All Creatures… Really

by DanWolgemuth on February 15, 2013

I don’t pretend to know what moved the heart of Saint Francis of Assisi when he penned the words of “All Creatures of our God and King,” but I do know that the power of his inspiration rolled fresh across my soul as I stood beside the massive Atlantic Ocean several days ago.

All creatures; everything created; praising our Creator God. It wasn’t hard to picture it as I watched birds soar and waves crash.

I wondered if the first choir rehearsal in the Garden of Eden had a section for sopranos, a section for altos, basses, tenors, owls, lions, canines, meadowlarks, donkeys… all creatures with the fullness of their endowed voices lifting praise and adoration – not for their own purposes, but for the grand and glorious reality that the Creator is worthy to be praised.

There is no single member of this choir that deserves or desires praise. There is no other voice worth worshipping… only the matchless and beautiful name that is above every name. The Conductor of all Conductors.

In the Garden the harmony was layered in perfection. Tight. Rich. Courageous. Elegant and powerfully woven into a tapestry of exaltation. But a hiss from a choir member and a discontented nod from a soprano and base propelled the choir into disarray.

Now we get small glimpses of what the intended beauty might have been. We hear a melody; we catch the power of the percussion section next to the Atlantic; we hear the pristine beauty of a child’s song… and we are constrained, like Saint Francis, to shout Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.

All creatures.

Everything crafted by the King – should, can, and will worship.

The ocean reminded me.

Can you hear the chorus? Have our earbuds muted His praise? Has the sound of traffic overpowered the voice of a cardinal? Did the latest high rise obscure the waves of the willow?

All creatures – not in self-worship – not in exaltation to creation – but in riveting praise to the one and only Creator God.

The white caps of the timpani – the winged glide of the altos – the whisper of the sand as the waves retreated… moved me to say…

Alleluia. Yes, Alleluia.

Someday in perfection once again… but until then, the ocean, the mountains, the farm field, the family, the forest – all creatures.

Lift up your voice and with us sing.

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