The cathedral is observing the period of the year that has become known in the church as Creationtide in various ways this year. For example, we are hosting an exhibition that highlights the environmental work of many parishes across the Diocese of Leeds; this Sunday we are commissioning 13 Eco mission Enablers to serve the churches within the diocese in what is a first nationally, and we will celebrate harvest with the Yorkshire Agricultural Society again.

As we celebrate creation, we cannot help but recognise that the universe is vast and amazing, and also, creation is so extraordinary when we look at the tiny details. The amoeba wriggles under the microscope slide; the leaf cell reveals its own fascinating structures.

Human beings make up only one small part of the universe. The creation account in Genesis gives us just one day of God’s creating week. We human beings often forget how small a part we are in the history of the earth, and how much we owe to the world around us that supports and sustains us, and even more the universe that holds us.

Yet God saw that it was good before human beings arrived. Our creator loved the oceans and the trees and the gases and the stars long before loving us? Do the plants, animals, mountains and stars love and worship God in return – in ways that we cannot fathom?

The universe is vast. In the face of such a vastness it is easy to feel very small. In the great scheme of things, in the wonder of creation and in the history of salvation, my problems, my concerns are extremely insignificant.

Here is the great paradox. The whole earth, the whole universe, is loved by God and is vast beyond our comprehension – and yet that universe includes us. The God who loves the lilies and the birds finds us to be precious as well – each and every one of us as unique as a snowflake and uniquely loved.

This is the nature of God, says Jesus. God clothes the lilies more exquisitely than the richest ruler could dress himself; God feeds the birds. We, who are even more valuable to God than birds and plants because we are God’s children, are seen and understood. Our heavenly Father knows what we need. More than this, Jesus suggests that God is interested in more than just our spiritual lives. God is concerned for our physical welfare. Even the worries that, one day, we will realise are unimportant in the context of the kingdom, are known and appreciated by God.

So even though I may be humbled by the splendour of creation, or simply overwhelmed by the sheer size of it, and even though I am but the smallest speck in the midst of it all, yet God knows who I am and what I need. Most of all God loves me, and loves you, and every precious child.

What might we want to do with this wonderful paradox? Well, firstly we might want to worship, with every fibre of our being, to praise the one who creates and sustains it all. Beyond that, we might want to pay real attention to the world, its creatures – human and otherwise – its plants, seas, trees and clouds, if for no other reason than because God does.

Secondly, we might want to let that attention influence how we treat other people and our landscape. Does God weep at plastic bags in the sea? Does God weep for our ill treatment of animals? Does God weep at human hatred and violence? How might we, even in a small way, offer kindness, love and peace to all people and all things?

Thirdly, we might want to live humbly, mindful of our smallness in the amazing universe, but at the same time live joyfully, as those who are beloved children of God.

Finally, we might want to live generously. God has blessed us with so much – with far more than we want or need – in response, we can afford to be generous.

How might you respond to the love of God seen in creation this week?

With my best wishes

Canon Michael