Nature’s Sermon

Paul Stutzman wrote as he thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail, “How often we witness a scene of great beauty but don’t comprehend what we see. A beautiful sunset, a bright full moon, brilliant stars on a cloudless night. We are too busy to see. The stresses of life blind us. Our eyes behold, but we do not grasp the greatness of what God placed here for our enjoyment.”[1] Nature’s sermon.

George Washington Carver said, “I love to think of nature as unlimited broadcasting stations, through which God speaks to us every day, every hour and every moment of our lives, if we will only tune in and remain so.”

Like Stutzman and Carver, I, too, have witnessed nature’s beauty. I have perched high upon a sun-warmed rock outcropping and watched ranges of mountains evaporate into the distance, perhaps for hundreds of miles. Sitting on a rock ledge, I have also watched the mountains walk into the valley below. I’ve seen the dotted lights of the homes and businesses of those who lived there and wondered how much of what I observed they could see too. Things I could not observe from a car window while riding down a mountain highway.

And I have discovered those breathtaking waterfalls, crouching deep within mountain forests. Ones that shamelessly outperform the drive-by waterfalls. Water gushing from the side of a mountain that originates from who knows where. Water as pure as the mountain air.

But I have also braved storms while hiking and backpacking in the mountains that I would have shuddered to face while hiding in my home. Nothing to protect me but trees, a tent, a three-sided Appalachian Trail shelter, or, in one case, a porta-potty. Storms fierce enough to make the hair on my arms salute. Thunder and lightning and wind so fierce that I wondered if I were about to meet my Maker.

I have sat under the open nighttime sky and marveled at the number of stars winking at me. Stars, many of which I would not see if sitting under city lights. And I have thought how I was only one of billions of people inhabiting planet earth.

And animals. I have watched foxes, deer, squirrels, turkeys, bears, elk, chipmunks, and numerous bird varieties in their natural habitat, behaving as they never would in a confined area.

Additionally, I have observed plant and tree varieties with seemingly no end in the Great Smoky Mountains. I’ve listened to those more knowledgeable than I identify them. I’ve lugged books and used Smartphone apps to identify them myself, teaching my children and grandchildren to do the same.

When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—the moon and the stars you set in place—what are mere mortals that you should think about them,    human beings that you should care for them?

~Psalm 8:3-4 NLT

All of this is a part of God’s general revelation. Those things in nature he reveals to let us know a someone—a someone more powerful than us—is responsible for all we see and don’t see.

But as beautiful as nature is, God needed to go one step farther. And he did. He provided special revelation in his son, Jesus Christ. Through Christ’s death on the cross, God demonstrated his ability and willingness to pay for our sins.

Ultimately, the purpose of God’s revelations—general and special—is that we might acknowledge him and revel in a life lived in relationship with him.

Don’t miss your chance to see God in nature. With the psalmist, let us look up and be amazed.

[1] Stutzman, Paul. Hiking Through: One Man’s Journey to Peace and Freedom on the Appalachian Trail. Kindle Ed. Revell, 2012.

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