Death Valley National Park, California, March 2005. Photo credit TheWordWire.

Death Valley is kind of a strange thing to be thinking about on Easter Sunday, no? It's the lowest, hottest point in the Western hemisphere, and has a name that sounds like an ominous warning. Doesn't exactly conjure up the warm fuzzies on a day celebrated for hope and rebirth. Despite the fact that it's a National Park, I likely would never have visited if I didn't happen to live so close. I mention it now because contrary to my expectations, I found myself closer to God there.

Death Valley is a place where you can actually see the Milky Way and feel humbled by your size in the Universe. There are no radio or cell phone signals to distract you from contemplating what human life was like when there were only stars to read. These days we have a different understanding of the world thanks to centuries of important advancements in science, yet this place, like many, still holds some mysteries that Geology can't definitively explain. I'm sure someday a breakthrough will turn theory into fact. Still, It sparks the imagination - a simple reminder that faith is about things we don't or can't know. But even the things we do understand can inspire awe in Death Valley. A place so seemingly inhospitable is host to delicate wildflowers every spring. In a don't-blink-or-you'll-miss-it window between a cold, whip-windy winter and summer heat that explains its name, little yellow and purple rebels pop out of the earth like they're trying to prove that anything is possible.

I'm certainly no religious scholar, but I am interested in history. Since the dawn of humanity we've been trying to make some sense out of our existence, and over time ideas about what God is have changed. There are so many competing ideas about God that we seem to lose sight of what we all have in common: The Earth. On a day that much of the world is celebrating and reflecting on spirituality, I think it's worth pointing out that our planet is filled with breathtaking natural cathedrals and little miracles to awe and inspire. This place is what sustains us regardless of how or when or even if we worship. We should respect it as if it were our collective church.