So much of the foundational theology and worldview that guides me, and our Institute work, is a celebration of creation and creativity. The natural world, in micro and macro, expresses the personality of the Creator, and welcomes us into unseen territories within our own hearts. The worship artisan understands this idea, and forays in both heart and mind behind the veil of the created order.
For some reason, this YouTube clip on the birth of a Beluga Whale in Vancouver deeply moved me. I think I understand why. I love this earth – I love it’s dust, it’s vistas, it’s people and it’s creatures. I love it because something in me tells me I must, and something outside me tells me to try. I haven’t been hurt by it all enough to disdain it (a tsunami or a wild man), but I have been healed by it’s complexity and beauty many times over.
We cheer (like the bystanders in the clip) at birth; we weep or go silent at death. It’s the joy of beginnings, and the fear of unknown endings that seems to be common to us all.
According to the New Testament, the eternal destiny of Christians is not “the sky” or “heaven,” but rather Earth. New heaven’s around us, new earth beneath, all things made new, turned right side up, returned to Edenic glory.
I sing toward that Day.
