He alone stretches out the heavens and treads on the waves of the sea.  He is the Maker of the Bear and Orion, the Pleiades and the constellations of the south.  He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot be counted.  When he passes me, I cannot see him; when he goes by, I cannot perceive him (Job 9:9-11)

In conversation with his accusative “comforters,” the patriarch Job often spoke truth.  In this portion of the dialog Job points out the greatness of God and His wonders—yet notes also the invisibility of God.  It is this same point that the apostle Paul makes in his letter to the Roman church (Romans 1:20).  The Creator cannot be seen.  His qualities, however, do reveal truths about Him.  The awesome nature of the created world does show us that He has power that is eternal (no doubt the reason mankind cannot determine the beginnings or endings of time or space) and He has a divine nature (meaning that what we see around us should compel us to worship—worship Him, not worship the things He has made).

Following are three more aspects of the wild natural world that demonstrate further His eternal power and divine nature:

Constant recreation. One of the most significant aspects of the wild is that when we enter it, we come nearest to being present at the Creation. In the wild God’s work is still going on. Christian philosopher Wolfhart Pannenberg exclaims:

“The creation does not remain what it was at its point of origin. It changes. It develops. New forms appear. New things happen. There is a sense in which one can say that creation ex nihilo [out of nothing] is complemented ex continua, continuing creation. . . . The faithfulness of the creating God continues to conserve the existence of this world while drawing it forward toward a new and transformed state of existence.”

God in Jesus Christ rested from the original work of creation, but we can praise Him that He still works in the process of its continuation and its redemption:

[The Father] has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins. He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by Him all things were created that are in heaven and that are on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers. All things were created through Him and for Him. And He is before all things, and in Him all things consist. And He is the head of the body, the church, who is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in all things He may have the preeminence. For it pleased the Father that in Him all the fullness should dwell, and by Him to reconcile all things to Himself, by Him, whether things on earth or things in heaven, having made peace through the blood of His cross. (Col 1:13-20 NKJV)

How thrilling it is to contemplate in the unspoiled regions the divine Trinity’s ultimate purpose for us—to be looking for and working in the power of God the Holy Spirit toward the time when God the Son will come and reconcile all things to God the Father.

Unfathomable complexity and incredibly informed design. Academia asserts that the natural world is the result of uncomplicated basic elements acted on by simple forces in an entirely random and undirected manner. But common sense alone teaches us that the material world is irreducibly complex and its features are obviously the result of a purposeful plan. Every year millions of words are written and hundreds of thousands of research studies are conducted that do little more than raise even more questions about how things work and how they are made to work. In spite of the arguments of those who deny the existence of a Creator, the creation defies simple explanation. From massive cosmic forces to subatomic particles, the natural world is unrelenting in yielding up only more complexity and more evidence of purpose. George MacDonald used the purposefulness of the creation to touch the heart of the key character in his novel The Musician’s Quest. Agnostic Robert Falconer had gone to the wilderness for solitude and rest, but found himself pondering whether the natural world might have its source in a supernatural Creator.

Now working in Falconer’s mind was the dull and faint movement of the greatest need that the human heart possesses—the need of God. There must be a truth in the scent of that pinewood; someone must mean it. There must be a glory in those heavens that depends not upon our imagination; some power greater than they must dwell in them. Some spirit must move in that wind that haunts us with a kind of human sorrow; some soul must look up to us from the eye of that starry flower. Little did Robert think that such was his need—that his soul was searching after the One whose form was constantly presented to him, but as constantly obscured by words without knowledge spoken in the religious assemblies of the land. [And scientific assemblies as well –DO]

The truth of this was eloquently spoken by a child walking with his dad in the woods—the son of one of my friends: “It’s easy to believe in God when you’re outdoors, isn’t it, Dad?”

Abundant Joy. The French term is joie de vivre “the joy of life.” Few things in the outdoors fill me with delight like the joy of living often demonstrated by God’s creatures. Once while I was kayaking on a lake a sudden commotion in the water near the shore caught my eye. As I paddled closer I saw a lone female mallard splashing in the shallows, turning in mad circles and making the water fly. From that she went to preening and then to drinking—savoring whatever flavors and organisms the lake water yielded by holding her mouth wide open and then clacking her bill. Academics might propose that her activity was all mere utility, but I’m sure the duck was smiling! And what about cavorting calves and colts, squirrels playing tag, songbirds rejoicing at the dawn, otters gliding down muddy slides over and over again, and grizzly bears deliberately somersaulting on mountain slopes? You’ll not convince me that these creatures are not living with joy. Henry Van Dyke writer of the hymn “Joyful, Joyful, We Adore You” *(to the music of Beethoven’s 9th Symphony) must have felt the same:

All Thy works with joy surround Thee, earth and heaven reflect
Thy rays,
Stars and angels sing around Thee, center of unbroken praise.
Field and forest, vale and mountain, flowery meadow,
flashing sea,
Singing bird and flowing fountain call us to rejoice in Thee.

God made the wild creatures and the wilderness for them to live in. And the psalms tell us that God delights in the wilderness and its creatures. Hence, the more we delight in them, the more we share in God’s joy.

*“Joyful, Joyful, We Adore You” from “Sister Act 2″  (Warning: Jivvy version!)
*Andre Rieu Version