Psalm 148

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

Psalm 148 is a song of cosmic praise. Structurally, we behold a layered cosmos. The song begins in the heavens:

Praise the Lord from the heavens.

And then we move toward the earth:

Praise the Lord from the earth.

While in the heavens, celestial beings are called upon to praise the Lord: angels, the heavenly armies, the sun and moon, the stars, the highest heavens, and the waters above the heavens.

On earth, all terrestrial beings are called to praise: sea monsters, ocean depths, lightning, hail, snow, clouds and stormy winds, mountains and hills, fruit and cedar trees, wild animals and cattle, creeping animals and birds. Lastly, the whole of human society is called to praise: kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and judges, young men and women, the old and young together.

What strikes the reader is the anthropomorphism of creation. The stars giving praise. The sun giving praise. Oceans giving praise. Animals giving praise. Storms giving praise. Trees giving praise. Mountains giving praise.

Earlier in this series on the Psalms I described how the imagery of the Psalms opens up the possibility of a baptized paganism, viewing the powers of nature, visible and invisible, as subject to the lordship of Christ. I shared how C.S. Lewis presents a vision of this baptized paganism in The Chronicles of Narnia. It’s worth sharing again this lovely illustration from The Magician’s Nephew where the children bear witness to Aslan creating the world:

The Lion opened his mouth, but no sound came from it; he was breathing out, a long, warm breath; it seemed to sway all the beasts as the wind sways a line of trees. Far overhead from beyond the veil of blue sky which hid them the stars sang again; a pure, cold, difficult music. Then there came a swift flash like fire (but it burnt nobody) either from the sky or from the Lion itself, and every drop of blood tingled in the children’s bodies, and the deepest, wildest voice they had ever heard was saying: “Narnia, Narnia, Narnia, awake. Love. Think. Speak. Be walking trees. Be talking beasts. Be divine waters.”

It was of course the Lion’s voice. The children had long felt sure that he could speak: yet it was a lovely and terrible shock when he did. Out of the trees wild people stepped forth, gods Fauns and Satyrs and Dwarfs. Out of the river rose the river god with his Naiad daughters. And all these and all the beasts and birds in their different voices, low or high or thick or clear, replied:

“Hail, Aslan. We hear and obey. We are awake. We love. We think. We speak. We know.”

Lewis is here blending nature mysticism with Christianity. Creation is alive and awake. And because alive and awake, capable of the praise we behold in Psalm 148.

Praise the Lord, shining stars. Praise the Lord, every tree. Praise the Lord, sun and moon. Praise the Lord, all you seas.