Ordo Mundi

During the Middle Ages, when chivalry was at its height, there was a concept that theologians pondered called "ordo mundi," which is Latin for "the order of the world."
    One might compare it to the Eastern concept of Tao in that it referred to the dynamic, inter-relatedness of all things. To the Western mind, however, ordo mundi was not the ultimate truth in itself, but rather the result of God's plan for Creation, designed to sustain and make things work. As a popular concept, we generally refer to it as nature.
    Ordo mundi referred to the symbiotic characteristics of all things, and the natural laws that governed them. In other words, things the way they are, according to God's plan. Ordo mundi connoted a blessed quality to Creation, which had to be perfect in that God had not only created it, but pronounced it to be "good."
    The medieval mind had no understanding of nature as science has revealed it in last two centuries. Instead, it had its fingers on the pulse of deeper meanings, the poetry that underlies our experience of nature, and perpetually connects us, in a real way, to what is.
    As human beings, our capacity for thought has resulted in a false perception that we are separated from nature — not really part of it. This has been supported by theologies that view spirit as belonging to some realm other than the physical. The results have been mixed. On one hand, we have encouraged new heights of understanding and artistic expression. On the other, we have treated the environment poorly, to the detriment of us all, and have disconnected ourselves from the natural source of our being. This has allowed us to poison the world we live, strangely justifying our actions by simply saying that it's okay to treat the world as a garbage heap — another excuse for rampant greed that history will condemn us for.
    In Chivalry-Now, ordo mundi provides a philosophical baseline for an authentic, life-generating relationship with nature.
    Despite a panoply of illusion and distractions that appeal to our collective ego, we are not, nor ever shall be, separate from nature. When hubris lets down its guard, we sense and appreciate who we really are in relationship to the world around us. We are inseparable from nature. Prodigal sons and daughters. Indebted and enlightened at the same time. Creatures among creatures, searching to understand.
    I am not trying to romanticize nature, or adorn it with mystical implications. Nature can be harsh and terrible, but it is also the source and sustenance of all earthly life, and therefore recognized as good.
    It is more than romanticizing, when, on a level that our conscious minds respond to with longing and a sense of affirmative repose, the babbling brook seems to whisper words of calming affirmation. When we are fortunate enough to hear them, tree frogs lull us to sleep with the ageless, maternal reassurance of Mother Earth. Chirping birds enliven our souls. The sky lifts our consciousness toward heaven, while the moon humbles us with silence. Instincts merge with and supersede intellect in ways we can appreciate, yet scarcely comprehend. When our emotions turn to nature, we are rewarded with the joy of returning home.
    Lessons learned from nature once comprised our first curriculum as a species, telling us in myriad ways who we are, and who we can be. Even today it's beauty draws us to protect it. It teaches us about love. Truth confronts us with the dubious blessing of its double edged sword.
    Believers and nonbelievers alike are privy to the sacredness of nature, and find common ground in cherishing the experience. Even a rock hints at immortality that we can contemplate with awe.
    The question that remains is this: How do we fit in, with our skepticism, ignorance, blasphemies and hubris? Are we more of a curse than blessing to this planet?
    I don't think so. We bring an undercurrent of innocence as well — and therein do we find our pristine selves, waiting o be reborn.
    As human beings we are charged to discover and articulate meaning that would otherwise not be articulated.
    We can protect, rather than destroy; uphold truth, rather than manipulate with lies; bring honor into the world, forgiveness, generosity and fair play. All this is in our power if we choose it to be so. Listen to the wind rustle the leaves, agitating the waves with its breath. You will hear the inspiration of Camelot rise inside you. You will long for Arthur's return — not the man, but the living myth. You will sense God or Goddess, or demiurge, or what I consider the most miraculous of all, reality as it is. Your soul responds to it like magic.
    These are not fantasies to play with. Poetry, myth and imagination express what otherwise cannot be expressed. You find this in symbols, dreams and traditions. You create your own as well, without even trying.
    When we speak of ordo mundi, we speak of the world we are part of, and honor it appropriately.
    This is part of Chivalry-Now.
    One of its mysteries? One of its secrets? Or just another affirmation of the soul that authenticity demands. Whatever it is, we find it in the bible as the Shekinah (also known as Sophia, or Wisdom, the feminine aspect of Yahweh). Pagan and animistic religions thrive on it. Pantheism derives its perennial resurgence. Even the mystics of Islam recognized its vitality. It is a universal concept wherever human beings exist.
    The difference for Chivalry-Now is that we try to drag this wonder into the light, not to worship, but to appreciate its reasonableness and fulfill who we are.