Skip to content

Is Beauty Needed?

February 8, 2010

Te

.

One morning, God, having just created the world, was walking with man in the garden.  As they walked, they came to an overlook.  There they stopped.  They stood in silence.  It was a glorious view.

After a time, man, interrupting the silence, asked the question that sends a chill up every creator’s spine, “Is this all really needed, or is it just aesthetics?”

God was silent.  He could not even look at man.  He just kept looking out across his creation.  Then he asked, “Is beauty needed?”

Not waiting for an answer, God continued, “Are mountain peaks needed?  Are lakes needed?  Is it necessary that a lake reflect the sky?  Is it needed that skies be blue?  Is it needed that as the sun sets the sky turns multicolor?  Are sandy seashores needed? Are seahorses needed? Are the stripes on the zebra needed? Are flowers needed? I could have plants reproduce without the beauty of a flower if you deem it ‘just aesthetics’. Are the northern lights needed? Are stars needed? Is it really necessary that leaves turn bright yellow, orange, or red, before they fall from the trees? I could have them simply fall without the ‘unneeded’ blaze of glory. Are colors needed? How about a cat’s whiskers? Is it for a need that I create the myriad of forms of snowflakes, a gazillion gazillion each day, most never seen by a single human? Does the elephant need its trunk or the squirrel its tail? Does man need to have eyes of different colors, or hair of different textures, or skins of different shades?”

“Yes, there is much I have created that is unneeded. In fact, it is all unneeded …even you …for I am God. I have created nothing that is needed …as there is nothing I need. In this sense all of creation is, as you might say, ‘just aesthetics’. I would call it beauty. It is what a holy and wise and loving and creative and beautiful and unneeding God creates when He chooses to create.”

Now man was silent.  He was feeling a lot less important   …yet worth so much more.

It was good.

.

.

.