comes to mind) but mostly Lutherans and Anglicans.
Wow that’s so interesting! I’ll definitely look in Rowan Williams. Tbh, I didn’t know that this was a conversation modern Protestants really took much interest in so I’m very interested to learn more! Thanks so much
That is so amazing...I love the idea of just designing places of worship to look beautiful. We need more of that in the Protestant tradition :/
This might be a weird tie-in, but... I'm a huge *Dungeons & Dragons* player. Anyone who knows anything about the game would think that playing grown-up pretend is designed to be awe-inspiring.
... You might be surprised to learn that it's not, so much. At least, not unless you do certain things intentionally. "Exploration" is meant to be one of the core pillars of the game, yet players find it fiddly to apply rules to things like journeys and exploration and so they gloss over them. They want to get right into the action, into the story where they're Big Damn Heroes.
Lately, I've been running a game for low-level characters. The world isn't *hostile*, but it is *dangerous*. Fighting isn't always a good idea. "Jumping into the action" could get you killed.
Recently, as a change of pace, I had them happen upon a dungeon during a journey. They tentatively crept inside, aware of their meager resources yet hungry for treasure.
I knew what they didn't: there were no monsters in this dungeon, no dangers beyond a few crumbling walls and brittle balconies. But there were secrets, and treasures, banners and books. There were stories to piece together about what this place had been once, a long time ago, and who lived here. There were beautiful things to see, and I described them in lush detail.
And as I did, I watched them ease up. I watched them sheathe their weapons and stop looking for traps. They started asking questions, speculating, telling stories. They stared at a purpling sunset through a faded stained-glass window they themselves described.
By the end of the session, they'd rolled very few dice. But they'd had a wonderful time. They felt fresh, and rejuvenated, and inspired. They'd fallen more deeply in love with this world we'd been making up together. They'd just needed a chance to look at it.
I'd love to know more about what this means... About wonder and awe, not only as a *response to* the real, but as an innate desire and instinct *for it*, even when it's not "ready to hand"...
Wow that’s so interesting!! Unfortunately I’m pretty D&D illiterate but I think I’m catching the gist of what you’re saying. It’s interesting that you were able to tweak it just a little bit in order to inspire more life-giving game play. Thanks for sharing!
There are layers of thoughtfulness going on here that I greatly appreciate. Also, you got through talking about the shared experience of awe without bringing in the C.S. Lewis quote. I feel like I should give you a high-five...but also the quote is so perfect, I would have given you a high-five if you'd included it, too.
I'm going to nitpick just a tad here: "In the same way we might hear a Gospel hymn and sense the Spirit was working through its writer, so we can stare into vast ceilings of Notre Dame and know the Spirit was in the architect."
If I'm understanding you correctly, I have to disagree. We do not experience the awe of the words of a hymn "in the same way" that we experience beautiful architecture. There is a difference between the awe we experience hearing and singing words that directly, clearly testify to the truth and beauty of God vs. the awe we experience at a wondrously carved statue or even the ceiling of a cathedral. I supposed I'd describe it as the difference between ambiguous awe (stunning ceilings) and revelatory awe (glorious, poetic words that testify unambiguously to the Triune God). This isn't an apples-to-apples comparison.
That said, this is an excellent piece. Pairs well with Paul Tripp's book on Awe that he did a few years back.
Hm. While that’s not exactly what I meant (“in the same way” doesn’t have to imply equality of experience), I do find it fascinating that you had so much opposition to that point. Do you think words are an innately ultimate medium with which God communicates? Asking out of curiosity.
I tend to take Romans 1 very seriously in the capacity (as did Kierkegaard and Tozer):
“For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse” (Rom. 1:19-20).
And while architecture and nature might not be exactly synonymous, the same could be said of words and the nature of divine revelation. That someone who writes a hymn inspired by the Spirit and someone who designs a ceiling inspired by the spirit to specifically invoke awe is interesting. I suppose if we’re taking a highly rationalistic view, then I could see that. But it would seem intuitively that they’re not operating on entirely different planes.
Thanks for your thoughtful response, Griffin, and for explaining more of your thought process. That was helpful. I don’t think I’m being necessarily unfair to your word choice (it’s a “Just as x, so y” kind of sentence), but I appreciate you clarifying. I am more than capable of misreading people.
To answer your question, it depends on what you mean by “innately ultimate medium with which God communicates.” I do indeed believe God more clearly and gloriously and explicitly communicates with humanity through his written Word (thus, words) than he does through nature and visual artistry. And hymn writers, while not writing inspired Scripture, are tapping into those glories by writing explicitly about the truths of God’s Word.
I think it comes down to the difference between clear and ambiguous glory and the kind of awe that results from those things. A hymn can fill me with awe over the glory of Christ’s resurrection (Christ the Lord Is Risen Today), or his atonement for my sins (Jesus Paid It All), or the future hope we have of Christ’s return (Come Thou Long Expected Jesus), or the beauty of God’s work in the church (The Church’s One Foundation). And it does those things explicitly. A cathedral ceiling can fill me with awe, but it can do the same for those who don’t know Christ. The heavens do declare the glory of God (Psalm 19), but they don’t tell me about how one day he will descend from the clouds (1 Thess. 4:16).
I suppose what I’m saying is not all awe is created equal.
Follow up: take the story of Bezalel (Ex 31:1-6) for example. He is the first person in the Biblical narrative that is filled with the power of the Holy Spirit. God then uses him to design and craft the tabernacle. Now, do you think that the words written about Bezalel are more holy or set apart than the work that the Spirit of God did through Bezalel?
Yes. 👀
Because of the nature of what God's Word is.
No one would know the significance of the tabernacle without God communicating, through words, what that significance was. He has chosen to reveal himself through words.
The great sin of the nation of Israel throughout Exodus is that they do not trust the word of the Lord.
God's presence itself in the tabernacle, his throne as it were, is over the ark of the covenant, where his written testimony resides, and from the mercy seat is where God will meet with his people and "speak with you about all that I will give you in commandment for the people of Israel." (Exodus 25:21–22). It's the place where God will reveal himself to his people through words. The undeniable yet penultimate glory of the tabernacle has a foundation - God's words.
Hm. Interesting take! From the way you're describing it, it seems that you're placing the Bible on par with a deity or another substance of the Trinity - or at least some third space between Spirit-inspired work and God-like deity. Is that accurate?
Negative. I'm saying that God reveals himself in a more glorious and fuller way through words than he does through nature. The Bible is not the fourth person of the Trinity.
Do you agree that we're ultimately after being in awe of a Person? That the goal of awe is to ultimately be in awe of God?
If your wife was an amazing painter (maybe she is!), would you say that the joy you have in her is the same when you look at her paintings as when you stay up together late into the night talking to each other?
GOODNESS I loved this read. !!!
So happy you liked it!!!
Thank you for another well researched and written piece. A literary Sagrada Familia on Holy Happiness in the making. No pressure though.
I think there should be a balance between collective and solitary contemplation. The wilderness was not the only time Jesus chose to be alone with His Father.
After reading this comment I changed my wording a bit. It was definitely not my intention to in any way diminish the value and power of solitary contemplation! I appreciate your note!