Formation / Witness

The Spiritual Practice of Summer

*Editorial Note: Catherine McNiel’s gorgeous prose continues our mini-series throughout July on the season of summer, our God who finds us outside within Creation, how our kitchen gardens can become a profound place of attentive prayer, with a concluding reminder that the southern hemisphere is deep in the throes of winter’s cold. A few weeks ago, Juliet Liu unofficially introduced this series with her reflection on sustained, deep Sabbatical rest, entitled “When A Day Off Isn’t Enough.” May this season bring renewed joy to your soul. ~CK


This evening my daughter sliced into the large watermelon I bought from the store, and now we’re all standing on the porch, pink juice pouring down our chins and dripping off our elbows. There’s no possible way to eat watermelon on a hot summer day and retain your dignity (or keep your clothes clean). Whatever we were each doing a moment ago, now we’re together, delighting, relishing, laughing. 

My son bikes home from his fifth consecutive day at the pool and it’s readily obvious to everyone in sight that he forgot to reapply sunscreen. We slather on aloe and ice, but for days his red, angry skin reminds him not to neglect this detail again anytime soon. 

Summer is a season that refuses to be ignored. Whether you love it or hate it, whether it is to you a time of chaos or an invitation to rest, summer is loudly alive and attention grabbing. Thanks to long days of bright sunshine, life bursts out everywhere, bombarding our senses. 

We feel summer in our bodies, feel summer on our skin, taste and smell summer, see and hear summer. Bugs biting and mosquitoes buzzing, grills cooking, sprinklers running, fruit ripening, ice cream melting, baseball bats cracking. 

Other seasons may allow time to contemplate new life or reflect upon inevitable decline — but not summer. These months teem with life. 

Considering that God, the Creator, invented summer, its fair to say that there’s theological truth here, and a spiritual invitation. Many of us were taught — intentionally or inadvertently — that this world, this earth, these bodies don’t matter. Or worse, that they are evil, bad, waiting to be destroyed and our spirits set free. But that simply is not what the Scriptures teach. 

What can summer help us learn, or grasp, or experience with our bodies about God and truth that are easier to forget in cooler, quieter days? What spiritual value lies in the early morning sunshine, or in the onslaught of weeds in my garden? 

For one, we remember that God is the Creator, that our story began in a garden, with a Gardener kneeling in the dirt, planting this world by hand, forming dirt and clay into a human-like figure and breathing the breath of life into its lungs. 

For another, we remember that God saved and redeemed this world not primarily through ideas or doctrine, but by taking on a body, walking and talking with us day after day, year after year. Jesus announced that the kingdom was here by declaring bodily-things: the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk. He used fish and bread and wine to help us understand what the kingdom was all about. 

Then, when his body died — God’s incarnate body, like the body of all living things — Jesus was laid in a garden. When Mary encountered him there on Sunday morning, she mistook the Gardener for a gardener, and in that place set aside to cultivate new life, new life burst forth. 

In Revelation, Jesus gives John a glimpse at the very end of all things—which we discover is also the beginning of all things. And once again, the image overflows with summer. All things made new. Thirsty people refreshed by cool spring water. A river flowing, and from its banks grow abundant fruit. A tree, the tree of life, with branches full of life, with leaves that bring healing to all nations.  

Other seasons may allow time to contemplate new life or reflect upon inevitable decline — but not summer. These months teem with life. Considering that God, the Creator, invented summer, there must be theological truth here. (1/2) Click To Tweet

Many of us were taught — intentionally or inadvertently — that this earth, these bodies don’t matter. Or worse – they are evil, waiting to be destroyed, our spirits set free. But that simply is not what the Scriptures teach. (2/2) Click To Tweet

Perhaps a sunburn and poison ivy aren’t the most pleasant ways to remember that’s God’s work in the world is physical, not simply (or even primarily) conveyed through ideas; that God’s approach to us is abundance, not scarcity; that we learn about the kingdom of heaven through things we can taste and smell, see and touch. But summertime is full of invitations to do just that. And if you need ideas for practicing faith in the summer with your body, here are a few you could start with. 

  • Breathe. No matter how busy life gets, we breathe! Take in a deep breath and remember that God’s breath sustains us. Exhale and surrender into God’s presence. Whether your summer is more vacation or chaos, prayerful breathing reminds us that we are physical bodies and our life is in God. 
  • Step Outside. I spend so much time running from house to car to highway to building and back again that sometimes I forget our Creator formed this world intentionally, lovingly, and placed us here on purpose…and remains here with us! Find time to step outside. This is the world God made, the world God joined us in. Whether you live in the jungle, or the desert, or the city (or anywhere!) how do you see God’s handiwork here? What does this tell you about God?

God’s work in the world is physical, not simply (or even primarily) conveyed through ideas. God’s approach to us is abundance, not scarcity. (1/2) Click To Tweet 

We learn about the kingdom of heaven through things we can taste and smell, see and touch. Summertime is full of invitations to do just that. (2/2) Click To Tweet 

  • See and Hear. Summer bombards us with things to see and hear. The sun is bright, the thunder is loud. There’s fireworks and flowers and fireflies. Spend some time doing nothing but seeing and hearing. Soak in what God made and what God is doing here and now. Let yourself be taken aback by a sunset, a storm cloud, or a bird song—and rejoice in the Creator who rejoices in it all.
  • Taste and Smell. They say “Don’t forget to stop and smell the roses” but…have you? Stop and smell some flowers today. At mealtimes, don’t just eat and drink: Taste. Smell. Savor. Let the pollen get on your nose (if you aren’t allergic) or the juice drip down your chin. There’s no time like summer to practice enjoying what’s in front of us each day. 
  • Delight. Do you remember how to play, how to laugh? Can you delight in this life we’re given? Without a doubt, each day is full of pain, struggle, labor, and suffering…but also beauty, love, and joy. Will you let yourself delight in what God has made, in the day you have been given, in this summertime moment? 

If there’s an invitation in this that strikes you, go for it! Remember that the spiritual life isn’t only serious, and not solely doctrine: God’s work in our world is earthy, and teeming with life. 

And today, at least for today, you and I are too. Summer bombards us with things to see and hear. The sun is bright, the thunder is loud. There's fireworks and fireflies. Spend some time doing nothing but seeing and hearing. Soak in what God made; what God is doing here and now. Click To Tweet

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Catherine McNiel writes about the creative and redemptive work of God in our real, ordinary lives. She is the author of Fearing Bravely: Risking Love for Our Neighbors, Strangers, and Enemies; Long Days of Small Things: Motherhood as a Spiritual Discipline; and All Shall Be Well: Awakening to God’s Presence in His Messy, Abundant World. Catherine studies theology while caring for three kids, two jobs, and one enormous garden. Visit Catherine on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.