What is a tree for?
One of the college courses I used to teach was a “subcourse” within a semester-long course called “Introduction to the Arts,” in which I was to teach students everything they needed to know about music in seventeen class periods, no small task. This was a “Gen Ed” course, meaning that it was a requirement for everyone. So, while some students saw this as an opportunity to grow in their understanding of music – whatever kind of music they wanted to understand better, not everyone was all that enthusiastic. Some were downright skeptical.
I’d always begin the course with what probably seemed like an odd question: “What is a tree for?” The more pragmatic students would say that trees are for wood with which to build other things (they were probably Construction Management majors). Some would say they were for fruit (Agriculture majors?). Some (Phys Ed majors?) suggested they were for climbing, and others (Philosophy majors?) suggested that they were good for shade in which to sit. These are all fine answers. But then I’d read them a little bit out of Genesis that they probably had skimmed over countless times and never really considered: “The Lord God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food.” (Gen.2:9a, NIV) Sure, trees are good for food, we are told, but before even that God lets us know that they are “pleasing to the eye.” They are beautiful. And who thought that they were beautiful? God did. Apparently, beauty is important to God.
We often say that we are all made in the image of God, to point to the intrinsic value of every human being. But being made in God’s image also means that we share in God’s attributes, even if in a reduced and flawed human way. That means that every one of us shares in God’s aesthetic sensibility, the potential for an awareness of beauty in the world around us. Sometimes that beauty just jumps out at us: in majestic, snow-covered mountains or the amazing range of colors in autumn leaves. Sometimes, it’s something tiny that requires close inspection, like the intricacy of a snowflake. Sometimes, it’s the beauty of something “everyday” – a child’s laughter or flannel sheets on a cold winter’s night. We can certainly delight in things that others have made, as well – after all, another aspect of God (and the very first thing he reveals about himself) is that he is one who creates, and we humans share that part of his image, too. So, to enjoy a painting or a sculpture or a symphony is to share in God’s appreciation of beauty and to celebrate the creative image-bearing of others.
Now, if you were my students, I‘d give you an assignment, so here it is: at some point in your day, stop, sit back, and look or listen, seeking out some bit of beauty that’s around you – large or small, God-made or man-made (by the way, when was the last time you listened to a piece of music – really, actively listened to it – without doing something else at the same time?). Savor it, take delight in it, and let that delight remind you that you are sharing in something close to the heart of our Creator God. As the hymn reminds us, “This is my Father's world: He shines in all that's fair.”