The Book of Nature

Followers of the Abrahamic religions—Judaism, Christianity, and Islam—are sometimes called “people of the book,” because a written text is so central to all three religions: the Tanakh (Law, Prophets, and Writings) for Jews, the Old and New Testaments for Christians, and the Qur' an for Muslims. But from the beginning of Christianity up to the Enlightenment era in the west, Christians customarily referred to two books—not the two testaments of Scripture, but rather the Book of Nature and the Book of Scripture. In fact, the idea of a book of nature dates from before Christian times to the writers of the First Testament.

Psalm 19 begins by affirming the Book of Nature: “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament shows his handiwork. One day tells its tale to another, and one night imparts knowledge to another. Although they have no words or language, and their voices are not heard, their sound has gone out into all lands, and their message to the ends of the world” (vv. 1–4). The psalm goes on to extol the goodness of the Book of Scripture: “The Torah of the Lord is perfect and revives the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure and gives wisdom to the innocent. The statutes of the Lord are just and rejoice the heart; the commandment of the Lord is clear and gives light to the eyes. . . . More to be desired are they than gold, more than much fine gold, sweeter far than honey . . . . By them also is your servant enlightened” (vv. 7–8, 10a, 11).

“By them also.” Psalm 19 begins by commending the Book of Nature. This “also” indicates that the Book of Scripture, too, is worthy of our attention. The primacy of the Book of Nature is striking here, since we tend to identify “revelation” so exclusively with the written word. But the psalmist could not be clearer: God is known in creation. The very forms and processes of nature reveal something about their Creator. The words written by human hands in the Book of Scripture—though admittedly inspired by God and highly revered in Jewish and Christian traditions—are nonetheless mentioned second in this psalm.

What are we supposed to make of the grandeur and beauty of nature or “nature’s God” (as Thomas Jefferson wrote in the American Declaration of Independence)? The psalms themselves give one answer. Often, an honest human response to creation is pure awe: “O Lord, our Governor, how exalted is your Name in all the world! . . . When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars you have set in their courses, what is man that you should be mindful of him?” (Psalm 8:1, 4–5)

Gazing at “the vast expanse of interstellar space, galaxies, suns, the planets in their courses, and this fragile earth, our island home,” one common human response is sheer amazement at the immensity and beauty of it all—and a stark realization of the humble place of humankind, particularly one human being, in it all.

Christian writers interpreted this transition from amazement to humility as a salutary and necessary step in the spiritual life. When “the heavens are telling the glory of God,” they are at the same time telling us that “man” is not “the measure of all things.” There is something greater and far better than ourselves—or rather Someone, who is the source of all the goodness and beauty in which we are blessed to partake. This Someone, moreover, does not wish to remain anonymous—that is why his signature is all over the visible world.

According to John Calvin, God “daily discloses himself in the whole workmanship of the universe.” Although God is invisible (apart from the Incarnation), “upon his individual works he has engraved unmistakable marks of his glory. . . . This skillful ordering of the universe is for us a sort of mirror in which we can contemplate God, who is otherwise invisible.” (Institutes 1.5.1). “We are called to a knowledge of God . . . that will be sound and fruitful if we duly perceive it, and if it takes root in the heart” (1.5.9).

The universe, then, is a kind of love-letter from God. It is designed to reveal God in such a way that we fall in love, wanting to know him better—to spend time with him day in and day out. It aims at arousing delight in our hearts and an ardent desire for more. This is not a place we need to worry about concupiscence. There is no limit to the desire God seeks to instill in our hearts for his goodness, beauty, and truth. Here is where turning to the Book of Scripture (and the Christian community that is its custodian) can help. Though it is compelling and delightful, the knowledge we gain of God in nature is limited: It tells of his greatness, ingenuity, goodness, and so on. But it cannot tell of the history of salvation that God has initiated with his human creatures. For that, we need the Book of Scripture.

For Calvin, in fact, we cannot read the Book of Nature properly without the aid of the “spectacles” provided by the Book of Scripture: “Just as old or bleary-eyed men and those with weak vision, if you thrust before them a most beautiful volume, even if they recognize it to be some sort of writing, yet can scarcely construe two words, but with the aid of spectacles will begin to read distinctly; so Scripture, gathering up the otherwise confused knowledge of God in our minds, having dispersed our dullness, clearly shows us the true God” (1.6.1).

God woos us every day in the beauty and mystery of nature, and every human being is naturally capable of responding to this loveliness. But an intuitive response of joy at the magnificence of God is not the whole of the good things God desires for us. God seeks a response that goes beyond delight at nature’s beauty to something deeper: Unwavering loyalty to and trust in the Author of nature’s beauty himself—and, with this faith, a lifelong journey toward holiness of life and love for all of creation, including our neighbors. As Calvin says, the “spectacles” of the Book of Scripture allow us “to recognize God not only as Creator” as we learn from the Book of Nature, “but also as Redeemer.”

Although I have drawn on Calvin today, many Christian writers—from St Paul through Jonathan Edwards and beyond—have expressed similar thoughts about the Book of Nature and the Book of Scripture. Perhaps we shall explore some of this rich tradition in coming weeks. Meanwhile, as you take in the beauty of your world, remember to give thanks to the God who is always wooing us with such delights, always seeking our “yes” to his love.