The other day Scott and I were talking about beauty as a proof of God. We both felt that there had to be a proof in there somewhere, but neither of us was quite sure where.
This morning I was walking to Mass and fretting about finals when I looked up and realized that it was snowing.
Have you, dear readers, ever stood on a sidewalk in the dark of a winter morning and watched snowflakes fall by the light of the street lamps? It's beautiful, isn't it?
To me, it felt like God reached down and touched me and said Be still.
Why should snow be beautiful? It's cold and wet and makes walking a challenge. There is, as far as I can tell, absolutely no evolutionary advantage to snow. Yet I think it's beautiful.
Perhaps that's a proof of God. If it isn't, I ask you--how could gratuitous beauty arise from random chance?