Making the Invisible God Visible

The invisible God’s presence and beauty are more than visible—they are glaring and inescapable.

How do any of us glorify God with our work if it’s not overtly Christian?  

Well, here’s my take: We’re the image of God. Our job is to make the invisible God visible—to mirror and mimic what He is like to the world. We can glorify God by doing our work in such a way that we make the invisible God visible by what we do and how we do it.  

The Anglican writer John Stott said the kind of work we’re called to is this:  

The expenditure of energy (manual or mental or both) in the service of others, which brings fulfillment to the worker, benefit to the community, and glory to God.  

Most of us get the first part of that definition: “Fulfillment to the worker.” Ideally, your work should be a vocation, a calling, work that you feel God made you to do and that you love. And a lot of us get the second part: “Benefit to the community.” It should make the world into a more garden-like place. But what about “glory to God”? How do we do that?  

Well, if God’s glory is His presence and beauty, then, as I see it, we glorify God by reshaping the raw materials of the world in such a way that, for those with eyes to see, God’s presence and beauty are made visible.  

When we see a piece of art, we see behind the art and get a glimpse of what the artist is like.  

When we hear a piece of music, we hear behind the music and get a faint idea of what the composer is like.

In the same way, when we see creation, we see behind the creation and get a picture of what the Creator is like.  

In Romans we read, “Since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse” (1:20 NIV).  

Theologians call this general revelation. It’s the idea that everybody everywhere has at least some revelation of who God is and what He’s like just by living in His world. Romans is just picking up on the Hebrew poetry … “The heavens declare the glory of God” (Psalm 19:1).  

How does a star speak of the glory of God? It’s an inanimate object. It makes no sound, much less language—how does it speak?  

By being a star.  

How does a tree speak of the glory of God?  

By being a tree.

How does a lion speak?

By roaring loud.

How does a flower speak?

By unfolding its color every spring.

When we see the world in the shape that God intended, the way it’s supposed to be, God gets glory without a word.

Think of a breathtaking sunrise. Some people look at a sunrise, and, sadly, all they see is beauty. No God, no wonder, no mystery, no hunger or thirst deep inside.

Other people look at a sunrise, and even if they have never heard the name Jesus, they see past the orange and yellow lasers in the sky to the beauty behind the beauty—and they awaken worship just by getting out of bed and looking out the window.

This is God’s genius—the way He made the world.

As people made in God’s image, we can join Him in this ongoing creative work. As His partners, we can reshape the raw materials of His world in such a way that people see the beauty behind the beauty.

We can’t make a sunrise—but we can make a painting or take a photograph.

We can’t make a tree—but we can make a credenza.

We can’t make the world—but we can remake it into a macchiato, a building, an app, a dress, a book, a meal, a school, a cure, a song, a business, or ten thousand other things in such a way that for those with eyes to see—the invisible God’s presence and beauty are more than visible—they are glaring and inescapable.

This means we need to learn how to value beauty for beauty’s sake. Maybe even for God’s sake.

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Adapted from Garden City by John Mark Comer. Copyright © 2025 by John Mark Comer. Used by permission from Thomas Nelson. Available wherever books are sold. HarperCollinsChristian.com https://www.thomasnelson.com