Praise Him, All Creatures Here Below
The Story of Thomas Ken's Doxology

A doxology is a short chorus of praise to the Lord, often sung as a standalone piece or as a coda at the conclusion of psalms, hymns, or canticles. The word comes from the Greek doxa, meaning, “appearance” or “glory,” and logia, meaning, “study” or “declaration.” A doxology is thus a declaration of the glory of the Most High God; it is a joyous sung pronouncement of His praise.

Common doxologies include the Gloria in Excelsis Deo and the Gloria Patri. But of course, the most common of all is taken from Psalm 100 and sung to the tune of the Genevan Psalter’s “Old Hundredth.”

Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host:
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

This treasured doxology is sung every Sunday all around the globe in untold dozens of languages. It was composed by Thomas Ken, a fellow of Winchester College, a prebend of Winchester Cathedral, and later, the Bishop of Bath and Wells during the reigns of Charles II and James II.

Ken was tragically orphaned in childhood. So, his older sister, Ann, and her husband, Izaak Walton, brought him into their home raised him as their own. Walton was himself orphaned as a boy — his father died when he was just three, and he lost his mother when he was nine. Thanks to the beneficence of some distant relatives, he was able to train as a linen draper in the iron-mongers guild. Eventually, he set up a small shop in the busy neighborhood of Fleet Street near Chancery Lane in the London parish of St. Dunstan’s. It was there that he volunteered as a churchwarden and developed an enduring friendship with the pastor, John Donne — who of course would later gain renown as the dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral.

In spite of the fact that he had only a few years of formal schooling, Walton read extensively in the classics and had an insatiable appetite to grow and learn. He also had an abiding love for the beauty and wonder of creation — and in particular, the comforts and delights of fishing in the still-unspoiled rivers and streams outside of London.

Walton was heralded as a man of letters following the publication in 1653 of his classic work, The Compleat Angler. The book is a discourse on all aspects of fishing —interspersed with verses, songs, dialogue, historical discourses, epigrams, and glimpses of pastoral life. Walton also wrote short biographies of several men in his wide circle of fishing buddies, as well as his most beloved pastors, theologians, and poets, including John Donne, Richard Hooker, and George Herbert.

It was into Walton’s family that Thomas Ken was adopted as a boy — and it was into Walton’s richly adorned world of words and ideas, of piety and poetry, of friendship and fishing, of service and celebration, of beauty, goodness, and truth that he was immersed. It is not at all surprising then that Ken would grow up to be a fine writer himself — as well as a devout clergyman, a gifted musician, and an esteemed academic. His bountiful inheritance of kindness prompted him to thankfulness and praise.

Sponsored by Walton, Ken gained admittance to Winchester College, and later, to Hart Hall and New College in Oxford. He served as a university tutor prior to his ordination in 1662. He then pastored several parish churches in Essex, Hampshire, and the Isle of Wight before returning to Winchester as a prebend of the cathedral, a chaplain to the bishop, and a fellow of the college.

In 1674, Ken published A Manual of Prayers for the Use of the Scholars of Winchester College. In it, he gave instructions for the devotional use of a series of his new compositions of Morning and Evening Hymns, including “Awake, My Soul, and with the Sun” and “Glory to Thee, My God, this Night.” What we now commonly sing as the “Doxology,” was actually the closing stanza of each of these long hymn sequences.

Interestingly, according to a long-held tradition, Ken may have first learned the text and the old Genevan tune setting from his adoptive father, Izaak Walton, while the two of them were fly-fishing together in the rivers and streams of Staffordshire.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host:
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Can you picture the scene? A father and his adopted son exulting in praise to God amidst the glories of creation — singing a doxology so beautiful, so incisive, so enduring that it is no longer just a part of their story, but now, it is also a part of ours. Quite apt, don’t you think?