The natural order existed for the magnification, pleasure, and use of the one who created it.

The great American pastor-theologian Jonathan Edwards was not like most of us. We, after all, have the modern tendency to compartmentalize our lives and segment parts of it off from our relationship with God. We’ve been indoctrinated to believe that there are certain areas of our lives where God has sway and then other areas where faith must sit at the feet of reason, quiet as a church mouse. Christianity is great for your prayer closet, but is supposed to be tucked into your lunch-bag during your work hours.

In the eighteenth century, Edwards would not confine his understanding of God’s work to a Sunday service. When he ventured outside, when he walked in nature, when he witnessed a propulsive storm, Edwards believed he was witnessing something of the revelation of God. Edwards’s view of God was large and encompassed every aspect of creation.  In His great design, God had given “natural things” as types of “spiritual things.” “Everything,” said Edwards, “seems to aim that way.”

One need not agree with every nuance of his typology to learn an important lesson from Edwards, namely, that the human-centered view of the universe so common in our day prevents us from a richer, fuller vision of the world and natural order.  Psalm 19:1 rings in our ears on this point: “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.”  Edwards applied this verse by finding types of spiritual truths in creation.  His notebook entries display a never-resting mind, and what one could call profound “theological imagination.” In a day when the world has gone materialist gray, we need to ponder Edwards’s creative ideas, sifting them for wisdom.

Of roses, Edwards said this:

Roses grow upon briers, which is to signify that all temporal sweets are mixed with bitter. But what seems more especially to be meant by it, is that true happiness, the crown of glory, is to be come at in no other way than by bearing Christ’s cross by a life of mortification, self-denial and labor, and bearing all things for Christ. The rose, the chief of all flowers, is the last thing that comes out. The briery prickly bush grows before, but the end and crown of all is the beautiful and fragrant rose.  (Works 11, 52)

In the sea, Edwards discovered the wrath of God:

The waves and billows of the sea in a storm and the dire cataracts there are of rivers have a representation of the terrible wrath of God, and amazing misery of [them] that endure it. Misery is often compared to waters in the Scripture— a being overwhelmed in waters. God’s wrath is compared to waves and billows (Psalms 88:7, Psalms 42:7). Job 27:20, “Terrors take hold as waters.” Hosea 5:10, “I will pour out my wrath upon them like water.” In Psalms 42:7, God’s wrath is expressly compared to cataracts of water: “Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy waterspouts.” And the same is represented in hail and stormy winds, black clouds and thunder, etc.  (Works 11, 58)

In the silkworm, Edwards saw Christ:

The silkworm is a remarkable type of Christ, which, when it dies, yields us that of which we make such glorious clothing. Christ became a worm for our sakes, and by his death finished that righteousness with which believers are clothed, and thereby procured that we should be clothed with robes of glory. See 2 Samuel 5:23–24 and Psalms 84:6; the valley of mulberry trees.  (Works 11, 59)

In the serpent’s cunning, Edwards glimpsed Satan’s schemes:

In the manner in which birds and squirrels that are charmed by serpents go into their mouths and are destroyed by them, is a lively representation of the manner in which sinners under the gospel are very often charmed and destroyed by the devil. The animal that is charmed by the serpent seems to be in great exercise and fear, screams and makes ado, but yet don’t flee away. It comes nearer to the serpent, and then seems to have its distress increased and goes a little back again, but then comes still nearer than ever, and then appears as if greatly affrighted and runs or flies back again a little way, but yet don’t flee quite away, and soon comes a little nearer and a little nearer with seeming fear and distress that drives ’em a little back between whiles, until at length they come so [near] that the serpent can lay hold of them: and so they become their prey.  (Works 11, 71)

These lively explorations of the created order show how Edwards worked out his understanding of nature as a display of God’s glory and wisdom.  In Edwards’s worldview, the Creator planted these figments of Himself and His truth in creation to stimulate the faith of mankind.  Wherever one looked—roses, the sea, silkworms, or serpents—one found the hand and mind of God.

Edwards’s God was simultaneously a designer, aesthete, and instructor.  The natural order existed for the magnification, pleasure, and use of the one who created it.  Even with the effects of the fall corrupting God’s handiwork, the world still brimmed with beauty.  Wherever one discovered intelligence, loveliness, or depictions of spiritual realities, one found prime evidence of God’s design.  Beauty was not a concept one could abstract from God, but was the very essence of God.  Thus the realm God created displayed His beauty.  Creation derived not from pragmatics, from a mere desire by the Creator to create.  Creation existed because God desired to put His glory, His beauty, before a celestial audience.

In the pastor’s eyes, creation sung the praises of God and exhibited the wisdom of God.  One did not have to squint to see this truth; one had only to open one’s eyes.  If one stopped to look at the flight of spiders or the soft light of a rainbow, one saw a reflection of a figure still more beautiful than these; if one only stopped to listen, one could hear, however faintly, a distant song calling a fallen world to discover the beauty of the Lord. So we will hear today—if we only look, listen, and above all, worship.

This material is adapted from Jonathan Edwards on Beauty, a part of The Essential Edwards Collection, written by Dr. Strachan and Douglas Sweeney, and is used with permission of Moody Publishers.