Curious Christian

The Summer Day by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

I recently discovered the above poem, This Summer Day, by Mary Oliver. This poem ends with a beautiful open-ended question. But as a Christian, I can’t help recalling that Jesus similarly asked disruptive, soul-searching questions.

Following Jesus is not about having all the answers. It’s about learning to ask better questions. It’s about wonder, attention, and a willingness to be interrupted. Oliver’s reverent gaze at a grasshopper in the field isn’t so far from Jesus telling his disciples to “consider the lilies” or notice the sparrows. Creation, in all its wildness and preciousness, is part of our call to wake up, to see, to listen.

So today, I’m asking: What does following Jesus look like in this moment, this season, this ordinary day?