I’m going to start today’s message with a task that I think you’re going to enjoy. I want you to bring to mind some of your very favourite things in life, such as…
· A song that lifts your spirits every time you hear it;
· A special place on this planet, breathtaking, lovely, memorable;
· A favourite flavour – something sweet or savoury,
delicate or robust, that overwhelms your senses with joy.
As you sit with those life-lifting
thoughts, consider that each of us has our own unique answers to the questions,
and the variety of answers would only grow if we asked the same questions of
even more people. Each of us have our
own distinct, treasured points of joy that shape our relationship with God, the
creative and loving source of all that is.
And on this World Communion Sunday, we celebrate a whole world filled
with sounds and tastes and vistas, each of us experiencing the glory of God in
our own life’s context, each nation and each faith community and each worshiper
lifting praise to God in a unique way.
If we could somehow bundle
all of those life-lifting experiences together, in this room, in this town,
around the world, we would start to approach the emotional landscape of today’s
scripture reading, the 8th Psalm.
If reading the Book of Psalms from front to back, this is the first Psalm
whose main task is to sing Praise to God, and it has inspired thousands of
years of worship.
This Psalm begins by praising
God and it ends with praising God, so pretty much every Bible commentator I’ve
seen make the same point: if this is your Sunday scripture make sure, preacher,
that you praise God too! In addition to starting and ending with praise, note
that the entire Psalm is spoken TO God, no part of it is just speaking ABOUT
God. That’s quite unusual in the Psalms;
most often, part of the Psalm addresses God, with wonder or gratitude or anger
or regret, and then in other spots the Psalmist is clearly addressing the
people, either recalling an experience with God, or calling on them to respond
in some way. Not in Psalm 8, though; here,
every piece of it is spoken in a Godward direction.
And that’s important to
consider, when we dive into the Psalm’s content. Shauna Hannan, a professor who teaches
preaching at the Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary in Berkeley, California,
proposes that the author of the Psalm used this structure:
A – Doxology (a hymn of
praise to God)
B – God’s
work
C – Who
am I?
B1 –
God’s work
A1 – Doxology
The Psalm begins and ends
with the same exact statement of praise, “O Lord, our Sovereign, how
majestic is your name in all the earth!”
Just after the beginning and
just before the end, God’s work is made evident in the babbling of babies, the
stars in the heavens, the lives of birds and fish and livestock. All these make
up that “chorus of all creation, the song of all living things” we sang about two
Sundays ago.
In the middle of the Psalm, between
those words of praise, are words to be considered with care and caution. Here, the Psalmist asks God a big, somewhat
rhetorical question:
4 what are humans
that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?
(repeat)
4 what are humans that you are mindful of them, mortals that
you care for them?
Indeed, amidst the vastness
of galaxies, how could we humans even expect to be on God’s radar? The Psalmist, anxious to fill the
uncomfortable silence, answers his own question, like so:
5 Yet you have
made them a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honor. 6 You have given them
dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under their feet.
On their own, these words come
off as deeply arrogant, as if the sun and the moon and the stars bow down
before us godlike humans. Admittedly,
there is a degree of human-centeredness here that makes God’s love for ALL
creation a bit hazy. And more dangerously, taken out of context, they seem to
suggest that God has given humankind carte blanche in doing whatever we want with
this planet, using the soil and the trees and every creature for whatever
personal benefit we choose. But that
ignores the whole point of this Psalm: it’s a love song to God.
The key word, “dominion”,
found in the verse 6 of this Psalm and in the legend of creation in the first
chapter of Genesis (vv. 26-31), must not be misunderstood, accidentally or
intentionally. This is not permission to
do whatever we want, relative to the plants and animals entrusted to our care, but
is rather the trust that a loving parent has entrusted in their children to be kind,
respectful and responsible. Robin Wall Kimmerer writes about this in her
wonderful book, Braiding Sweetgrass, as she articulates the unwritten
but broadly understood First Nations rules of the “honourable harvest”: (p.183) “Be accountable as the one who comes asking
for life…. Never take the first. Never take the last. Take only what you need….
Never take more than half. Leave some for others…. Use it respectfully. Never
waste what you have taken. Share…. Sustain the ones who sustain you and the
earth will last forever.” Indeed, we humans
as a species have a choice to make. We can live in harmony with our
surroundings, and steward it in healthy, sustainable ways – and as Robin Wall
Kimmerer details in her book, this kind of stewardship can and does happen - or
we can let carelessness and greed take over, and watch the majesty and
intricacy of the earth and all that dwell therein be crushed to powder. In stating we are just “a little lower than
God” this Psalm insists that we pay attention to the love that God has for the
world, an attentive love of constant renewal, and calls us emulate that.
We are called to be wise stewards, care-takers, those who with sacred intent restore
and reclaim that which has been entrusted to our care, so that God’s holy
harmonies can be heard once more.
In this season of creation,
on this World Communion Sunday which shines a light on our interconnections
with believers everywhere, we pause once more to think of all the things we
brought to mind at the start of this message, things that make life so
extraordinary – the tastes, the sights, the melodies, all that makes our hearts
sing. We bring sober thought to the
fragility of this planet, and our responsibility to care for it, not diminish
it. And we open ourselves to the God who
is not only at the beginning and end of this Psalm, but at the beginning and
end of our lives. To that God, we give
our trust, our love, our thanks and our praise.
Amen.
References cited or consulted:
Duck, Ruth. “It’s a song of
praise to the maker”, More Voices #30, verse 4 © 1992 by GIA Publications,
Chicago IL.
Forsey, Eugene et al. https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/dominion
Hannan, Shauna. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/the-holy-trinity/commentary-on-psalm-8-18
LeMon, Joel. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-27-2/commentary-on-psalm-8-19
Mast, Stan. https://cepreaching.org/commentary/2016-05-16/psalm-8-3/
Purdie, Silvia. https://www.conversations.net.nz/psalm-8-out-of-the-mouths-of-babes.html
Quanstrom, Danny. https://www.aplainaccount.org/post/psalm-8-1
Stott, Joan. http://www.thetimelesspsalms.net/w_resources/pentecost1a_2014.htm
Wall Kimmerer, Robin. Braiding
Sweetgrass. Minneapolis: Milkweed,
2013.
© 2024 Rev Greg Wooley, Osoyoos-Oliver United
Church Pastoral Charge.
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