May 18, 2008
| Pentecost 2, 2008 | Psalm 8 |
(The congregation was asked to read aloud the verses in bold, as the sermon progressed. The Psalm was woven into the sermon)
1. Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!
This Psalm is not addressed “to whom it may concern.” It is a prayer to Our Lord. We are on speaking terms. We are allowed to use God’s name! And what a name, above all others! God’s name reveals God’s character— Merciful and mighty, perfect in power, in love and purity. And we are not strangers. God has chosen to tell us that Name which is above every name. We are given access. We are in a relationship with the great Creator, through whom all things were made. Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your Name in all the earth!
2. You whose glory is chanted above the heavens, out of the mouths of infants and children; you have set up a fortress against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.
Hold on, this verse starts high, and drops fast, like a rollercoaster at Valley Fair. It starts with praise above the heavens, and then ZOOM you’re down to earth. In an instant the Psalm drops from the Milky Way to the Milky Mouth—I mean the mouth of a baby. God’s glory is being chanted above the heavens, and that very same song also comes from the mouths of infants and children. And that song defends us against God’s enemies, and silences God’s foes. Who are those enemies? Who is the avenger? The Psalm doesn’t name them. Maybe we are better off not knowing evil by name. But maybe the foe and the avenger are the forces of chaos, the powers of destruction, that ravage God’s world. Like the killer earthquake in China, and the savage storm in Burma. Or like the wars that smolder, hiss and burst into flame. Such fury! And so vast is the suffering, we hardly dare ask what God has to do with it all. But maybe all this chaos is God’s enemy too, the avenger that tries to undo creation. Well, now you have to wonder: what good are the songs of children against such fury? But there it is, the Psalm says: out of the mouths of babes and children, God sets up a fortress and silences his enemies. When children praise God their songs bring us a sound of heaven, where all is peace. That song is our fortress, our defense.
Friends, does that make you feel safe? Or would we rather have a cement bunker and a stockpile of food and water? The Psalm says that God builds a fortress with the praise chanted by children. What a strange defense system. But it fits, God chooses the weak to oppose the mighty. This is the God who defeated death by dying. This has God’s name written all over it, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The Lord, OUR Lord, who made heaven and earth, uses strange building materials. Our songs, our praises and our laments. Such is the character of God. When children (even grown up children) sing, we bear witness: that though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
3 and 4. When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars you have set in their courses, what are mere mortals that you should be mindful of them, human beings that you should care for them?
Imagine God, like some master jeweler, opening a secret vault, and selecting, by hand, the moon and stars. Fingering each diamond, carefully inspecting each emerald and pearl. These hand-picked gems God arranges into constellations. God suspends them in velvet night. And the whole display is back-lit by distant galaxies, which God also made. We confess, “I believe in God the Father, Creator of Heaven and Earth.” Well and good, but the question remains: so who are WE, that God should care for us? The answer is not obvious. So many people look up at the stars, billions of light years away, and conclude that human beings are insignificant. Even if God did create all this, does it follow that God cares about us, much less knows us by name? It gets even tougher when you look at the calamities that wipe out thousands of lives at one time.
Who are WE, that God should care for us? You could answer the Psalmists’ question by saying, God does not care. All our great cities are just ant hills, with droves of workers commuting in and out, carrying their crumbs, their laptops, whatever. Everything we build, and buy, and carry home, can all be swept away by one stroke of a broom. Human beings are the strangest creatures—creative and powerful, yet weak and vulnerable. Looking up at the night sky, or at our Twin Cities or any city, does not necessarily evoke faith in God. It can lead to a sense that we are alone, and that nothing we do really matters. So the question is on the table: “what are human beings that God should care for us?” And faith’s answer comes in the next verse.
5. Yet you have made them little less than divine; with glory and honor you crown them.
What are human beings? We are God’s partners. We are little less than God, crowned with glory and honor. God has made us partners in the Big Firm. Our names on the door of the executive suite, the corner office. Our names, right there under God’s. Some of you might be thinking, “Theology of glory.” And others may be wondering if we should strut out stuff like that. After all, this is Minnesota. Around here, self-depreciation as an art form. What a relief, some translations read that we “a little lower than the angels.” That’s a little easier to house, especially if you are skeptical about angels. What can I say, friends, I did not write this Psalm. Just look what it says. God has made us little less than divine. God has made us partners. Junior partners, yes. But still trusted partners in caring for this world.
Notice that ‘sharing power’ has God’s name all over it. It happens in the creation story, when God puts people in charge of the plants and the animals. God lets us use them for food and enjoy their beauty. People even get to name the animals! How fun is that? Yes God makes us partners. God gives us a share of divine glory. And what a big risk for God to take. Does God ever ask “what was I thinking?” We so often fail to share God’s glory, though it is freely given.
As for glory, is a strange thing. It is both joy and suffering. Just ask any mother or father. Glory, if it is God’s glory, means dying and rising daily. So when chaos breaks out on earth—even when all hell breaks loose, sharing God’s glory means wailing and lamenting. Sharing God’s glory means rescuing, healing, feeding and housing the people. God’s rule means rejoicing in every life saved, and mourning every life lost. That is the glory of God, both joy and sorrow. It’s a package deal.
Now let’s read aloud verses 6 – 8. You have made them rule over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet: all flocks and cattle, even the wild beasts of the field, the birds of the air, the fish of the sea, and whatever passes along the paths of the sea. I guess that about covers it.
Some of you are experts at management, so you know the rule: “Delegate, delegate, delegate.” This is what God does. Jesus does it the Gospel: No sooner does he say, “all authority is given to me,” than he says, “go therefore and preach the Gospel.” To delegate is NOT to abdicate. Because Jesus promises: “Lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age.” This is true in spreading the Gospel, and it is true in caring for creation. God delegates, but God does not abdicate.
God shares power, yet God stays with us. In this partnership, we are blessed, and we are accountable. And let’s not forget, the creation itself is very much alive. When we abuse nature, sometimes it grows back, and sometimes it bites back. We are given dominion. But if we abuse that power, dominion morphs into domination. Some people have more than enough, while many more are starving. There have been food riots around the world, and people hoarding rice, and stealing the food sent to help victims of disasters.
In these times, we must ask ourselves: What is more important, filling empty gas tanks, or filling empty bellies? What in God’s name are we to do?
God has delegated the care of the earth to human beings. God has taken a risk, trusting us. We are a little lower than God, but not God. Listen for that theme when the choir sings the anthem. “Up on the mountain, when my Lord spoke, out of his mouth came fire and smoke. I looked all around me, and it looked so fine, till I asked my Lord, if all were mine.” That song points us in the right direction. It says, “Every time I feel the Spirit, moving in my heart, I will pray.” Prayers and songs of faith, remind us that God indeed cares for us, and trusts us with this world. Prayers and songs, yes even songs of children, keep us working with God, for a world of peace and plenty. We close by praying the last verse of the Psalm together.
Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!