The answer to my question is found in a willingness to set “sense” aside, and become a child, who with a trusting heart is enabled to enter the theological playground where this question was formed. The reason this is so is that the answer to this question in not something that is derived through the sophisticated disposition common to adulthood, a disposition that seeks to get below the appearance of things. Such an approach causes us to miss both the question and its answer. Instead, the meaning of color is discovered in that disposition of heart and mind that allows humans to experience the sublime. Though I risk being criticized as anthropomorphic, I assert that it is within our very subjective response to the glory of color, particularly as it is found in nature, that we find its meaning. It may be true that we as individuals have a variety of responses, but generally we have all had moments of awe and wonder. For me, it often happens during summer when the late afternoon Sun illumines the leaves of all plants and trees on the valley floor, and after that when during sunset the sky is ablaze with intense hues of red, pink, yellow, purple, and orange. It also happens when I look at the deep dark blue of the midnight sky punctured and punctuated by white shining stars. I could easily go on to name numerous other instances, but the point is that such instances exist in the first place. In these moments, when we are arrested by the glory of color, we are enabled to perceive what creation is always declaring, that God is good, and this is the meaning of color.

So, the next time you find yourself in such a moment, don’t dismiss it as the freak response of human consciousness; rather embrace such a response as that which mostly deeply connects you to who God is and his heart toward you. After all, a child would easily accept this as true.

As I sat next to my daughter trying to figure out how to respond to her anguish I found myself at a loss for words. It’s not that the words weren’t forthcoming, as many possible responses came to mind, but as I processed them I quickly began to doubt whether they were appropriate for my six year old daughter. The responses were the result of my theological studies, responses that were sound with regards to orthodoxy yet steeped in theological language. As a consequence these responses were too sophisticated for my young daughter; moreover, I had doubts as to whether they were the kind of responses that could touch and minister to the human heart, regardless of age.

Fortunately, as I continued to sit with my daughter it came to me that I should read her a story, particularly John’s story of how Jesus raised Lazurus from the dead. As a preface to reading the story, I told Elena that John was a friend and follower of Jesus, and that he felt compelled to tell the world about Jesus because of what he had seen. As I read the story Elena listened intently and by the end she appeared visibly relieved. As a concluding reflection, I told Elena that one day Jesus would also call each of us by name, just like he did for Lazurus. In the end we sat on the couch and together we imagined Jesus one day saying, “Elena, Come forth!” “Anthony, Come forth!” “Paula, Come forth!”