The Elevator Pitch — Psalm 8

Introduction

(Show picture of Voyager I’s “Pale Blue Dot”) Voyager I was launched in 1977 as a space probe for interstellar exploration. When it was on the edges of our solar system and approximately four billion miles from earth, astrophysicist Carl Sagan asked them to have Voyager take one final look back at earth. The image that returned was almost entirely black apart from tiny speck of light, a speck so small that it measured only twelve hundredths of a pixel in diameter, and that tiny speck was planet earth.

Sagan, an atheist, labeled the speck a Pale Blue Dot, said this thought struck him as he reflected upon the Pale Blue Dot: (Have quote on podium)“"There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.” That is, every self-important person jockeying for the corner office is but a spec on a spec. On that Pale Blue Dot are the overlooked and those with statues. It contains every success story and every person labeled as a disappointment. It is covered with people who are scrambling for achievement and with people who are just hoping to make it through one more day. All of them mere specs upon a spec in a sea of darkness.

God’s Word

Ironically, Carl Sagan is repeating a question that David had asked 3000 years earlier. Maybe it’s a question that you’ve asked yourself. “When you look at the heavens and the expanse of the cosmos, what is man?” But, David asks it in a way that is different than Carl Sagan. He asks it not as an atheist, but as one who knows God. That is, in David’s mind, the most mind-blowing thought is that out of all that God has made and in light of how expansive it is and how small we are, why does He seem to care so much about us? And, I think this question, this thought, this psalm helps us get to the significance of Advent. In fact, if you aren’t even sure what Advent is, I’m going to use Psalm 8 to sketch to you The Elevator Pitch of Advent (Headline) so that you can see the big picture.

He’s the “greatest God.”

Psalm 8:1–3 “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory above the heavens. Out of the mouth of babies and infants, you have established strength because of your foes, to still the enemy and the avenger. When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,”

Psalm 8 is one of the only psalms addressed completely to God. It begins with the praise of God and ends with the praise of God. Front and center in the mind of David as he writes this song for the church is the incomparable majesty of God, his unmatchable excellence, his manifold glory. His heart has been provoked to worship, and he wants yours to be, too. So, David starts where we would start as we consider his majesty. He starts with immeasurable vastness and awe-inspiring beauty of all that has been made, and He says, “You have set your glory ABOVE the heavens.” The heavens are to David, in one sense, the most glorious sight he’s ever beheld, and yet, they in another sense, are far beneath, unable to measure up to the glory of the one who made them. So, David looks at the most expansive, most out-of-reach, most celestial, breathtaking feature of God’s creation that He can speak of, and comes to the conclusion that God’s glory is “above” it all.

“Transcendence” is majesty “expressed.”

The theological term for what David is describing as he contemplates the above-ness, the out-of-reach-ness, the indescribable-ness of God is transcendence. Transcendence is a word that we use to encapsulate our inability to understand a God beyond our comprehension or to describe a God beyond our descriptors. He’s timeless, undying, and infinite. He’s incomprehensible, incomparable, and inexhaustible. He’s uncontainable, unreachable, and unassailable. He’s awesome and fearsome. He’s eternal and untiring. We could go on, but we just say, God is transcendent. And so, here is David reflecting upon the majesty of all that God has made, and he’s realizing that the art is only revealing the genius and ability of the artist. The expansiveness and beauty of what is serves only to highlight how much more expansive and beautiful their creator must be. He beholds the majesty of all God has made, and recognizes that the transcendence he is beholding is God’s majesty expressed.

(Show pictures of Taj Mahal and its basement) The Taj Mahal may be the most beautiful building in the world. Built in the 1600’s by the emperor Shah Jahan as an expression of love for his deceased wife, it was an incredible feat to build without modern construction abilities, and it’s breathtaking to behold. But, you know, the basement isn’t very impressive. It’s been flooded and is dank and dark the way basements are. Here’s David’s mediation: The basement of God’s glory is the Northern Lights and the sunset over the Caribbean and the constellations that paint the skies. The most glorious, transcendent concepts that we have are beneath him. They show only the edges of his splendor.

“Immanence” is majesty “enjoyed.”

(explain theological categories — define immanence) And, yet, what really captivates David is that this God who is so transcendent, so unreachable, so immeasurable has concerned himself with the smallest details of earth. He’s not just beyond his creation; He’s intricately involved and completely present within his creation. That’s how I understand verse 2. It seems to be on the heels of a great victory for David, a victory that demonstrated God’s “established strength.” It could even possibly be David’s victory over Goliath, when the one everyone said was just a boy — David takes it further with “baby/infant” — was used by God to “still the enemy.”

And, David is overcome. God is unreachable, above the heavens, and yet He comes beneath the heavens. (slow down) So, if transcendence — all that which is beyond us — is God’s majesty expressed, then we can understand God’s immanence — his nearness, his care, his involvement with what and who He has made — as being God’s transcendent majesty experienced and enjoyed. That is, God’s transcendent majesty is, ironically, most clearly displayed by his immanent care and concern. He is a God so great that He is able to work through the least of these for the good of the least of these.

In fact, Paul is summarizing and quoting Psalm 8:2 when he writes 1 Corinthians 1:27 “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.” Other gods need the strongest and the best to do their work, but God can accomplish his work through an infant. He uses weakness to shame the strong, foolishness to shame the wise, humility to overcome the proud. And, it is through this that his people enjoy the glory of his majesty firsthand. He’s willing to use them to slay Goliath. He’s willing to use them to bless the nations. He’s willing to use them to bring hope into their communities. So, even more than the Northern Lights or the Caribbean Sunset or the beauty of the Milky Way, God’s transcendent majesty is put on display in the tiniest, more forgotten, most sin-riddled people on earth. He dwells with them and uses them, and they enjoy him.

A bruised reed God does not break. A smoldering wick God does not extinguish. No, He strengthens them. He enables them. He nurtures them. And, He uses them to paint a picture of his majesty that is more beautiful than the majestic Tetons as the sun sets behind them. God invites you to experience and enjoy his majesty. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”

And, that moves David into the rhetorical question that captures the heart of the Psalm. David slows down to consider that the God is the greatest God, and…

We’re the “smallest creature.”

Psalm 8:3–8 “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor. You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet, all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field, the birds of the heavens, and the fish of the sea, whatever passes along the paths of the seas.”

“Ironic” transcendence.

Yet, He concerns himself with us. “What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” It doesn’t compute. None of the transcendent adjectives can be used to describe us. We are God’s opposite in that regard. He’s infinite; we are small enough to pick up. God is eternal; we are here today and gone tomorrow. (better way to say?) God is the only God, and we are plentiful, numerous, and quickly replaced. God is known in every generation, and our great grandchildren won’t remember our names. Yet, this God who is so great, so mighty is “mindful” of every person from every generation. Our families forget us, but He knows us. He “cares” for us. Well, this is the language of love, isn’t it?

(be slow to clarify condescension in negativity — people are condescending toward others; God condescends himself) David is bringing into his mind the lovingkindness of God for a creature most forgettable, and He’s realizing that this is the irony of God’s transcendence. God has galaxies to run; yet He is “mindful” of what’s on your mind. He’s worried about the threats that you are facing. He “cares” that you are scared. He “cares” that you have enough. He “cares” that you are cared for. That is, God is shown as being the very greatest God who is always condescending to the most lowly places because He cares for the most lowly people. He is not only a God who can be known or wants to be know; He is a God who intends to be known. So, He comes to us. And, the great irony is that his condescension to the lowly places and the lowly people make him the most transcendent among all the gods. All the other gods build a staircase of laws and standards that you must climb in order to get to them. But, the greatest God, having a holiness too transcendent to attain, goes down the stairs himself to get to us because of his own love. And, that shows how far above every other god He is.

A right view of self is one of the most missing and needed truths today, and David shows us. We almost inevitably see ourselves as either more significant or less significant than we are. Some believe themselves as being the lords over their own lives. They seize editorial control over their lives so that they can have and do and become whatever they please. And, they’re an anxious wreck or a crash waiting to happen. Because they’re just people, and they’re not God. Others see themselves as having no significance at all — here today and gone tomorrow, overlooked by everyone they’ve tried to love. So, they try their best to become what others tell them to be so that they can find significance to someone somewhere, but they eventually discover they’re chasing the wind. But, you aren’t God; so, you don’t have the bear the weight of editorial control. You can be content with who you and where you are. And, you aren’t insignificant. So, you see, you don’t have to do all of the things that your boyfriend says that you have to do or be all of the things that the social media influencer says that you have to be or be the mom or dad who raises a well-rounded prodigy to matter. David’s discovery calibrates life: You aren’t God, but God is “mindful” of you and “cares” for you.

Because God has assigned to us in eternity past a…

“Fragile” dignity.

Verses 4-8 are a reflection upon Genesis 1:26-30. Hear the astonishment in David’s voice. Not only is God “mindful” of us and “care” for us, but God has “crowned” us with “glory and honor.” He has given us “dominion” and “put all things under (our) feet.” That is, we are so unlike God, and yet God has created us to bear his image and to portray his majesty within his creation unlike any other creature. In fact, that’s the reason that we ask the question: “What is man?” No other creature asks because no other creature has the kind of self-awareness and self-perception that we do. God has uniquely made us with an awareness and capacity to be able to relate to him and then reflect him wherever we are.

So, if you only read Psalm 8 and this formed your view of mankind, you’d leave with a remarkably high view of mankind. In fact one theologian from long ago summarized the theme of Psalm 8 as being “The greatness of God in the greatness of man.” (Hengstenberg). But, Psalm 8 has a broader context. There’s more to the story. We rule with dominion over the creation, but we usually feel more like slaves, don’t we? When we can’t stop sinning and we want to, when we feel totally out of control of the aspects of our lives that are most important to us, when nothing seems to go right even when we’re doing right, we don’t feel like rulers; we feel like slaves. We have been designed and created with dominion, but we are also under subjection to the curse. We have the image of God in us, but it’s been defaced so that it’s hard to see. We have moral agency and capacity, and yet we have used that to rebel against God. The dignity that God has assigned to us is fragile, and it’s been cracked.

And, the curse upon the world is continually assaulting that dignity so that you will settle for something less than that for which God has made you. The curse want you to believe that you’re just another girl without a good dad. It wants you to believe that you’re fundamental identity is the disadvantages that you were handed. It wants you to believe that you’re nothing more than the achievements you achieve or the failures you’ve endured. It wants you to believe that you are what others think of you. It wants you to think you are nothing more than your sexual appetites or your sexual attractiveness your temper or your baggage. But, everyone of these is an assault on your dignity, an attempt to further crack the beauty of what God has made you to be.

And so, what I want you to see, what I believe to be embedded in David’s song is this: Advent is about the repair. It’s about God’s “mindful(ness)” and “care” for the smallest of creatures so that He might restore our dignity and because He intends to be known. It’s about what has been broken being made whole and what his been destroyed being remade. So, you have the greatest God and the smallest creature, and…

Advent “joins” the “two.”

Hebrews 2:14–18 “Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. For surely it is not angels that he helps, but he helps the offspring of Abraham. Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.”

The greatest God comes (that’s what Advent means) as the smallest creatures for the purpose of restoring our dignity through relationship with him. That would be my 30 second elevator pitch about Christmas.

Can you imagine David as a young shepherd in Bethlehem laying beneath the stars at night? There’s no light pollution. There’s no noise apart from a few bleating sheep. There, in the stillness of those quiet nights, he’s beholding the majesty of God in the stars of the heavens. He’s contemplating how a God so great, so immense, so transcendent could care about a boy in the middle of nowhere laying beneath the stars. And yet, David couldn’t have even conceived of how far God himself would condescend for the “care” of mankind. For under those very same stars in Bethlehem, God’s own son would be born and placed in a manger. The greatest God would become himself the smallest creature, and He would become it so that the tiniest creature, the most forgotten shepherd would never be overlooked.

“Recognize” God’s “care.”

You see, Hebrews says explicitly that Psalm 8 is about Jesus. Psalm 8 is the story of how Almighty God would “care” so deeply for the least of men that He would condescend to a manger so that the infant could shame the strong. He would enter Jerusalem triumphantly on Palm Sunday, but again He would condescend. He’d leave the parade to clear the temple and heal the sick. There the children would pick up the praise: “Hosanna to the Son of David!” The wise old priests tried to hush them, but Jesus piped them down: “Have you not read Psalm 8? Have you never read verse 2? Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise?”

Hebrews 2, after quoting Psalm 8 reflects upon the glory of Jesus. Psalm 8 says that you were meant to have dominion. You were meant to rule as the co-regents of God. But, Hebrews 2 acknowledges reality. God’s image in you, your very dignity has been damaged, defaced, cracked. You are supposed to be a ruler, but instead you’ve been subjected to slavery. And so, Jesus became one of us in every way a human is human. The engineer of the Milky Way condescended to a homeless man on the streets. The digger of oceans would be spat upon by common soldiers. Why? Hebrews 2:18 “For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” He did it because he wanted to provide the “care” for you. He did it because he was “mindful” of you. He did “to help.” (Heb 12 — for the joy set before him)

“Anticipate” God’s “gift.”

And, Psalm 8 is meant to build the kind of anticipation into your heart that Christmas morning builds into the heart of children. As a child, when you’re parents gave a great gift last year, it makes you even more excited about that huge gift with perfect wrapping paper that’s sitting under the tree this year, doesn’t it? That’s how we’re meant to feel about the two advents of Jesus. In the first Advent, Jesus established that God had “put all things under his feet” and the resurrection “crowned him with glory and honor.” But, there’s an even bigger gift on the horizon. Jesus’ second advent is coming, and the thrones that surround him in his glory will be filled by you. Your broken dignity will be restored, and your own dominion will be consummated by him.

God’s own priests didn’t recognize the depth of his “care.” Will you? Will you see the care of God in the coming of Jesus so that your mind is put at ease, your sins are put to death, and your life is put on its purpose? Will you read what David wrote and then behold what Jesus has done? Lift up your voice with David: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”