Lifting Your Gaze

A Revival of Wonder & Beauty

A modern world comes with its apparent benefits. We have, like never before, increased speed, unparalleled efficiency and a well-welcomed level of convenience at our fingertips. An endless stream of information is now only a tap and scroll away. This has undoubtedly produced breakthrough advancements in medicine, communication and travel — and for that I am, with many, grateful. I am able to write this blog on a mountainside in the South Island of New Zealand because of these technological achievements. But there is a dark underbelly to our modern age — one that goes largely unnoticed but is widely felt.

One would think that having telescopes floating in distant space that produce exquisite images of innumerable galaxies would stir up some sense of wonderment. No doubt it does to many. But in our day and age, an image that contains hundreds of thousands of galaxies (please stop and read that over again slowly) can be effortlessly and inattentively flicked away by our fingers as we scroll onto the next thing. If that doesn’t sound troubling, please read on.

Some would say that our attention spans are just cut short. While that may be true, I think there is something else at play. With all the blessings of modernity, one of its main effects has been the decline of wonder. We are so busy looking down that we have forgotten to (mainly because we no longer need to) look up. We have traded in the fresh smell of pine trees for candles, the sprawling vistas for a VR headset and the sound of the crashing waves for a pair of noise-cancelling headphones.

But not all is lost.

The cure is not complicated.

Simply put, many of us need a revival of wonder.

I greatly appreciate this definition of wonder — “a feeling of amazement and admiration, caused by something beautiful, remarkable, or unfamiliar.” The birthplace of wonder is beauty — and this world has no shortage of it.

I was struck afresh by this the other night as I was reading The Lord of The Rings to my kids. If you aren’t familiar with J.R.R. Tolkien’s epic tale, the story is about a fellowship of diverse beings embarking on a perilous journey to destroy a powerful ring and thwart the dark lord Sauron's quest for dominion over Middle-earth. What caught me by surprise again was just how much Tolkien spends describing the mountains and trees, fjords and flowers. His book is not just a daring adventure of courage and the ennoblement of unlikely figures — it is also a masterclass on the flora and fauna of Middle-earth. Not to mention his own invention and use of languages, to which he wrote that he intentionally crafted them with aesthetics in mind (see Letter 131). In other words, Tolkien saw a functional use of beauty and wonder. It wasn’t a waste of space and ink to describe landscapes with such detail and craft scenes of such awe and glory. As you read the story, you can’t help but be sucked into a world with real smells and sounds, near peril and deep joys. The beauty of Middle-earth (both in landscape and in history) invokes a tangible sense of wonder that the reader can experience.

How is this related to our modern age?

If all our technological advancements and achievements have inadvertently produced a decline in wonder, then our great collective need is to lift our gaze up and out to see the beauty all around us. God created this world with intentional and reflective design, which means His glory (another word for beauty) is embedded into every living thing. This is what a delicious meal, or a moving story, or a light-roasted cup of coffee (because dark-roasted is a product of the fall) can do — it lifts our senses to a higher plane — it reminds us that there is beauty beyond the ones and zeros of our efficient lives. It awakens the sense of awe that we were created to live with.

When was the last time you stopped and listened to the song of the birds? Or the last time you laid down on some grass with a blanket and gazed at the stars above? Or the last time you just sat on the beach and listened to the unceasing crashing of the waves (without your phone in your hand)? Or the last time you examined a fallen leaf?

You might feel weary, jaded, cynical and hopeless — not just because you lack sleep or have a difficult job — but because you haven’t gazed at something beautiful and allowed it to move you to a place of wonder and awe. We were created for this kind of glory — it’s like fuel to our souls, and if you go too long without it, you feel like you are running on fumes.

Lift your head from your screens.
Look up and look around.
There is beauty all around you.
And you need it more than you realize.