Wonder
Tom Soma
Last month, I wrote about “Grace”—sharing the experience of a friend who was introduced to the “fear of God” at an early age. I recently received an interesting response from a former colleague.
“I was brought up Presbyterian,” Cathryn wrote,
and I, too, had difficulty with the “fear of God” thing. I had one friend in grade school whose father actually used to say, “I’m going to beat the fear of God into you.” However, my best friend’s father was a strict Southern Methodist minister and theology professor at Willamette University. I remember having a lovely conversation with him about this concept years ago. Despite his strictness, his theory was this: Somewhere along the line, things were “mis-translated.” Instead of “Fear,” it should have been “Awe”—a loose synonym, he admitted. He reminded me of the trembling wonder I have felt at points in my life (the birth of my son, watching a sunrise over the Taj Mahal, Arches National Park in Utah). He said THAT was the “fear of God” he wanted people to feel and remember. I like that explanation way better.
I like it better, too. The trembling evoked by wonder is far more appealing than the quivering caused by fear. Such respectful awe is also more conducive to establishing connection and sustaining a relationship—with the Divine and each other.
As I travel, I’ve been toying with a set of spiritual compass points to correlate with geographic North, South, East, and West. “Wonder” is my symbolic West (the other three—Gratitude, Empathy, and Humility—will be the subject of future reflections).
As I re-calibrate each morning, I try to cultivate wonder in two forms: primarily, as the pure awe Cathryn associates with unforgettable events and places; secondarily as amazement or curiosity (rather than anger) about things I don’t understand or appreciate. This second kind of wonder lowers my blood pressure considerably. I just wish I were able to practice it more often when something (or someone) gets under my skin!
I’m reminded of the advice offered by William Makepeace Thackeray. “The world is a looking glass,” he observed, “and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it in turn will look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly, kind companion.”
When I look through a lens of wonder, the world truly is wonder-full. And I can’t help but perceive evidence of a force far beyond the scope of my imagination.
What do you see when observing the world through a lens of wonder? I’d love to hear your reflections!
(Burr Ridge, IL)