Hymn:
"For the Beauty of the Earth"
For the beauty of the earth
For the beauty of the skies
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies
Over and around us lies
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our joyful hymn of praise
For the beauty of the hour
Of the day and of the night
Hill and vale and tree and flower
Sun and moon and stars of light
Sun and moon and stars of light
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our joyful hymn of praise
To our race so freely given
Graces human and divine
Flow'rs of earth and buds of heav'n
Flow'rs of earth and buds of heav'n
Lord of all, to thee we raise
This our joyful hymn, our joyful hymn of praise
This our joyful hymn of praise
In the spring of 1863...
Folliott S. Pierpoint
(b. Bath, Somerset, England, 1835;
d. Newport, Monmouthshire, England, 1917)
sat on a hilltop outside his
native city of Bath, England,
admiring the country view
and the winding Avon River.
Inspired by the view to think about
God's gifts in creation and in the church,
Pierpont wrote the above text for the hymn
"For The Beauty of the Earth".
"The Wonder of the Creation"*
I awoke before sunrise, as I always do when camping.
My wife and I and two friends were camped
at the base of one of the many mountain ranges
in the western Utah desert.
It was late spring,
and sunrises came early,
but the waiting adventures of the new day
drew me from the warmth of my sleeping bag.
Unable to coax anyone to join me,
I walked alone a short distance from camp
to the top of a rocky knoll.
The area was remote:
the nearest paved road was more than 20 miles away,
the nearest settlement more than 50.
From where I stood,
all that was visible
was untouched by human hands.
Around me,
sharp-edged white boulders were interspersed
with juniper and occasional blossoms of cacti
and globe mallow.
Ahead of me,
a serene shadowed valley gave way to ridge
after purple ridge of mountains
stretching toward the growing dawn.
Directly behind me,
a towering peak of white rock
caught the orange blush of sunrise.
There was a certain timelessness to that moment—
waiting for the sun to clear t
he distant crest of the Wasatch Plateau.
I could imagine a time even more ancient—
a time when no mortal eye had viewed that scene—
when perhaps even
the hosts of heaven surveyed the landscapes
of the newly prepared earth with gratitude,
wonderment,
and awe.
I thought of these words in Genesis:
“God saw every thing that he had made,
and, behold, it was very good”
(Gen. 1:31).
I wondered if it might have been at such a time
“when the morning stars sang together,
and all the sons of God shouted for joy”
(Job 38:7).
As I reflected on those verses,
my spirit confirmed that
“all things which [God] had made
were very good”
(Moses 2:31).
That sunrise was,
for me,
an intensely religious experience.
I was dressed only in blue jeans and a sweatshirt,
covered with the dust of the previous day’s rockhounding
and saturated with the smell of the previous night’s campfire—
not the usual setting for a spiritual experience.
But the feeling of wonder
for the gift of this earth I derived from that experience
is one I will never forget.
Since that time
I have tried to renew that feeling
by reflecting again on those verses,
on the beauties of our world,
and on the kindness of its Creator.
Of course,
we need not travel to the desert
to gain such a perspective.
As we read and discuss the Creation story,
we may also experience feelings of
reverent awe
as we give thoughtful consideration to what
the gift of the Creation means to us
and to what the Creator
would have us learn from it.
Testimony to a Creator
We can draw three lessons from nature’s grandeur:
first, God exists;
second, God is powerful;
and third, God loves us.
One way we can feel a surety of the Creator’s existence
is to observe His handiwork.
While it is the Holy Spirit that conveys such a testimony to our hearts, we may first prepare our hearts to receive it.
A marvelous way to do this is to
gaze into a star-filled sky on a moonless night
or at the intricate patterns on the back of a single maple leaf.
As Alma taught,
“All things denote there is a God;
yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it,
yea, and its motion,
yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form
do witness that
there is a Supreme Creator”
(Alma 30:44).
The same things that
prepare our hearts for the knowledge of God’s existence
teach us of His power.
The Lord Himself has stated:
“The earth rolls upon her wings,
and the sun giveth his light by day,
and the moon giveth her light by night,
and the stars also give their light,
as they roll upon their wings in their glory,
in the midst of the power of God.
“Unto what shall I liken these kingdoms,
that ye may understand?
“Behold, all these are kingdoms,
and any man who hath seen any or the least of these
hath seen God moving in his
majesty and power”
(D&C 88:45–47).
We are keenly aware of God’s majesty and power
when we see His handiwork in motion.
Next time you stand at the foot of a roaring waterfall
or at the toe of a mighty glacier,
reflect on the power of the Creator.
Along with teaching us that God exists
and that He is powerful,
the very existence of this earth
impresses upon us the
reality that God loves us.
God’s manifest power in the universe leads us to say,
as did David,
“When I consider thy heavens,
the work of thy fingers,
the moon
and the stars,
which thou hast ordained;
“What is man,
that thou art mindful of him?”
(Ps. 8:3–4).
Our answer may be found in asking another question:
how important must mankind be to God,
seeing that He has created all of this
for us?
We are surrounded by signs of God’s love for us.
The beauty of Creation itself is
“love which from our birth over and around us lies”
(“For the Beauty of the Earth,” Hymns, no. 92).
The teachings of the restored gospel heighten our realization
of how the very Creation of the earth
is a manifestation of God’s love for us.
Modern revelation teaches that life is a blessing—
an opportunity to prove ourselves,
gain a physical body,
and further our eternal progress.
We were present at the Creation,
singing with joy for the
opportunities this earth would afford us.
Though we don’t remember that event now,
the beauty around us
is a constant reminder of our
Heavenly Father’s love
and concern
for His children.
“And it pleaseth God that he hath
given all these things unto man;
for unto this end were they made
to be used,
with judgment,
not to excess,
neither by extortion.
“And in nothing doth man offend God,
or against none is his wrath kindled,
save those who confess not his hand in all things,
and obey not his commandments”
(D&C 59:20–21).
When I was a teenager,
a good brother in our (church) whom I admired
pronounced a blessing on his new baby daughter.
This man had a tremendous appreciation for the creations of God.
I remember that the blessing he gave was quite unusual,
and several thoughts from it stuck in my mind.
He blessed his infant with
a sense of wonder for the natural beauty
that would surround her in this life—
to “find wisdom in the trident leaf of the sage.”
Now, many years later,
through experiences like the sunrise in the desert,
I have come to appreciate the value of that blessing.
That daughter is by now a young woman.
I hope she treasures the gifts
pronounced by her father in that blessing.
I would wish the same blessing on us all:
to find wisdom in the beauty of nature
and to glean from each part of Creation
that which it would teach us
about its Creator.
