For millennia, relentlessly and beautifully, humans have always ascribed meaning and emotion to the world.
As humans we lived in a constant state of enchantment of nature around us: we interpreted the slightest change in the pitter-patter of the rain, in the colour of the budding leaves, in the strength of the waves pounding on the sand. Even before we had books, we could read and we let everything speak to us and reach our human heart.
In a wonderfully eloquent essay entitled 'Enchantability', the author, Jay Griffiths, argues that this thrall with nature should not be some hobby for hippies but the foundation of our survival. "Love of the natural world is evolutionary adaptive: one protects what one loves. The surest way to bring on the extinction of any species - including the human - is to destroy their habitat."
Unfortunately, somewhere along the line, man's evolution took a wrong turning. Instead of building on and making the best of our connection with nature, we destroyed the love and the land. Says Griffiths: "Without the precious threads of love which tie the human spirit to the earth, there is a fissure, now becoming chasmic, between humankind and the world: the wreckage of the climate."
Which brings me to Avatar, the film wooing audiences worldwide with visually dazzling landscapes and nature-loving blue creatures. I am very happy that it is topping the charts because despite its blockbusterish epic battles, it is a film that makes you stop and think.
My friends and I staggered out of the three-hour film all charged up for another three hours of debate on humanity (immensely delightful chats with issues varying from 'Down with the politicians' to 'Can we live without electricity?' to 'The importance of recycling banana skins').
But the Vatican, it seems, is not so pleased. Now the editor of this paper recently chided us for not listening to the Pope. And it's true, His Holiness did make an impressive speech on the rights of immigrants. But it must have been a moment of epiphany, as some days later the Vatican issued its comments on the above-mentioned film, stressing that we should not be tempted to deify nature.
L'Osservatore said the film "gets bogged down by a spiritualism linked to the worship of nature". There were harsh words from Vatican Radio too: "Nature is no longer a creation to defend, but a divinity to worship," the radio said.
A Vatican spokesman made it clear that this was just film criticism, not theological pronouncements - but emphasised that they do reflect Pope Benedict XVI's views on the dangers of turning nature into a "new divinity".
But, excuse me, what is wrong with worshiping nature? I am genuinely baffled on this one. And I will go as far as to say that the Pope got it wrong. It's fine by me if his bevy of cassocks failed to be impressed by a film. But does the Vatican not realise that the only hope for human beings to reach out to God is a return to nature?
I do not consider myself an overtly religious person, but I do think of myself as spiritual. And the time I feel closest to God is when I look up at the sky and see the most amazing cloud formation, or when I see the sun set in a sea of spectacular colours.
We are so detached from our own habitat that sometimes it seems to me as if we are living on the fake set of The Truman Show. Our lives are automatic routines - we do not stop and think about our humanity. Our only contact with nature is through Facebook's Farmville.
Do I stop and think where the milk has come from when I'm having breakfast in the morning? No I don't. And because I am so detached from nature, I am ridiculously squeamish - I think I'd faint if I ever had to milk a cow. I have never ever seen an animal give birth. I have never actually potted a tomato plant and seen it grow. So I hang my head in shame because my life is sorely missing moments of great sacredness - of egalitarian respect to my surroundings.
Deep down in my subconscious I know I am missing out: I still squeal with incredible delight whenever I'm abroad and I see cows grazing in the fields. I long to live on a farm and daily live moments that would turn life into a prayer and I'd feel part of the circle of life.
The Pope is wrong: unless we start again embracing and deifying all living creatures and nature in her beauty, there will be no God but the god of money, of consumerism, and of me-always-first.
krischetcuti@gmail.com