With so many issues to discuss, Christians can easily get the feeling that science is always attacking the faith. It is essential to balance such conversations with positive responses to God’s creation. After all, the primary response to the natural world in the Bible is to praise the God who made it.

God shows himself not just in the orderliness of nature, but powerfully, joyously and always surprisingly in its beautiful "non-order" as well.

We tend to think of creativity in terms of flashes of insight and brilliance, of novelty, and especially of unexpected things bursting upon the scene. But creativity is no less creative and no less remarkable when it proceeds step by step, according to discipline, according to rule.

The song is built around the image of a river flowing through a canyon it has sculpted—an image that can easily be played out as a picture of the way that the Lord has been at work preparing a path for us in the material world, complete with signposts to his former and present activity.

It doesn't take a scientist to appreciate the beauty with which God has arrayed his creation. But scientists do have the opportunity (and training) to appreciate different kinds of beauty than do most non-scientists, whether they are ordinarily "hidden" in the extremes of scale, the elegant processes of an experiment, or in the abstraction of mathematics. Indeed the appreciation of various kinds of beauty has always played a critical role in motivating scientists to investigate the world, and in helping them decipher its workings. In the three-part essay, Ruth Bancewicz explores some of the ways beauty, science and theology intertwine.

The universe that inspired the psalmist three thousand years ago grows grander as each new generation of astronomers adds yet another layer of understanding.

As we remember the narrative that takes us from Good Friday through Easter morning, the image of a buried grain of wheat invites us into the story rather than just describing what happens in it.

Predictably, "Jesus Wept" did not make into the Jefferson Bible. John 11 was cut out entirely, falling onto the floor of his Monticello home and discarded, along with Martha's confession.

In this brief series (taken from a 2009 paper), Jennifer Wiseman uses an excerpt from the famous hymn “How Great Thou Art,” to explain why the study of God’s creation can lead Christ’s followers into meaningful worship and overcome the obstacles which impede true praise. Creation as encountered through our senses is pondered by our minds, which flows into wonder-filled songs from the soul. She further explains how knowledge of creation will help Christians to address the moral dilemmas of science, and she encourages all to see the process of scientific inquiry as a means to discover God’s truth.

The Psalmist affirms that the created world speaks of its creator, and that everywhere we look or listen there are words, speech pouring forth in abundance. But are we prepared to hear that speech?

In 1967, biologists Roger Payne and Scott McVay discovered that humpback whales “sing” and published recordings of the whales’ complex vocalizations, after which “whale song” quickly entered the popular consciousness and helped propel the “save the whales” environmental movement forward.

This week’s artistic treatment of the great whales takes as its subject a more-storied and decidedly less-gentle member of the family, but returns to our fascination with and desire to know about whatever is dramatically not us.

Of all the earth’s creatures, few deserve the description of “awesome” as do whales. Counting among their kin the largest creatures that have ever lived, whales exist in a world that remains mysterious and remote.

Dr. Heather Whitney’s double major in physics and performing and visual arts suggests that she lives—as well as understands—the connections between subjective and objective ways of engaging the creation. She is committed to communicating that experience with her students, too.

Of all the blessings to be thankful for on Thanksgiving Day, none of them surpasses the riches of the eternal blessings which the Lord has bestowed on his sons and daughters in Christ Jesus.

Clearly, the orb weaver is a powerful symbol of both spiritual and creative truth for Suzanne Rhodes—something wonderful and beautiful. But my own experience with orb weavers was somewhat less poetic...

That something nourishing resides hidden away in the most unexpected and unglamorous of places speaks to the paradoxical hiddenness of God.

While in common parlance we tend to think of something being “co-opted” as a bad thing and a violation of original principles or intentions, the word itself does not imply a “hijacking” so much as a divergence with connection: co-operation between one use and another.

We should not be ashamed of the fact that our faith integrates spirit and body; our faith calls us to regard the stuff of creation in all of its materiality as good, and thus offers the best starting point for the practice and pleasure of art.

The Psalmists observed that both the starry heavens above and also “everything that hath breath” praises the Lord; but is this more than a flowery anthropomorphism, a poetic but ultimately meaningless trope?