Poetry and music speak to the heart in ways that mere facts and figures cannot. This was recently demonstrated for me (again!) through Andrew Peterson’s music. The lyrics below are from the selection “Nothing to Say” on his album “Carried Along.” They put into words my emotions as I drove through the desolate beauty of Arizona and Utah.
Hey, Jamie, would you mind
Driving down this road a while
Arizona’s waiting on these eyes
Rich is on the radio
And I think we ought to take it slow
Arizona’s caught me by surprise
Andrew Peterson is an artist who paints with words; he is a story teller through music. Jamie (referenced above) is Peterson’s wife, Rich Mullins is a Christian musician who had a profound impact on Peterson’s development and music.
Hey, Jamie, have you heard
“A picture paints a thousand words”
But the photographs don’t tell it all
I see the eagle swim the canyon sea
Creation yawns in front of me
Oh Lord, I never felt so small
No indeed, the photographs don’t tell it all. They cannot. Driving across the desert southwest, especially in the canyon lands, reveals awe-inspiring vistas with every mile. The land is riven by deep canyons comprised of rock layers and sands colored by the Maker’s full paint palette. Erosion of the soft sands beneath cap rock produces stunning topography and deep shadows that change constantly with the sun’s angle. The effect is nothing short of ethereal.
The experience of seeing miles upon miles of deep canyons, steep buttes, eerie rock formations, twisted ancient trees bent and gnarled by the aeolian forces of the desert produces in me a spirit of wonder and worship for the Creator, our great God.
The apostle Paul declares in Romans 1:20 that the mere fact of Creation is adequate to remove all doubt as to God’s existence: “For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse.”
This theme appears repeatedly in the Old Testament, particularly in the Psalms. David declares in Psalm 8:1, “O Lord, our Lord, How majestic is Your name in all the earth, Who have displayed Your splendor above the heavens!” and again in Psalm 19:1, “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.”
Peterson’s word picture captures the canyon land scenes perfectly: Creation yawns in front of me. The impact of these vast expansive vistas can have but one effect: Oh Lord, I never felt so small.
And I don’t believe that I believed in You as deeply as today
I reckon what I’m saying is there’s nothing more
Nothing more to say
The testimony of Creation points those having eyes to see and hearts to understand back to God Himself. God is the great Creator, the original Artist from whom all human art ultimately flows. As humans, our ‘creations’ are but mimicry of the great Creator, as we think God’s thoughts after Him. This does not render human art inconsequential. It does quite the opposite, in fact. Mimicry of the Creator’s art imputes to our human art, our sciences, our ‘creations’ great value, somewhat like the worth a numbered painting retains because of the value of the original.
In the great tragedies that afflicted him, Job wrestled with what seemed to be divine malpractice. He could not understand the point of his suffering. But when God revealed His sovereign majesty to the suffering man in Job chapters 38-41, Job was satisfied—not with answers, but with a fresh apprehension of God’s greatness. The revelation of God’s omniscience and omnipotence shut Job’s mouth.
“Then Job answered the Lord and said, “I know that You can do all things, And that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted. ‘Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?’ “Therefore I have declared that which I did not understand, Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.” ‘Hear, now, and I will speak; I will ask You, and You instruct me.’ “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; But now my eye sees You; Therefore I retract, And I repent in dust and ashes.”” (Job 42:1–6, NASB95)
Peterson captures the idea that man stands speechless before God’s mighty power, but in a different way. The revelation of God’s great power and consummate artistry in the beauty of the American southwest shuts Peterson’s mouth. There’s simply nothing more to say.
And the mountains sing Your glory, hallelujah
The canyons echo sweet amazing grace
My spirit sails
The mighty gales are bellowing Your name
And I’ve got nothing to say
No, I’ve got nothing to say
Do you have eyes to see? Do you have ears to hear? Have you experienced the profound joy of simply standing speechless in the presence of God? The testimony of nature cannot establish your relationship with God, but it does constitute an invitation to seek Him.
True fellowship with the great Creator God comes only through knowing His Son, Jesus Christ (John 14:6). The gospel condensed is simply this: you and I are sinners (Romans 3:23), and the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23). But Jesus Christ, though He had no sin, took upon Himself our sins and experienced the judgment of death in our place, paying the penalty we could not pay (2 Corinthians 5:21). He was raised from the dead, demonstrating that He was truly God’s Son (Romans 1:4). You can only establish a relationship with God the Father through Jesus Christ (John 17:1-3) by confessing your sinfulness to God and repenting and placing your trust in the death, burial, and the real resurrection of Christ for your sins. If you confess Jesus as your Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him form the dead, you will be saved (Romans 10:9-13).
The mute testimony of the created world to the glory of the Creator was impressed on me during our driving trip across the broad expanse of America’s southwest. Why did we make that long trip? Well, that’s a story for another time. Maybe someday I’ll tell you about it.
Hey, Jamie, would you mind
Driving down this road a while
Arizona’s caught me by surprise.
Andrew Peterson’s beautiful song, Nothing to say, can be found on Youtube.
