Long ago, King Solomon wrote that there is nothing new under the sun. Generations come and go. Winds, waters, the earth, and even heavenly bodies simply repeat their circuits and are the same from age to age. But in Psalm 96 we are told to sing a new song. We are told to sing and praise God because something new has happened, namely salvation. God was born as man in Bethlehem!
“Sing to the Lord a new song: sing to the Lord all the earth!
Sing to the Lord, bless His name; tell of His salvation from day to day”
(Psalm 96:1-2).
“Let the heavens be glad, and the earth rejoice;
let the sea roar…
the field exalt and everything in it…
the trees of the forest sing for joy”
(Psalm 96:11-12).
And notice, it’s not just we humans who are called to sing praise, but even nature, too. But how does a tree praise the Lord? Or a field? Or the heavens or the sea?
Well, perhaps we’re thinking too small when it comes to praise. Praise is more than just singing a few words during a worship service. Praise can also include the most basic sounds and sights of being and doing just what God created a tree to do—or a bird, stars, or a field and everything in it.
To be and do. In every way. Just as God intended. You could call this the elemental form of praise.
As an example, consider the mountains. Have you ever driven to Colorado? My family went this summer. You drive along through north Texas, the panhandle, and into Oklahoma—all of it is flat and relatively boring to drive through—but there is always that moment when you see something way in the distance and you squint your eyes for better look and, behold, it’s not just clouds low on the horizon. It’s the mountains. You sit forward just a bit. You get closer. They get bigger, more beautiful and majestic, large and surreal. But the mountains don’t do anything spectacular. They are spectacular! They just exist. Yet, no matter how static, how many times does God’s Word ascribe to the mountains the job of glorifying God not by their actions but by their being—their sheer size and strength and immovableness?
Or stand on the rim of the Grand Canyon and look down. It takes your breath away. Or walk along an ocean beach and stare out into the horizon. You’ll marvel at how blue water merges with blue sky, forming one vast horizon that hypnotizes you with beauty.
Or don’t go anywhere at all. Just stand in one place. Peep through a microscope at a single drop of pond water—it may as well be an entire ocean for all that you’ll discover swimming there. Or pick up a rock in your backyard. It’s nothing special, but it’s thoroughly obedient. It fully pleases its Creator by just lying there in your backyard doing nothing and yet, at the same time, everything it’s meant to do, all the time. It’s just stone. And that’s the point!
Don’t you see? From the beginning to the end. Everywhere you look. Nature, in the simplest ways and in the simplest forms, displays the glory of God by being and doing what it was created to do.
Oh, if only the same were true of humanity! Mountains and trees, sky and sea, the rocks and even smallest drops of water all obey their maker, but mankind does not and cannot.
How can it be that a tree or mountain, stone or water can glorify the Lord better than you or me? Mankind is the crown of God’s workmanship, shaped by God’s own hand from the dust of the earth. God graced our race by breathing into us the breath of life. God made us in His image. Not the trees. Not the mountains. Not the seas, not the rocks. You and me! God made us for this purpose. Like a mirror, we were made to reflect the glory of God into all creation.
It just goes to show the devastating effects of sin upon each of us. We all have in our collective mind an agreed upon notion of what we are supposed to be—what the image of God looks like. We have an agreed upon idea of what a godly man is to be. We could probably come up with a list of attributes that would define the ideal husband or father: provider, protector, strong and faithful. We have an agreed upon idea of what a godly woman is to be: a wife, a mother, a nourisher—gentile and encouraging—whose beauty is seen by the way she blesses those around her. We all have a notion of what the perfect marriage is like or the perfect friendship, the perfect career or the perfect family. You can watch the Andy Griffith show and see the ideal community. But how often do these visions seem more mirage or fairytale or a black & white TV show from the 50’s?
We live in the real world where people seldom do what they were created to do. It’s a world filled with sin and here the script that we are all reading from doesn’t seem to work. The ideal doesn’t translate into the real. The props are in disarray and the actors seem all wrong for the part they play. This is sin. This is what it has done to us.
This brokenness extends beyond us into the creation around us. For as many ways that creation praises the Lord of life by being just what He made it to be, how sad it is that it seldom takes long for us to see and hear within creation sights and sounds that fill us with fear, grief or pain. Fires rage through drought-stricken forests and once majestic trees rage red in flames and then turn to ash and die. Hurricanes and tornadoes ravage and destroy. The mountains quake with earthquakes, avalanches and mudslides, or literally blowup in volcanic explosions. The microscope that reveals the marvels of infinitesimal life, from the amoeba to the single cell protozoa, also reveals entire families of bacteria and germs that can cause sickness and suffering, disease and death, and this is most evident in the tear that runs down our eye when the doctor diagnoses a loved one with something that won’t be cured easily, if it can be cured at all.
In Romans 8, the Apostle Paul addresses all this ugliness and brokenness in us, in nature around us, and everything under the sun. He says: “For the creation was subjected to futility . . . We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly.”
You hear that? We groan. Why? Because we know things aren’t right and we can’t fix it. So why should we praise the Lord as Palm 96 urges us to do? Why should we sing a new song?” With all that is broken around us and in us, why should we compose a new song of praise?
Well, that’s the beauty of the season we are now entering: The season of Advent. We are making ready once again for the coming of the Lord. In Romans 8, we’re told that creation hopes for the day it will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into glorious freedom. All creation is waiting for the redemption of our bodies, and that redemption began 2000 years ago when the least likely part of creation sang out in praise… the day that stones sang a new song. Yes, stones!
I want you to think back on that day when Jesus entered Jerusalem for the last time. We call it Palm Sunday. It was five days until Jesus would hang on a cross. But despite that terribly wrong ending, everything else seemed to be so right. As Jesus was approaching Jerusalem, He sent His disciples ahead to find a small donkey, one that had never been ridden before. And, when Jesus told them to do it, they did it. No argument! How strange. They simply did what disciples do. And sure enough, they run ahead and they come across a donkey that is tied up, just as Jesus said. The donkey’s owners saw them untie the little animal and asked them what they were doing. Now Jesus had told them this would happen, and He told them to simply say, “The Lord needs it.” When the owner heard that, he immediately let them take the donkey away. He responded to the word of God, yielded to its authority. Then Jesus rides this untamed donkey and it responds to His touch, gentle and mild. And as Jesus enters the city, people respond immediately in praise, they run and find palm branches and sing a new song to Jesus: “Hosanna! Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord.” So many shouts and cheers. Praise and glory. All for Jesus. All as it should be.
But just like the world we live in, not everything was perfect. Not everyone was pleased. The Pharisees, of course, did not like Jesus. They tried to silence the praise, demanding that He stop the whole procession. But Jesus answered them: “I tell you if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.” It sounded strange at the time. But not quite a week later, the Pharisees got their wish.
They silence Jesus by killing Him with a cross. These leaders of the people of God, who should have known better, who should have led the people to see their Maker and King, they didn’t do what they were created to do. They chased His followers away. Creation grew dark on that day and the praise stopped.
But then, just as Jesus said, the stones cried out. Yes, the stones! On the third day, Easter morning, stone began to sing against stone. Like a melody and harmony working together, the stone in front of the tomb rolling back and rubbing against the stone tomb, itself. That beautiful grinding sound, just the kind of song you expect a stone to make when a tomb is opened. Yet, what a beautiful song. The stones were the very first part of creation to sing the praises of God on that day of redemption and restoration, when the new creation awoke in the resurrected Jesus.
Today, we brace ourselves for that day we know is coming, the day the groaning stops. On that day, so much more than the stones will cry out; every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord. All creation will sing a new song of praise to Him. But, in the meantime, don’t lose hope for that day. When life is hard or the work grows stale—even when you feel more like groaning than singing—put your faith in the fact that IN CHRIST, YOU CAN BE WHAT GOD MADE YOU AND CALLED YOU TO BE. Nothing will praise Him more than that! Each and every day is a brand new opportunity sing that song. So sing!
O Lord, open my lips... 