As people misguidedly worship the creation rather than the Creator on this “Earth Day,” centering their hearts on elephants (and various endangered species) rather than acknowledging the enormous elephant in the room—WHO created the mighty elephant and the miniscule ant?—it is easy to miss the mark ourselves and center our minds on mockery of such silliness. Some silliness does deserve mockery. But…let us be focused properly on the purpose of our existence, which is not to poke fun for our own amusement or self-aggrandizement, but to draw attention back to the One to whom we should all bow down and worship. We worship our Father God, Creator of Heaven and Earth; the Earth is not our mother. The Earth is the inheritance of the meek, the land promised to those who honor their father and mother in the way God has commanded (see Ephesians 6:1-3).
This sonnet is about the foolish way we look at the beauty of the Earth and neglect to see the mighty power of its Creator God. Pray for eyes to read this “fair volume” with the right perspective.
The Book of the World
by William Drummond of Hawthornden
Of this fair volume which we “world” do name,
If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care,
Of Him who it corrects, and did it frame,
We clear might read the art and wisdom rare;
Find out his power which wildest powers doth tame,
His providence extending everywhere,
His justice which proud rebels doth not spare.
In every page, no, period of the same:
But silly we (like foolish children) rest
Well pleased with colored vellum, leaves of gold,
Fair dangling ribbons, leaving what is best,
On the great Writer’s sense ne’er taking hold;
Or if by chance our minds do muse on aught,
It is some picture on the margin wrought.
This is a sonnet: how many lines does it contain?
What is the metaphor of this poem?
To think about: what are proper and improper uses of beauty?