My husband is a musician but he rarely sends me music to listen to. He is well versed and discerning of the catalog of rock/indie/pop/techno/industrial music in the world. I, on the other hand, never bought CDs as a teenager and mainly listened to whatever came on the radio.
Despite my ignorance, he prefers to let me explore for myself rather than guide me to what I “should” be listening to. So I was surprised and pleased when he sent me a link to a 2004 Sufjan Stevens song titled “All the Trees of the Field Will Clap Their Hands.” I read the lyrics first to see if I could discern what prompted this musical gift, then as the light plucking of the banjo strings began, I knew he had found the perfect song to conclude this year’s Easter service — the perfect response to the Resurrection.
Lisa Cole Smith
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In the first verse the singer ponders a decision to make a deeper commitment and leave doubt behind. He asks, “Will I be a part of what you’ve made?” Not just, “Will I decide to accept what you’ve said and mentally ascent to belief in your tenants?” Rather, he questions, “Will I be invited to the sound?”
In a chorus of “da,da,das,” the second verse begins and the trees and hills sing. For the first time the singer notices this chorus of the natural world making a band, a parade, worshipping God with their very being. They have no doubt, no questioning, no time when worship starts or ends. It is why they were created. Their very existence is a testimony to God’s glory. There is no ambivalence. Simply to exist is to worship God.
And the singer is wooed by this way of being, by the desire to let go of his own doubt and fear and surrender every part to God. The joy of the simple chorus singing behind him builds and then, after the words of the song are over, the singer’s voice faintly joins the chorus. He “joins the sound.”
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I think this simple song is deceptively brilliant. (Sufjan Stevens is brilliant, by the way. He is both a Christian and a true artist and I highly recommend him.) Hidden in the childlike melody and simple lyrics is a profound call to Christians to worship God with our whole being. The fact that we designate only a particular time on Sunday (or even worse, a particular 15 minutes within that time) as “worship” indicates that we are not always aware of what that word means or what God requires of us.
Worshipping God is giving adoration, reverence, devotion. The Scriptures indicate that rocks and trees do this by existing and that we are commanded to do it, too — not just once a week when we sing but with every breath we take.
We Christians believe that God is worthy of worship, but I wonder how many of us are secretly uncomfortable with the idea that it is our sole reason for existence. I often find myself preferring to believe that God exists in order to help me with my life, to make it easier or make me feel better. God exists because I need someone
to call on in times of need. Yet if this is the case, the atheists are right. That kind of faith is a fantasy of sorts. In that faith, I am fashioning a God to fill my needs rather than worshipping a God who fashioned me.
Instead, this Lent, I am thinking of worship as “joining the sound.” I am going to add my voice to the chorus of song already sung by every form of life that is in perfect harmony with God. Like the trees and rocks and birds who worship God simply by being — just as intended — I am surrendering my being to worship of God. I’m going to try to imagine what my life might be like if I was fully as God intended and embrace an idea of whole-life worship, learning to see my everyday common world through the lens of the transcendent, submitting myself to making every act an act of worship.
And I heard from the trees a great parade.
And I heard from the hills a band was made.
And will I be invited to the sound?
And will I be a part of what you've made?
And I am throwing all my thoughts away.
And I'm destroying every bet I've made.
And I am joining all my thoughts to you.
And I'm preparing every part for you.
From “All the Trees of the Field Will Clap their Hands,” Sufjan Stevens, 2004.
Lisa Cole Smith ([email protected]) is pastor of Convergence: A Creative Community of Faith in Alexandria, Va.