The Holy Trinity
Preaching
Hear My Voice
Preaching The Lectionary Psalms for Cycles A, B, C
(See also The Holy Trinity, Cycle C, for an alternative approach.)
Psalm 8 is an exuberant hymn of praise to God the Creator. It is, in fact, the only psalm written exclusively in the second person: its prayerful message is directed to the Lord from beginning to end.
There are some confusing textual problems in verses 1 and 2, which have led to a variety of interpretations. Who are the "babes and infants," out of whose mouths something significant flows: either praise, as some translations render it, or -- rather strangely, as others have it -- "a bulwark"? The Hebrew is, unfortunately, obscure, so there may never be a satisfying answer to this conundrum.
Recent advances in computer-enhanced satellite technology have spawned some amazing websites, through which it is possible to view highly detailed photos of the earth taken from space. On some of these sites, it is possible to start with a map of an entire continent, then to zoom in, by successive mouse clicks, to a view of one's own neighborhood. That is the sort of perspective envisioned by the psalmist, millennia before either satellites or computers had even been conceived in the human mind. From the perspective of the vast expanses of heaven, "What are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?" (v. 4).
There is a spirit of humility woven deeply into the stanzas of this elegantly crafted poem. Viewed from a God's-eye perspective, the crises and troubles of this human life of ours -- not to mention its joys -- pale into insignificance. Under the shimmering stars, we see ourselves as we really are.
Yet, wondrously, we humans have been made "a little lower than God." We are "crowned with glory and honor" (v. 5). There is order to this God-created cosmos. Certain parts of the creation are subservient to other parts, and everything is subservient to the Creator. Just below God in the cosmic hierarchy are human beings, acting as God's plenipotentiaries. God has given humanity "dominion" over the other creatures. This whole concept of dominion -- which harkens back to Genesis 1:26 -- is fraught with difficulty, from the standpoint of modern ecological ideals. Indeed, the whole notion of ecology -- which presupposes an interdependent, global system of which human beings are a part, rather than standing over and against it as managers -- is foreign to passages like this one. Human dominion over creation, in the modern sense, means something very different than what it meant to the Hebrew mind.
Perhaps this could be a bridge, on this Trinity Sunday, to a doctrinal discussion of the Trinity. Some of the richest theological understandings of the Trinity have portrayed it as an interdependent system. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are interrelated, and the positive force that binds each person of the Trinity to the others is love. Psalm 8 is overflowing with a joyous love that binds Creator and creation together.
-- C. W.
Psalm 8 is an exuberant hymn of praise to God the Creator. It is, in fact, the only psalm written exclusively in the second person: its prayerful message is directed to the Lord from beginning to end.
There are some confusing textual problems in verses 1 and 2, which have led to a variety of interpretations. Who are the "babes and infants," out of whose mouths something significant flows: either praise, as some translations render it, or -- rather strangely, as others have it -- "a bulwark"? The Hebrew is, unfortunately, obscure, so there may never be a satisfying answer to this conundrum.
Recent advances in computer-enhanced satellite technology have spawned some amazing websites, through which it is possible to view highly detailed photos of the earth taken from space. On some of these sites, it is possible to start with a map of an entire continent, then to zoom in, by successive mouse clicks, to a view of one's own neighborhood. That is the sort of perspective envisioned by the psalmist, millennia before either satellites or computers had even been conceived in the human mind. From the perspective of the vast expanses of heaven, "What are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?" (v. 4).
There is a spirit of humility woven deeply into the stanzas of this elegantly crafted poem. Viewed from a God's-eye perspective, the crises and troubles of this human life of ours -- not to mention its joys -- pale into insignificance. Under the shimmering stars, we see ourselves as we really are.
Yet, wondrously, we humans have been made "a little lower than God." We are "crowned with glory and honor" (v. 5). There is order to this God-created cosmos. Certain parts of the creation are subservient to other parts, and everything is subservient to the Creator. Just below God in the cosmic hierarchy are human beings, acting as God's plenipotentiaries. God has given humanity "dominion" over the other creatures. This whole concept of dominion -- which harkens back to Genesis 1:26 -- is fraught with difficulty, from the standpoint of modern ecological ideals. Indeed, the whole notion of ecology -- which presupposes an interdependent, global system of which human beings are a part, rather than standing over and against it as managers -- is foreign to passages like this one. Human dominion over creation, in the modern sense, means something very different than what it meant to the Hebrew mind.
Perhaps this could be a bridge, on this Trinity Sunday, to a doctrinal discussion of the Trinity. Some of the richest theological understandings of the Trinity have portrayed it as an interdependent system. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are interrelated, and the positive force that binds each person of the Trinity to the others is love. Psalm 8 is overflowing with a joyous love that binds Creator and creation together.
-- C. W.
