Although one might think that all created life should be a hymn of praise to the Creator, it is more correct to maintain that the human creature has the primary role in this chorus of praise.  Through the human person, spokesperson for all creation, all living things praise the Lord.  Our breath of life that also presupposes self-knowledge, awareness, and freedom becomes the song and prayer of the whole of life that vibrates in the universe.      

– Blessed John Paul II, General Audience, Jan. 9 2002

Each day that I make the drive to Ortley Beach, to take up residence in a tiny, very lived-in cottage near the ocean, I am overwhelmed by the blessing of a sanctuary.  While life is a gift from God, it is often hard, and having a place of my own to renew my soul in peace is a gift of which I often feel unworthy, though immensely grateful.

One of the “perks” of this little place by the sea is the Sunrise Cafe where breakfast is served on a deck over-looking the waves. I only have to go out my front door, take a few steps and I’m there. In addition to the awesome scenery, the food is great and the staff warmly pleasant and accommodating – both important attributes for customers who haven’t yet had their morning coffee.

It’s also a wonderful place for a writer like me to decompress and absorb the restorative energy of the ocean. It’s enchanting. But when the dolphins show up, it’s not only the writer who is enchanted. From table to table children run from their chairs to the deck’s edge, breakfast chatter quiets, forks go down and attentions are strained for a better look at these amazing creatures.

What is it about these spirits of the ocean that captures the heart and imagination? Why are so many compelled to stop their ceaseless running of time even for a few seconds just to get a glimpse of these free and powerful mammals?

Perhaps they are a déjä vu for the human spirit, calling to our sacred nature, our sense of what was and what could be if we were to nurture our hearts and souls as much as we do our minds and bodies. Dolphins are at home in the primordial waters of creation. Mystics of the sea. Perhaps they are what each of us has the capacity to be—one with creation, one with God.

I sense that Blessed Pope John Paul II, who spoke often of the sacredness of nature, would have enjoyed this place. It was he who wrote that “nature becomes a Gospel that speaks to us of God: ‘For from the greatness and beauty of created things comes a corresponding perception of their Creator’ (Wis 13:5).”

He reminded us of Paul’s teaching that  “ ‘Ever since the creation of the world his (God’s) eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made’ (Rom 1:20).  But this capacity for contemplation and knowledge, this discovery of a transcendent presence in creation, must lead us also to rediscover our fraternity with the earth, to which we have been linked since creation (cf Gen 2:7). 

“This very goal was foreshadowed by the Old Testament in the Hebrew Jubilee, when the earth rested and man gathered what the land spontaneously offered (cf Lv 25:11-12).  If nature is not violated and humiliated, it returns to being the sister of humanity” (General audience, Jan. 2000).

As the dolphins slip out of sight, the animated chatter returns to the breakfasting crowd and attentions are turned back to the business of the day, but perhaps those few minutes of dolphin-watching will make an impression on some receptive soul who will be inspired to “rediscover their fraternity with the earth,” and lead others to do the same. Even one small pebble tossed in to the water makes a wave.

Mary Morrell is managing editor of The Monitor and author of the syndicated column, “Things My Father Taught Me.” Follow her newest blog, “Things My Mother Taught Me,” at TrentonMonitor.com.