In those sweet, slow moments when my sensibilities are finely tuned to recognize God’s glory in creation, I am dumbfounded by awe and wonder.
There was purpose and intent behind what has been made, namely, to display for universal understanding the ever-existing, divine force of a Creator-King with undeniable preeminence.
The world around us and the people in it are not just arbitrary products of a spectacular accident, but lovingly crafted works of art, designed with precision to reflect the Artist.
“…His invisible attributes, that is, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what He has made. As a result, people are without excuse.”Romans 1:20 CSB
The Greek word that we translate into the phrase “what He has made” is poiēma. From that word, we derive the English word poem. Poetry is one of the most precise and beautiful creative expressions. A poem is not just a random mix of words but a carefully paced working of alliteration, rhyme, metaphor, and simile.
Creation is also a work of artistic expression, positioned to be marveled at and appreciated. We are a part of that display.
Ephesians 2:10 is the only other verse in the New Testament that uses the same word poiēma. “For we are His workmanship (poiēma) [His own master work, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus…” (AMP).
The fingerprints of divine creativity are on the very rise and fall of our breath.
I’ve never been to a great historical museum, such as the Louvre, in Paris, France, but hopefully, one day I will experience the thrill of seeing those renown works of art in person. Can you imagine though? Imagine yourself there with a friend for the first time, and from the moment you step foot inside, while you are marveling at the ornate palace walls and holding your breath as you study the Mona Lisa with your very own eyes, your friend doesn’t look up once. She is staring at her cell phone and seems completely oblivious and uninterested in the singular opportunity before her. Hypothetically, that is a tragic scenario and would probably result in us shaking some sense into our fellow tourist, yet I wonder how different that scenario is from our regard for the handiwork that surrounds us.
What joy might be felt, what marvel experienced if we would take time to meditate upon the visible and invisible wonders of creation?
In a summary of Jonathan Edwards’ essays on beauty, Owen Strachan writes:
If one stopped to look at the flight of spiders or the soft light of a rainbow, one saw a reflection of a figure still more beautiful than these; if one only stopped to listen, one could hear, however faintly, a distant song calling a fallen world to discover the beauty of the Lord.
Do you hear the song?
I wonder how often our joy and gratitude is sapped by a cultural infatuation with expendable value.
This post originally appeared on More To Be. Continue reading…