During the Sanctus at every Eucharist, we acclaim, “Heaven and earth are full of your glory.” The psalmist proclaims the same throughout this psalm. The psalmist commands heavenly beings to declare God’s splendor! But how shall they do so? With what language and imagery? With the earthly language and imagery we share! The psalmist declares God’s glory in the wildness of floods, thunder, skipping calves, flames, earthquakes, and stripped forests. The psalmist even names particular places: Lebanon, Sirion, and Kadesh. We cannot get away from Earth. It is our home. As biological creatures, the planet is integral to our existence.

The hiccup in our understanding of redemption and the life of the “soul” is the extrapolation that we came from somewhere else and are going somewhere else. I do not mean that I deny our hope of everlasting life or of a new heaven and new earth. (See Revelation 21.) I wish to correct any notions of salvation that render earth, sky, and waters disposable or ultimately insignificant, because heaven and earth are full of God’s glory. The “voice” of nature—the numinous Presence made manifest—is “powerful . . . full of majesty.” God’s “voice” is more than impressive; it wreaks destruction. And, with the psalmist, we stand amazed.

The victims of natural disasters are appalled, and rightly so. With some distance, the rest of us wonder at the sheer force of the planet and universe evolving. The universe is continually being born as it has been for nearly fourteen billion years. It is a wild and beautiful universe over which “the Lord sits enthroned as king forever.” Befriending this is the great work of all religions, including all who are baptized. In our time, our great work of healing is to reconcile humanity’s belonging to our earth and our earth’s Creator.