A reflection on Psalm 8
What, I wonder, would David think if he knew what we know now about the universe? I too grew up considering the heavens, and I could see so much more of them then. It is hard to see the stars and the blackness of the sky behind them in Portland. Our nearest neighbors are far away from our corner of the valley and the stars are overwhelming when I return there after having been gone for some time. They explode. They dazzle. If the moon is full and low on the horizon it couldn’t possibly get any bigger.
I have seen documentaries of course, and sermons even, showing the far-flung wonders of the universe. Nebulas and galaxies and black holes and stars that dwarf the stars that dwarf the stars that dwarf our sun. I still prefer the fresh air and the heavy sky of my home, to seeing those wonders on a screen though. It somehow ties it all together, to have the dirt road underfoot, and the frogs in the pond, and lonely, homey light of the house on the hill. It is a good place.
There is so much that is good about life there, with the dirt and the trees and the rivers and the mountains and the family. Life with good, creative work. Helping plants grow and bear fruit. Good, strong relationships with people. It is about more than saving their “souls.” Indeed, God will save the whole thing. I can’t very well imagine what it will be like to share the rule of that new earth, and to gaze at the new heavens, when all is made right. So I will say Maranatha rather than that I desire to depart and be with Christ.
You have made us. You love us. You even made all these wonders for us to rule over. With you! Adam did not do such a good job of ruling things. The second Adam came to rescue us from the mess.
YHWH, my Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!