Partners in Creation’s Chorus

Fifth Sunday of Easter

Acts 11:1-18
Psalm 148
Revelation 21:1-6
John 13:31-35

The lectionary passages this week are filled with creation and glorification. In the reading from Acts we are reminded that God has made all the creatures of the earth and in Revelation we hear the promise that God will not abandon the earth but will make it new. John’s gospel tells us of the moment when Jesus is glorified (though in a way that was unexpected). Creation and glorification may seem to us to be an unusual pair, but Psalm 148 brings them together into a cosmic song of praise.

With the climate crisis as part of the news cycle these days, more attention is being paid to the world around us. “The weather sure has been out of sorts this year.” “Did you hear about the latest news about the sea levels?” “I wonder if the fires on the West Coast will be worse than last year.”

Worry overtakes our conversations. Our imaginations are dominated by what we stand to lose. We either become lost in fear of what we might lose or set our faces hard against the ones we blame for exploiting the created world. We turn to the Scriptures to read what is said about caring for the earth. We think often on Romans 8:22 and listen to the groaning of creation. If we keep listening, can we hear anything more?

Psalm 148 brings us humans into the cosmic chorus of glorification. It is the fifth Sunday after Easter—we ought to expect nothing less. The psalm begins in the heavenly realm. Angels are praising the Lord and no one is surprised. That is what angels do. But next we hear:

“Praise him, sun and moon;
   praise him, all you shining stars!”

How do they offer praise? Is this some literary anthropomorphism ready for us to explain away? Or do these heavenly bodies, with their simple names and steady presence, have something to say? Could we consider their faithful lights and reflections to be their testimony of praise?

“Mountains and all hills,
   fruit trees and all cedars!
Wild animals and all cattle,
   creeping things and flying birds!”

The rolling Southern Appalachian Highlands where I live offer easy testimony to the beauty of the created world. Even on a cloudy, stormy, or hazy day these ancient mountains remain steady and offer a consistent testimony to a creative God. Blooming rhododendrons, peaks outlined in blue haze, vibrant tulip poplars are easy teachers. Cardinals, towhees, and chickadees are easy partners in creation’s chorus. But the wild animals? The creeping things? Snakes, spiders, salamanders, a multitude of insects—the list of creeping things goes on. They offer praise too? Of course. They might even have something to teach us about praising God if we take a moment to observe and listen.

This psalm does not end with the plants and animals. The next stanza calls upon all of humanity to praise the Lord. Humanity is placed here at the end of the list, likely because the psalm seems to be structured around the six days of creation. I like to think there is something more at play. Extreme responses to the climate crisis treat humanity as the problem. While we are certainly culpable for our abuses and irresponsible hoarding of resources, we are not some deviant invaders who have taken over what was never ours. As we read through Psalm 148 we are reminded that we are part of the whole of creation. St. Francis of Assisi’s Canticle of the Sun, echoes this psalm, offering praise to the Lord as he prays through the created world, looking to Brother Sun, Sister Moon, and our other created siblings.

Psalm 148 shows us how the created world is bound up in glorifying God. The vision Peter receives in Acts 11 insists that the whole of creation has been given and made by God. As Peter was told that there was no distinction between clean and profane animals, so too was he convicted that there was no distinction between the circumcised and uncircumcised. He responds to challenges of this belief, “who was I that I could hinder God?” In Revelation 21 we are reminded that God will not abandon the earth and will make it new. We are also told that the world of mortals (that’s us!) is the home of God. The Creator will not leave the creation.

When we join the cosmic chorus praise we receive new melodies to sing and new harmonies to learn. We can praise God on the hiking trail alone, we can offer up worship in the old creaky pew with one too many people crammed into it. The love the Creator has for the world is the same love we are to show to one another. As we tend our gardens and wave to the neighbor across the fence we hear an echo of Jesus’ new commandment—love one another.