Creation Sings Through Human Lips

Franz Kafka wrote some bizarre stuff, maybe none more bizarre than his short story The Metamorphosis. It’s built around a haunting premise: A young man, in his bedroom in his family’s home, goes to sleep one night and awakens as an “enormous pest,”¹ a man-sized insect. We’re never given a precise description, but we read that he has a hard, armor-like back and spindly, pitifully thin legs that wave helplessly. It’s something like a giant beetle. The former man can no longer speak words; he now only lets out a “painful chirping” — a loud, high-pitched squeaking sound that’s unintelligible to his family.

He continues to have lucid thoughts but cannot share them. He is, Kafka tells us, speechless — no longer in communication with humans. His horrified family slams his bedroom door in disgust. His father grows harsh. The pest hides inside his house and mostly in his bedroom. He becomes a burden to all. His sister brings him food and cleans his room at first, but that kindness ends over time. His tastes change. He grows repulsed by his favorite foods in favor of rotten scraps. His volition erodes. He ebbs into something subhuman. His room becomes his prison.

He is isolated, neglected, frustrated, depressed, and then he expires. It is a claustrophobic horror story of the nightmare of transforming from a volitional creature to a non-volitional insect, cut off from humanity. And yet, as dark and dehumanizing as Kafka’s vision is, it introduces us to a very humanizing theme.

My assignment tonight is to look at the joyful purpose of creation through the eyes of a Christian Hedonist. Specifically, for those of us who still want to be happy, how does all that God created relate to my own joy? This is the connection made in Psalm 148. Turn there, near the end of the book. The whole Psalter has been building into a praise crescendo, which is why Psalm 148 looks like a repetitive contemporary worship song with this “Praise the Lord” refrain.

Here’s the outline. It’s a praise sandwich, with the bulk in the middle. Praising angels frame the beginning of the psalm, in verses 1–2. Worshiping people frame the conclusion of the psalm, in verses 11–14. Sandwiched in the middle is the praise of non-volitional creation — the praise of stars and planets and moons and weather and mountains and animals and insects (like beetles). And I want to ask: Why? Why this praise sandwich?

Chorus from the Sky

So, let us first ascend into the praise chorus from the sky.

Praise the Lord!
Praise the Lord from the heavens;
     praise him in the heights!
Praise him, all his angels;
     praise him, all his hosts! (Psalm 148:1–2)

The psalm starts high, encouraging the angels to praise God from high elevations. I don’t know that angels need to be reminded to praise — but if they need it, here’s the reminder.

With that, we turn to the bulk of the psalm, which is the praise of non-volitional creation. This is the middle layer, but still high.

Praise him, sun and moon,
     praise him, all you [billions of] shining stars!
Praise him, you highest heavens,
     and you waters above the heavens!

Let them praise the name of the Lord!
     For he commanded and they were created.
And he established them forever and ever;
     he gave a decree, and it shall not pass away. (verses 3–6)

Again, we’re still in the sky — angels to stars. From the farthest glittering star, way out in the black sky, God’s decree is behind all creation and all his providence. We praise God for his all-sovereign design and governance of all that he has made from nothing, by sheer command.

Chorus from the Earth

Praise the Lord from the earth,
     you great sea creatures and all deeps. (verse 7)

Praise the Lord, whales and dolphins that explore oceanic deeps — secret canyons and ravines and underwater cliffs that most of us will never see. (There’s at least one scuba diver in the house.)

Fire and hail, snow and mist,
     stormy wind fulfilling his word! (verse 8)

Fire from the sky is lightning. If you’ve read my latest tech book or heard my message on Job 36–37, you know that the whole digital, electrified age is gifted to us in this fire from the sky.

Now, circle wind and word. It’s a play on words. Note the closeness of God in his creation. God speaks a commanding word, and his wind blows.² And it’s not just wind but stormy wind. God speaks a commanding word, and storm winds blow. Praise the Lord, you thunderbolts and hailstorms and stormy winds that fulfill God’s will. God decreed you to be, and all your stormy churnings fulfill his word.

Mountains and all hills [praise the Lord],
     fruit trees and all cedars!
Beasts and all livestock,
     creeping things and flying birds! (verses 9–10)

Put together, verses 3–10 encompass the entire cosmic and terrestrial ecosystem:

• the heavenly lights — sun, moon, and stars;
• weather elements — storm clouds, lightning, snow, fog, and powerful winds;
• land and sea features — oceanic canyons under the waterline and the soaring Alps above the waterline;
• all plant life — fruit trees and tall cedars;
• the animal and insect kingdoms — from sea creatures to wild animals to domesticated animals, including every crawling creature (like beetles) and every flying bird in the sky.

All of it is God’s handiwork. All of it is designed by God!

Chorus from Humanity

Intentionally, the psalm ends with us, with people at the bottom of the praise sandwich. First it’s all peoples — of all tribes and peoples!

Kings of the earth and all peoples [impressive people and unimpressive people],
     princes and all rulers of the earth!
Young men and maidens together [both sexes],
     old men and children [whole age range]!

Let them praise the name of the Lord [Why? Here’s the ground of human praise],
     for his name alone is exalted;
     his majesty is above earth and heaven. (verses 11–13)

Godward praise from every human on earth is fitting because God’s majesty is beyond Mars.³ This creation, in all its luster here, is a mere echo of God’s essential majesty. The majesty of this creation points to a supreme majesty beyond the stars — a majesty that warrants praise from every human. Everyone! All peoples of all ranks, classes, and ages, both sexes, and all the peoples of all the nations of the world — the rich, the famous, the elderly, the ignored nobodies — everyone praise this God! You, human, were made for this very purpose!

Then the psalm ends with a specific call to God’s people to praise.

He has raised up a horn for his people,
     praise for all his saints,
     for the people of Israel who are near to him.
Praise the Lord! (verse 14)

Only those close to God praise God. You can be religious and distant from God, but true worshipers are affectionate. They are those who draw near to God.⁴ So, the God whose majesty extends beyond Mars draws me close to himself. Do you have that category in your theology? Or do those poles rip your theology in half? Your joy demands that you learn to hold that together: “I draw near to the God who exceeds all of creation.”

Five Pleas for Every Person

Based on this psalm, I want to close with five pleas to my fellow humans.

1. Human, behold the God who made every atom in the universe to worship God.

Look around you! Every atomic particle in creation exists because God decreed that it exist — and he willed it into existence for his own glory. He made all things for himself. As Paul says, “By him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities — all things were created through him and for him” (Colossians 1:16). From the giant blazing heart of our galaxy down to dancing electrons, all things exist for him.

This is why John Calvin makes the bold assertion that “the whole order of nature is subverted and overthrown, if the same God who is the beginning of all things, is not also the end of all things.”⁵ The entire structure and coherence of the natural world breaks apart into nihilistic chaos if the Creator is not also the goal. So, if God’s creation fails to point to God’s glory as its final goal, all of creation collapses into total absurdity. There is zero rationale for creation to exist other than to say that God made it for himself. God is the point of creation.

And if that’s true, then we ask, “Okay, so how is God the end of creation?” It’s not automatic. Psalm 148 is teaching us how.

2. Human, listen to the sermon of the silent majesty of creation.

The heavens are preaching a sermon to us! Listen to Psalm 19 (which is weird). First, it says, “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork. Day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge” (verses 1–2). And then it says, “There is no speech, nor are there words, whose voice is not heard. Their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world” (verses 3–4). So odd. Creation preaches a sermon, with words — kind of. But if you can’t hear it, there are no words. But if you can hear it, there are words.

“When you praise God, you awaken the muted glory of creation and put that praise into words.”

Psalm 148 says the whole creation of God preaches to us; its creatures declare to us his majesty, his wisdom and power and mercy. Birds soaring, oceans roaring, the Alps stretching up into the clouds — if we simply pay attention, “they all declare to us that we ought to worship, to fear, to love and obey, the God that made all these things.”⁶ But here’s the problem behind it all. “All the Creatures that are visible, are mute, besides man.”⁷ In the words of one Puritan, “The other creatures cannot praise their Maker, but by dumb signs and hints to man.”⁸ Dumb signs and hints.

This is like in a movie when someone gets kidnapped. They’re gagged, duct-taped, locked in a room, but eventually they get put on video to show proof of life — and the person kidnapped blinks Morse code, or they keep looking to initials they etched on the wall. That’s creation: duct-taped, but nodding something to us. The sun blazing, the eagle soaring, the thunder echoing — all of it is trying to speak in dumb signs and hints.

Here is another metaphor. Creation is “like a beautifully printed book, opened for one to see the beauty of the characters, without understanding the language it speaks.”⁹ It’s like a toddler picking up a dazzling fifteenth-century manuscript, elegantly illustrated by hand in bright inks — but the meaning of the book is veiled. The child admires the shape of the letters, the illustrations, the colors, the symmetry of the layout, and the richness of the parchment, yet that toddler remains utterly ignorant of the message that it contains. Creation is the immaculately illustrated manuscript that testifies of God’s intelligence, full of words. But unless the Spirit teaches your soul to read the characters, there are no words.

Pick your metaphor. It’s a sermon manuscript without a preacher, a passive monument standing in the middle of the desert for some reason but without a legible sign, a kidnapped man giving hints and nods, a beautiful book with mysterious characters, a hymnbook left unread, a man-sized beetle. There’s a frustration within the non-volitional created order because it cannot fulfill its purpose.

3. Human, feel the cosmic nudge to worship God.

If God has lifted the veil and you can now read the manuscript, here’s what creation says in all caps: “You, human, who still wants to be happy, leave the idols that you made with your own hands and worship the God who made everything!” That’s the sermon. If you have ears to hear it, that’s what you hear. Creation does not merely exist to display beauty — it exists to call you to worship the God beyond the created beauty. Don’t worship the sun. Hear the sun declare, “Worship my Maker!”

Here’s Jonathan Edwards: “If we look to the heavens or the earth; or birds, beasts, or fishes; or plants and trees: if we do but take notice of it, they all declare to us that we ought to worship, to fear, to love and obey, the God that made all these things.”¹⁰ Yes, every leaf, every feather, every star is a silent messenger pointing you toward your duty of delight. A universe made by God and for God is not a neutral world; it’s “a theater of God’s magnificence”¹¹ for your senses to delight in the majesty of your God. Do you feel this nudge toward worship? Or are thunderstorms just some indifferent system that mixes temperature, pressure, humidity, and blind physical laws? Or do those storms point you to God’s majesty?

We’re moving toward understanding this psalm. So, (1) behold the God who made all things for himself; (2) listen for the silent song; (3) feel creation nudge you to worship. And now . . .

4. Human, give voice to creation’s worship.

For centuries, theologians have seen this reality in creation. When you praise God, you do more than simply fulfill your own purpose. When you praise, you awaken the muted glory of creation and put that praise into words. We are the mouth through which the whole created order was meant to speak.

This is so insightfully put by Edwards that I went into the Yale archive and pulled the page of this sermon to show you his own handwriting. Edwards declares, God “made man and Placed him here to be the Eye of the Creation to see the Glory that he manifests and the tongue to declare it.”¹² We are the eye of creation — to take in nature’s glory. And we are the tongue of creation — to express creation’s praise to the Creator. The stars, the skies, the snow, the ocean, the insects, and the birds of the earth — none of them has a voice to speak their Creator’s praise. But their beauty, their order, their strength are a hymnbook.

Samuel Rutherford has his own metaphor. Creation is like a neglected harp in a dusty corner, “which of itself can make no Music. The creatures borrow man’s mouth and tongue to speak what they have been thinking of God and his excellency these five thousand years.” The world is filled with silent instruments! No animal can form thanks. The trees do not declare the kindness of their Maker. The stars cannot praise the One who hung them. But we can — and must — give language to their worship. This is not just poetic possibility; this is a priestly calling! Here again is Jonathan Edwards: “All other creatures bring their tribute of glory to humans, to be offered up through our hands to the Creator.”¹³

So, what does all this mean?

5. Human, you are the high priest of creation’s worship.

God redeemed his people through the blood of our high priest, Jesus Christ, and he redeemed us to function in creation as “high priests,” to offer up the praises of all creation to God.¹⁴ As leaders of creation’s worship, we are not simply fulfilling some obligation. No. We have entered into a joy for which we were made — to know, love, and rejoice in the Creator, and to lead all of creation in this sacred praise. Our worship fulfills our own purpose as it completes the silent adoration of all creation.

This is why we humans occupy such a central position in the cosmic order, set apart by our ability to know God in ways no other creature can. As “the tongue in the body,” we speak on behalf of creation, articulating its silent praise to the Maker, in effect gathering up a “tribute of praise” from the mountains, oceans, birds, and beasts, to return to God.¹⁵

I love ethics. I love talking about smartphones, social media, Hollywood’s spectacle-making machine, Silicon Valley, big tech, AI, and all that. And I’ve given my life to helping you find answers to life’s hardest struggles in the Ask Pastor John podcast. In fact, on my flight here, I was reviewing a long list of new questions for next season. Great questions! (Glad to be on my side of the microphone asking the questions and not his side of the mic having to answer them!) I love applied Christianity in the nitty-gritty of this life. There’s a time to answer pressing questions. And there’s time, like tonight, to step back and answer no pressing question — to simply take in God’s grand design for the universe. Will Psalm 148 fix your marriage, or your kids, or your workplace tensions, or your fear of the future? Maybe. I think it can, but indirectly.

My mom sews. For years she’s made cloth dolls. And when you sew them together, basically you’re working on the doll inside out. All the messy seams are showing. The doll is misshapen as its face looks entirely inside of itself. And then, when it’s time to stuff the doll, you turn it right side out, and all the seams go inside. Psalm 148 is like that. It takes self-focused, miserable, depressed sinners, focused on themselves, and turns them right side out, to see themselves in God’s plan for the universe.

Psalm 148 has a simple and profound point. When the psalmist calls for non-volitional creatures to praise God, “all this is but to quicken up his own heart to that duty which was his, rather than theirs,” because in this way are we told that “all God’s works are said to praise him, as they become to man both the motives and subjects of [our] praise.”¹⁶ Do you see that? When we behold God’s “invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature,” which we behold “in the things that have been made” (Romans 1:20) — when we see God’s majesty beyond creation glimmering in creation, at that moment his creation is praising him through us.¹⁷

Psalm 148 isn’t about training dolphins to sing Getty songs. It was written because every single command to worship for the stars and whales and storm clouds and lightning and snow and fog and gusty storm winds and canyons under the waterline and mountains and hills above the waterline and trees and birds and insects — every command for creation to worship is a new command for us to joyfully worship the Creator.

You still want to be happy. You do! I know you do, because God sparked that undying desire inside each of us. You can’t extinguish it. And your desire to be happy is why God made himself the end of creation. He’s the point of creation. In his design, his glory and our happiness are wedded together in one as we worship him, taking in creation’s majesty with our eyes, to sing that praise back to the Creator with our mouths. We are the happy choir of creation. Creation is drawing us together, even tonight, into a choir assembled at the very center of God’s purpose for everything else that he has made.