STELLA MARIS

Pederson offers a series of faith-infused reflections on life and nature.

The title of this book refers to a favored Catholic honorific for the Virgin Mary, the “Star of the Sea”; this reference guides the reflections in these pages, which are intended to reflect the traditionally “Marian” qualities the faithful have found in Mary’s various appearances in the Gospel, where she’s often seen as quietly contemplative (Luke 2:19) or the supreme embodiment of faithful acceptance (Luke 1:38). But, as Pedersen quickly points out, although his book is “an attempt to enter into and fully inhabit that blessed Marian silence and, to, thereby, evoke the wondrousness and the splendor of how the Spirit travels through us and into our lives,” he readily acknowledges that Mary’s name scarcely appears in the text. He instead focuses on capturing the “peacefulness that passes understanding” in more generalized terms, sometimes referring to a concept called an “OmniSoul,” a kind of disembodied, depersonalized background-field sentience. The author makes some provocative claims about this phenomenon, including the contention that rocks have souls: “Know then that the OmniSoul, ever contemplatively quiescent, is present in any least creature or stone.” Each of the book’s sections consists of a brief assemblage of thoughts and observations, usually grounded in Pedersen’s reactions to the natural world around him. “We see rivers which run, like dreams,” he rhapsodizes. “We see mountains which rise up from the earth, white clouds that glory through blue sky, above the green trees; lakes with surfaces of silver and blue.”

Pedersen writes with the kind of contemplative calm he’s trying to encourage in his readers; this is a very soothing volume, as easily consumed in piecemeal, random selections as it is read front-to-back. Much like its subject, the book lacks a firm form—passages seem to wander on and off the page for no discernible reason, in no real order, and often border on the incoherent. “I realize that I am content,” he writes at one point. “I observe my thoughts as they pass into a future that has become an atmosphere of supreme trust; I know that my faith is strong enough, and I am suddenly convinced that the trajectory of my life is influenced somehow by the all-knowing omnipotence of a guiding hand, that is a friend to man, and a friend of my own.” Rhetoric like this is clearly aimed at a target audience of spiritually/religiously oriented readers, as other constituencies presumably don’t require an all-knowing omnipotent guiding hand to enjoy a peaceful morning in the woods. Frequently throughout the book, Pedersen’s enjoyment of being alive elevates his prose to appealingly enthusiastic heights, as when he refers to “the sound of the mystic blood, throbbing in its dark thunderous furrows, and pulsing as the temple veins of the living body.” The book’s recto pages are left completely blank, leaving readers plenty of space for writing their own reactions.

An impassioned if meandering collection of thoughts arising from the peaceful contemplation of life.