Today’s communion piece is a hymn by English composer and theologian, Erik Routley, who is one of the most significant figures in 20^th-century hymnology. Routley wrote nearly 40 books on theology and music and wrote pieces for choir, violin, piano, and organ. He also has more than 120 hymn tunes to his credit, was involved in the creation and revision of many hymnals, and gave lectures all over the world.

I’m certain that Routley had a deep passion for hymnody. Why else would someone devote an entire career to them? Perhaps you can hear that exuberance in his music this morning. Routley was indeed prolific, and didn’t seem to have a problem expressing his creativity. What I find most difficult about creative work is not obsessing over and being critical about what I produce. If you obsess over and criticize your creative work, not only does it slow you down, but that negative impression will remain in the work itself. When people engage with your creation, they will sense your state of mind when you produced it. The reason why I say Routley was passionate about hymns is that this one has a smile behind it, or at least that’s what I detect in the background.

I think the key to any creative work is to enjoy the doing, and to do it from a sense of playfulness and authenticity. If you look at nature, she doesn’t seem to be overly concerned about “perfection,” or about what we think of it. Behind what she creates is a childish smile, a grin, and a giggle. Everything in nature seems to have a kind of effervescent whimsy. The landscape is wobbly, the rivers are crooked, and the stars are scattered like glitter. A perfectionist or an obsessive compulsive-type would have “fixed” all of that “randomness,” and put the stars in a grid. So-called landscaping, or classical gardening takes the natural and turns it into the unnatural. We place plants in predictable, symmetrical patterns and adorn weedless lawns with spherical topiaries in mulched borders. In the jungle, it’s one big, overgrown, continuous “mess.” It’s an abundantly intertwined and verdant cacophony; a wonderment of complimentary texture and color; and an artistic masterpiece without a single, aesthetic mistake. It’s not created by a fuss bucket. It’s created by a True Artist who knows what organic beauty is all about.

In any creative endeavor, it’s important to connect to your natural playfulness. How it turns out is secondary to the love and care of how it is produced in the moment of creating it. No matter what you create, someone will dislike it. How many people complain about the weather in Florida, and it’s just Florida being Florida, naturally and organically so. Florida’s weather is not everyone’s cup of tea, and neither will anything you create. But as much as people complain about Florida’s weather, I don’t see God changing it on their behalf!

When you eat a good, home-cooked meal, can you taste the love with which it was prepared? When you read a good book, can you detect the conviction and the power behind the message? When you commune with nature, can’t you detect the smile in it, the love, and the joy? When you hear this hymn, can you “see” it grinning back at your ears? Perhaps maybe we should take this into account and be more playful in all that we do, and to leave the heavy, serious “work” to the paramedics and the heart surgeons. Soli Deo Gloria!