Years ago, when I first started seminary, its unusual Anglican practice was the daily celebration of the Eucharist. Indeed, it had been the first seminary in the whole of the Anglican communion to do so. I was thrilled. However, after a few months of the daily routine, I went to my spiritual director (a member of the faculty) and asked if I could attend less often. I explained that in my home parish, I attended the Eucharist once, or, at most, twice in a week. But now, with daily attendance, the sacrament seemed to be diminishing. It was becoming common and ordinary. Sometimes, I even got bored!

He smiled and gently told me that this was normal. He added that this was going to be the rest of my life. The ordinary, and my relationship to it, would need to press deeper into the reality of the sacrament.

Some 20 or so years later I converted to Orthodoxy, and the experience did not change. The Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom is certainly richer than the Anglican strains of Thomas Cranmer, but, day in and day out, week after week, year after year, it becomes as ordinary as the rest of life’s routines. It is not “special” things that we lack: it is the eyes to see and the ears to hear. The ordinary is a miracle – always and everywhere.

We are told that there are over 2 trillion galaxies in the universe, with an estimated 10 septillion planets (1 followed by 25 zeros). Some scientists believe that earth’s life forms are “ordinary,” suggesting that such biological events must be widespread across the universe. Others suggest that it is quite likely the singular instance.

I think we fail to see the universe for the universe, that is, we imagine the universe itself to be “ordinary” because we can see it. The ancients and the Fathers of the Church saw the universe and saw God.

“The heavens declare the glory of God; And the firmament shows His handiwork.” (Ps.19:1)

And this:

O Lord, how manifold are your works!
In wisdom have you made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.

Here is the sea, great and wide,
which teems with creatures innumerable,
living things both small and great. Ps 104:24-25

And again:

Lift up your eyes on high and see:
who created these?
He who brings out their host by number,
calling them all by name;
by the greatness of his might
and because he is strong in power,
not one is missing. Is 40:26

St. Paul has this:

“For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead” (Ro. 1:20)

What the ancients and the Fathers saw was not the result of a lack of science. It was the result of perceiving order and beauty. In Christian thought, we describe that order and beauty as “the Logos,” the “Word,” or “Order,” or “Sense,” etc.”And they would declare that this same Logos became a human being and revealed the truth about God – that He loves us and gave His only Son to make Him known and to reconcile us to Him.

They saw God in the universe (and the smallest part of it), and they saw Him in a man. That Man saw God in them and told them about the Kingdom to which they belong. He taught them how to live.

I have never been able to start with abstractions or reach a conclusion just based on ideas in my head. However, I do understand the Order and Sense of things. C.S. Lewis once observed that if the universe had no meaning, we would never have known that it had no meaning. The Order and Sense of things lives within us. We ourselves are not the Logos, but we speak logoi (words), and we are logikos. We are at home in the cosmos (itself a word that indicates order and beauty).

The modern secular mind sees everything that the ancients saw – modern science has done nothing other than affirm order at the smallest level. The universe is intelligible. It is secularism that denies an Intelligent Design.

However, the Christian faith is not Deism. Though we observe order in creation, we do not leap to a Cosmic Watchmaker. Our faith begins with Jesus. It is St. John’s gospel that describes Christ as “the Logos.” Further, He says that “the Logos became flesh and dwelt among us.” (Jn. 1:14) It is through Jesus that we perceive the true character of the universe itself:

“… we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth…. And of His fullness we have all received, and grace for grace.…No one has seen God at any time. The only begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He has made Him known.”

Elsewhere, St. John declares that “God is love.” The meaning of that word is revealed in Christ: “Greater love has no man than this – that he lay down his life for his friends.” The self-sacrificing love of God is the true meaning of all things. It is the order, the beauty, and sense of the world around us. Most especially, it is the meaning and purpose of our own lives.

This is the miracle of the universe. It surrounds us and shines forth from every created thing. We do not live amidst chaos, but amidst purpose, meaning, and sense. It is with this in mind that St. Maximos declares that human beings are a microcosm – a small version of the universe itself. We are the “crown of creation” in the words of the poets.

Miraculously, we belong here. The splendor of the ordinary is a sacrament that beckons to our heart to give thanks and to sing praises to its Maker.