Thursday, September 17, 2009

Finding God in an Orange

So I'm eating this orange. This juicy, delicious, liquid ball of orange juice. And I can't help but ask: Why? Why should this fantastic piece of fruit taste so good? Why doesn't it taste completely ordinary and bland? Why doesn't it taste boring and gritty, like a mouthful of the dirt from which it sprang? You could answer that this orange has developed its appealing taste because that taste helps it to get eaten by animals, have its seeds spread far and wide and grow lots of other orange trees. Okay, fine. I'm glad you got that out of your system. But how about this: That orange is one more proof that God made a creation that is delightful. And even though money still doesn't grow on trees, guess what? This stuff does. A creation that is beautiful, and not just a creation that is useful.

Take sunsets too. When was the last time you sat down and watched the sun set? Maybe you could care less. Maybe you're too busy. Maybe you have a hard time sitting still that long. But sometime you need to take ten minutes and go sit down with a drink and watch the sunset (if you're married and do this with your spouse, it might even be considered “quality time” and then your spouse is happy too, win-win situation). When the sun sets, why don't things just go dark like when I dim a light bulb in a room? Instead, plain white clouds turn to molten gold. Vibrant splashes of orange and red and purple streak across the sky. In the face of God's daily canvas, nature grows quiet and still. Far more than just a great artist, God is the one who inspires art itself.

Even a creation that groans under the weight of the curse reveals a creator who delighted in creating the delightful. Truly it has been said, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.” The glory of the Lord is all about us. In golden beams across the horizon, in an ordinary orange dripping juice down to the ground.