by Reid Matthias

It’s when darkness sets in and the stars begin their nocturnal swim through the night sky thatI remember I am not living on the plains of the Midwestern United States.

When I look up, as if in a snowless snowglobe the sparkling balls of burning gas billions of kilometres distant remind me how tiny I am and how far away I live from the memories of my youth. The beauty of the southern constellations reminds us that the vastness of God’s creation is immeasurable. I feel small and incurably insignificant — not an uncommon event when looking at the stars — and I am reminded that everything in existence seeks to be big (or bigger).

Unfortunately, we’ve been duped into thinking bigger is better. I’ve been pondering the things that are getting bigger but not necessarily better. Take, for instance, fast food. In previous decades a hamburger, fries and softdrink would suffice for the average hungry consumer. Now, if I walk into a restaurant that welcomes me with golden arches, as if welcoming me through the doors of heaven, I can’t even get a normal size burger. The advertising for the ‘super-size’ — which, I believe, is larger than my stomach to start with — seems to tell the consumer, ‘You’ll be more satisfied with the ...

You can read the full story in the September 2011 edition, available from LCA Subscriptions. Full columns become available online three years after publication date.