Dead Moths: Dark Deeds of Design? Reflection I

                                                

 

 

 

Design

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth --
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth --
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small. 

                                                             ~Robert Frost

Dead Moths: Dark Deeds of Design? 

    Does nature have any business being so beautiful and alluring when its characters are full of the propensity for ruin and destruction, “death & blight”?  Entering our fair early morning forest we find a dimpled, white spider and a delicate moth; white tells of innocence, but the tale becomes unexpectedly devilish, for we immediately discover a grim sight not of fluttering wings, but a “rigid satin cloth,” a dead moth carried like a “paper kite.” Frost sees Eden, but with a blemish. 
   Frost is spinning his own thread of paradox, but we, too, often have much cause for questions, confusion, and a desire for some sort of reconciliation. How in the reality of our relationships gone awry, natural disaster, or suffering and innocence lost, are we to accept that there is benevolence in the design of all things? What wisdom should we seek amidst the beauty and the tragedy that Frost artfully spits and spins with both venom and spider silk from the same sonnet? Frost tells us that our questions are worth asking, our moth worth contemplating. 
   We are presented in our encounter of the good and the evil several ideas about God, all of which have direct effect on how we will live our lives. Does God exist at all, or is He rather distant and detached from our lives? Perhaps "god" is simply a part of everything, not a distinct being or Person? Thus, "god" would be known more through one's own self discovery. Yet, perhaps God is a distinct Being who desires to reveal His nature-even as we desire our own selves to be revealed in relation to others-to those whom He has created in His image. How could we know if He, a personal God, was intimately involved in His design and actively revealing Himself throughout history and in the present moment to us humankind, drawing humans to Himself? By bringing us up close to a dead moth, Frost uses careful design to reveal the skeptic's question. Does skepticism have the final word in this sonnet? What can we do with the problem of the good and of the evil? Does the spider art poison the argument for the personhood of God like the kited moth? Or can the "moth" and our faith be wriggled from the silken web?

Frost & the Psalmist    

Frost's skepticism about the existence of design does not appear uncontested. He is aware of its self-refuting nature, for he knows how scrupulously he chose every word and syllable for his poem.  In fact, one poet analyst (Academic) says, “Few poems by Frost are more perfectly and surely composed, few where the figure in the mind and in the ear are better matched.” If one can believe it, he calls Design Frost’s greatest poem! He argues that Design could be the best sonnet ever written by an American poet. Frost knows that he cannot put a bunch of words in a hat, shake them up, throw them into the air and expect them to fall into the form of an earth-shaking sonnet. 
   If we were to describe the smallest aspects of nature, like a spider and a moth, we’d be foolish not to conclude that creatures were  “perfectly and surely composed” and well-matched to their environments! If one can gush about a 13 line poem and speak of its greatness and praise its creator, one might understand a little better how the Psalmist could go on and on about the majesty of creation and praise its Maker.  The heavens aren't just there, they tell forth the majesty of their Creator by way of secrecy, they don't proclaim in words, they proclaim by their existence and by their excellent and praiseworthy design:  "One day tells a story to the next day, one night tells its secret to the next night, without words, without their voices being heard: The heavens declare the glory of God and the skies proclaim what His hands have made/Their sounds going out to the entire earth, and their message is heard to the ends of the earth,"(Psalm 19). If the Psalmists are true in their proclamation that the natural world reflects the character of God as a great designer, perhaps they are also true in their revelation of other spiritual realities of the human heart in relationship to his or her God. 
   The Psalmist addresses God as Creator, Sustainer, Judge and Redeemer, bringing to God every concern, observation of evil, personal sin, feelings of abandonment, and every praise for blessing and what is good in life.  The Psalmists tell the story that God is in relationship to those who call on His name. But perhaps we are not familiar with the God of the Psalmists. If not, Frost's reflections ask us all a very important question of what we believe. Is it worth exploring with as great an attention to detail as Frost the smallest aspects of nature from which arise the biggest questions of life? What secret does death and evil hold in our fair world? And which views of God do we wrestle with and how do they determine our response or lack thereof, to Him?