Psalms 8:4

Psalms 8:4

I. The thought which lies behind this text is of far deeper intensity now than when it was first uttered by the awe-stricken Psalmist. The author of this eighth Psalm could have had but a faint conception of the scale of creation compared with that at which we are now arriving. What is man in presence of the overwhelming display of creative power?

II. But there is another consideration which helps to impress the thought of our insignificance. We cannot but speculate as to the ends which this infinitely vast creation may be serving; and then of what account do human pretensions appear? What becomes of man's interests, his creation, his redemption, if these innumerable worlds are peopled by beings who wait, as he does, upon God? And yet, strange to say, our very doubts and misgivings may themselves serve to reassure us; for is not the capacity to reflect upon our position and to speculate about our destiny a witness to our greatness? It has been truly said that the very discoveries of astronomy, which unfold to us the vastness of the material creation, reveal at the same time the majesty of man. The discoverer is above his discovery at every step of the process.

III. What then is the right effect upon our hearts of this discovery of God's limitless working, His immeasurable condescension? It is to do away with our fear; it is to tell us that there is nothing incredible or preposterous in the thought that He visits us, and expends even upon us all the riches of His care and love. The heavens declare His glory, and proclaim it to be infinite. Why may not the Gospel be a similar declaration of His highest attribute, a witness borne to the universe that His mercy is infinite also?

IV. If man is a being so precious, so unique in his origin and destiny, if God has bestowed such manner of love upon him as Christ bids us believe, then what an appeal is made to him to live up to his unspeakable dignity! "It is the highest effort of his culture," says St. Bernard, "when a man comes to care for himself for the sake of his God;" when, that is, his sovereign desire is to be worthier of the rank with which God has invested him and of the love which God has lavished upon him.

R. Duckworth, Christian World Pulpit,vol. xxviii., p. 193.

How are we to verify the hope that it is possible for man to have access to God's presence? St. Paul declares that ever since the creation of the world the invisible things of God, even His power and Godhead, have been revealed in the material universe. But the influence on religious faith and hope of what we call "nature" varies with different men. There are some aspects of nature which sometimes make it difficult to believe that there can be any real communion between the Creator and ourselves. The vastness, the grandeur, of the material universe sometimes oppress us; we are crushed by the sense of our insignificance. What is man that God is mindful of him, and what is man that God should visit him? Our humiliation is deepened by the discovery that our own life is akin to the inferior forms of life around us, akin to forms of life which look at first sight most remote from us. What right have I to separate myself from the creatures to which I am so closely related? What right have I to claim any special remembrance from God? This is the gospel of science; is it true, or is it false? What are the pleas which are urged against our faith?

I. The whole world, we are told, is a mere speck in the universe, and it is said to be incredible that God should have any special care for it or for those that inhabit it. There is a certain intellectual and moral vulgarity in attaching such importance to mere material magnitude. A few square inches of canvas show sometimes a more costly work than a picture which would cover the side of a house. The world is very small, but what of that if it is big enough to hold the children of God?

II. The second plea is that the life of man is too brief and momentary compared with the ages during which the universe has existed. No doubt, but science itself contains the reply to this argument. Let the doctrine of evolution, on its purely scientific side, be true, instead of being overawed and humbled by the long succession of ages which have preceded me, I find in them new testimony to the greatness of my nature and the possible dignity of my position. I myself am the consummate result and the ripe fruit of these immense and awful ages.

III. The third plea is that we are encompassed by laws which take no heed of the personal differences of men, of the varieties of their character, or of the vicissitudes of their condition. You tell me of law, but there is another law, even the law of my moral nature. While you have demonstrated that the whole universe is subjected to the authority of natural law, for me there is reserved an inviolable liberty. Separate from nature, I may be akin to God. It is possible, after all, that God may be mindful of me, and that God may visit me. But let us not forget that God is near, and yet He may surround Himself with clouds and thick darkness and may be altogether hidden from us. It is not enough that we draw nigh to God; God Himself must draw nigh to us. If the brightness of His presence shines upon us, that brightness does not come like the splendours of the rising sun, but as the effect of His own voluntary revelation of His glory.

R. W. Dale, Penny Pulpit,Nos. 992, 993.

References: Psalms 8:4. Homiletic Magazine,vol. vii., p. 193; W. Lindsay Alexander, Christian Thought and Work,p. 123; Congregationalist,vol. x., p. 500; J. Baldwin Brown, The Higher Life,pp. 1, 387; H. P. Liddon, Old Testament Outlines,p. 101.