“I do not think there is anyone who takes quite such a fierce pleasure in things being themselves as I do,” G.K. Chesterton wrote. “The startling wetness of water excites and intoxicates me: the fieriness of fire, the steeliness of steel, the unutterable muddiness of mud.”
This is no mere materialism or naturalism. Ian Boyd has written that “the material world has a sacramental character for Chesterton: the whole of creation is a divine theophany.” For people who share this sacramental view, the world around us simultaneously points to and participates in the goodness of God.
The muddiness of mud testifies to the God who would make it so unutterably muddy; and in its muddiness, mud brings glory to God. Honest food and fine ale are good because they are food and fine ale — and because in being food and fine ale they tells us of God’s grace.
There is a goodness and a glory in things being themselves.
A memory: When he was 4 years old, my son asked me if animals have hearts. I told him yes, all animals have hearts, because, as everyone knows, they do; and he responded: “Then do they love God?”
O, my son! Only a child can rightly see that our hearts are organs not primarily for pumping blood, but primarily for loving God — and only incidentally, and to that end, for beating.
So I told Jack, “Yes, all animals love God, but it looks different than how you and I love God,” and that animals love God by doing what he made them to do. A kitten loves God by purring and washing its paws, and a bear loves God by catching fish and hibernating in the winter. A dog loves God by licking the face of his boy, or by rolling on her back to suckle her newborn pups.
Sometimes I think of Christ’s rocks and trees, and I wonder whether they would cry out to fill our silence, or whether it is only in our silence that we would notice they are crying out every day, through their very rock-ness and tree-ness: “Glory to God! Praise him for this, his majesty made plain! Praise him in the highest, and delight!”
Returning to the Cyclostyle ink: “It is just the same with people,” Chesterton wrote. “When we call a man ‘manly’ or a woman ‘womanly,’ we touch the deepest philosophy.” In truth, you and I bring glory to God by simply being faithful to who he created us to be.
How do I bring glory to God as a father? Only this: By being a good father. That is enough.
Are you a mother? Then love and care for your children, as every good mother does, confident that in your mothering you bring glory to God — and that you tell the watching world something of a God who would make mothers so unutterably motherly.
Children: Play and grow and dream. That is enough.
Husbands: husband. Wives: wife. Teachers: teach. It is enough.
There is a goodness and a glory in things being themselves.
- On the Goodness and Glory of Things - May 17, 2021
- The Holy Longing of Happily Ever After - October 28, 2019
- Jack the Giant-Hugger - March 25, 2019
Your writing is so write-ness and brings glory to God. Good read.
I’m going to remind myself of this today–I need to remind myself of this.
Hearts are not just for pumping blood. “And a little child shall lead them…”
Thanks for sharing this, Josh.
O brother this is good.
“The most extraordinary thing in the world is an ordinary man and an ordinary woman and their ordinary children.”
GKC
as a mother and wife who works more-than-full time outside of the home, what i find difficult about this call to “mother” is that what it means to “mother” is not as straightforward as what it means for a bear to be a bear. it is very much a social construct. there is a constant tension between being more present at home versus being more present at work. as a doctor in residency training, i have no control over my hours currently, but i plan to work part time after i finish. with the gifts God has given me, i would go bonkers staying at home with my kids, but i also feel like a less-than-full mother by delegating much of their care to others.
all that to say, i feel very blessed to get to do two things that i love (be a doctor and be a mother – i wouldn’t have it any other way), but i also am not doing my best at either one. perhaps traditional Christians would see that as a failing of mothering, but our world is a lot more complicated than it used to be.
(getting back to the point about motherhood and wifehood and being “womanly” as societal constructs: if you had written this piece 100 years ago, all of those terms would have meant very different things – so i just think it’s unclear what it means when you say being “womanly” brings glory to God).
Oh, my word. “Sometimes I think of Christ’s rocks and trees, and I wonder whether they
would cry out to fill our silence, or whether it is only in our silence
that we would notice they are crying out every day…” How wonderful!