In an 1889 essay entitled The Decay of Lying, Oscar Wilde asserted that, “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life.” Pardon me sir, and I mean no disrespect, but I must disagree. Just look at these cherries—a perfect gift bestowed by our richly warm and flavorful season. Pantone 13-1848 has nothing on the complexity and lavishness of nature’s color coding system.
When I hear people either exclude or include themselves in the “creative” category, I’m brought back to this scene. We all live in this elegant world—a place that begs us to see its glory through our daily grind. Some spend daytime hours combining parts and pieces, yielding complex car engines that propel moving vehicles. Others start with raw ingredients, chopping, heating, and piecing together distinct flavors. Still others make laws, craft speeches, organize data. In one way or the other, we all work to bring order from chaos, luring harmony out of the void. It’s how we’re wired. We were made—bearing the image of God himself—and thus we are makers.
This whole world cries out for a return to its opening scene. Light breezes blowing through tall grass, fruit trees teeming with sweet produce, an expertly planned Garden—planted and tended by God’s loving hands. We’ve strayed pretty far from this place, but our memories and our hope still whisper a belief that we can go back there. We glimpse glory in various ways. Art takes its cue from that reality. And by joining in on the reorganization of small messes, we participate in redemption.