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Printer Friendly Version“O Lord our Sovereign. How majestic is your name in all
the earth.” (v. 1). This psalm places in our minds the vision of God
as this king, majestic and sovereign, who rules the earth. Have you ever wondered
about the majesty of God? Have you ever considered the sovereignty of God?
As I read this psalm and remember my childhood, it occurs to
me that my parents taught me about the majesty and sovereignty of God in the
most interesting ways. Every summer, my parents would load us up in a slide-in
pickup camper, and head west for vacation. We would be gone about two weeks.
It also occurs to me that was in the days before gas was $2.50 a gallon. Maybe
we should take that trip this morning, because it might be a long time before
some of us can take one like it. We would leave the rolling hills of Iowa
and head west through Nebraska. I’ll have to admit, that part didn’t
teach me so much about the sovereignty and majesty of God, except maybe that
God was able to create the largest flattest piece of ground I’ve ever
seen. During that part of the trip, my sister and I would lie up on the cab
over part of the camper and look out the window, counting yellow lines as
they went under the pickup. It went on for hour after hour. I’m not
sure about this but I think “Nebraska” might mean “parking
lot” in Navaho. Apologies if you are from western Nebraska. Iowa, where
I grew up takes its share of jokes. Turnabout is fair play. Who knows? Maybe
if God was going to build a parking lot, that’s how he’d have
it.
Once we got through Nebraska, the terrain would change dramatically.
One year, we went to Colorado. With the hard rock of Pike’s Peak under
my feet, I worked to catch my breath, as I massaged my temples and worked
my jaw to get rid of my popping ears and my headache. Only part of that was
my body’s reaction to the altitude, the rest was my mind’s reaction
to the magnitude of the scene before me. I could remember the 90 degree weather
at the base and could see the snow on the surrounding peaks. I even touched
some of it. There were sheer drops and gorgeous rock formations. Standing
there, I don’t think I ever questioned God’s majesty or His sovereignty.
If God was going to create a lookout, this is the way God would have it.
One year we went to Yellowstone and visited the lower falls.
I stood there on an overlook that seemed to dangle above the roar, and watched
hundreds of thousands of gallons of water fall over 300 feet to the canyon
below. Standing there before that gorgeous scene of grace and power, with
the roar and all that wonder, I had no trouble picturing the majesty and sovereignty
of God. If God was going to make a fountain, that’s the way God would
have it.
At the other end of the spectrum, one year we went to Carlsbad,
New Mexico. There we toured the caverns. There was one underground room that
could hold the surface area of six football fields. Standing there below the
earth, looking up at the formations that reached several stories into the
air and the beautiful colors painted on the walls by the trickle of water
over centuries of time, I just couldn’t question the majesty and sovereignty
of God. If God were building a shelter, that’s the way God would have
it.
On one of those trips we went to Montana. While we were up there
we went to Glacier National Park. Before each of those trips, mom would do
a little research and learn what the area was famous for, and we would look
forward to seeing that. When we went to Montana, mom told us that it was called
“big-sky country.” Being twelve and having had some science classes
(and therefore knowing everything), I asked myself: “If Montana is a
part of earth, and the sky is the atmosphere, how can the sky be any bigger
there than it is in Iowa?” Then, one afternoon on that trip, my parents
woke me up from one of my many naps in the camper. We were at a rest stop.
I walked out and asked: “Where are we?” They said, “We are
in Montana.” Immediately I looked up . . . and I was a convert. The
sky just seemed to stretch out forever and the clouds seemed to reach right
down as if to touch me. I stood there rubbing sleep from my eyes, and looking
up while I stretched my cooped-up legs, I had no trouble picturing the majesty
and the sovereignty of God. If God were going to build a chapel, with a beautiful
ceiling, it would look like that. That’s they way God would have it.
It’s never in those kinds of places that one doubts the majesty and
sovereignty of God.
There are other places, however. I learned to swim in a pond
in southwest Iowa. It was a farm pond called Crystal Lake. We would park our
car and walk about quarter of a mile to the pond. It had a sand-and-dirt bottom
with a gentle slope, so it was perfect for learning. When I was in the second,
third and fourth grades, we would go out there in the evening, hold our breath
and dog paddle. I remember the last few times I went out there. We swam a
little, but we were so scared we didn’t really enjoy it. There were
broken glass bottles, beer and soda cans all over the place. The pond had
been “discovered,” and it was just far enough off the beaten path
to be convenient as a party place. I don’t remember being in awe of
anything as we walked away from that place the last time. As I think back
on it, the name Crystal Lake seems a bit ironic. I don’t think I had
one thought about God’s majesty at that point. I just wondered why people
would wreck a perfectly good swimming hole. What, I wonder, is God’s
sovereignty? How could God let people do that to His creation? Surely that
wasn’t the way God would have it?
I have a friend in another city. He is a deeply Christian man.
He is one of the most generous people I know. He volunteers his time and gives
willingly. He loves everyone he knows and has done me more favors than a lifetime
could repay. He has, or at least used to have, one deeply confusing behavior.
After stopping at 7-Eleven and finishing his Coke, he opens the window, while
driving down the road, and throws the cup out. I have to say, the times I’ve
followed him or ridden with him, I’ve never been overwhelmed by the
majesty of God. I’ve just always been puzzled by this behavior. As I
think about it now, I wonder a little about God’s sovereignty. This
man believes in God; in fact, this man believes that he is sold out to God
and totally obedient to the Creator. Why doesn’t God require him to
care a little more for the land around him when he drives? Surely this isn’t
the way God would have it? Why doesn’t he make this man care for the
earth?
Well, the passage we just read does say, “You have given
them dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under
their feet.” We sometimes have the idea that God wants control of everything.
The truth is that phrase never appears in the Bible. We have some artists
in our midst. If you look at the bulletin boards in the halls, you know that
Charles Walkingstick has been decorated as an accomplished artist. He’s
also a father. (Walk to the easel.) I want you to imagine Charles spending
hour upon hour meticulously painting this nature scene of the southwest; colors
blended just so; texture perfect; expression just right. And then he gives
this creation to his children. They graciously receive his gift of his creativity.
I don’t know his children, and am sure this would never happen, but
just imagine they take it, thank him and then lay it on the ground outside
their front door as a welcome mat to wipe their feet on as they come and go.
(take picture and put it on the floor by platform door, pretended to wipe
feet on it). Yes, he gave it to them. They own it, but that’s not what
their father had in mind when he painstakingly created this masterpiece. That’s
not the way Charles would have it. I’m sure Charles’ family would
never do that; but what about the family of God? When the psalm says creation
was put under our feet, does it mean that we are free to trample it into oblivion?
When God put creation under our feet, it was a distinct possibility that we
would. But He did it anyway. Sure, creation affirms God’s majesty, but
how does what we do with it speak for His sovereignty?
There was another time I had no doubt of the majesty or sovereignty
of God. Almost six years ago, I stood in a delivery room and watched as this
silent dream we’d been thinking about, talking to and planning for emerged
into the world. I counted fingers and toes and guessed at eye color. But something
happened before all that. Something I didn’t quite understand at the
time. When she was born, the doctor held her upside down and I think they
patted her feet. She took a big breath and let out one of the most beautiful
sounds in all the world.
When I first experienced it, I didn’t know how to interpret
it. I knew it was beautiful but didn’t know what it meant. As I was
studying this passage this week, I think I learned the language of that first
scream. It says here, “Out of the mouths of babes and infants you have
founded a bulwark.” Here is a good translation for what that little
mouth was saying. “O Lord our sovereign, how majestic is your name in
all the earth.” Thinking back on that time, I don’t have any questions
about the majesty and sovereignty of God. If God was going to create a herald
for his praise, that is the way he would have her.
But then the craziest thing in the world happened. A wily nurse
thought it would be good for daddy to give her the first bath. That way he’d
be able to do it in the future with some confidence. She must have sensed
my innate ability to avoid scary stuff. She put that baby in my hands and
told me what to do with water, soap and so on. Of everything I’d ever
seen in creation, this was the most magnificent. This was His masterpiece
and God put it in our hands. I didn’t question God’s majesty at
all at that point. Just His judgment--what was God thinking entrusting this
work of art to me, not just for a 2 minute bath but for 18 years of life?
All those thoughts come back again when I hear stories of parents
who shirk their responsibilities to their kids, see the billboards or the
news stories about little Kelsey Briggs (Oklahoma City child who died from
abuse), or hear of any other little one who’s been abused. And then
I think about the countless hundreds who’ve never gotten to take a breath.
God in His majesty creates, and adults abort, neglect and abuse them. And
when there is a problem, the government steps in to care for the kids. While
those agencies are full of foster parents and social workers who care, the
news media is telling us that the sheer bureaucracy of it all has actually
lost some kids. I don’t question the majesty of God. But when I have
to tell my 3-year-old that “stupid” isn’t a word that she
should use, and that daddy shouldn’t have used it just now either, I’m
tempted to question His judgment and to wonder about His sovereignty. What
was God thinking entrusting them to us?
The psalmist asks it this way: “What are human beings
that you are mindful of them? Yet you have made them a little lower than the
angels and crowned them with glory and honor and have given them dominion.”
The sovereign God whose name is majestic in all the earth has chosen to place
the earth under our authority. Sheep, oxen, beasts of the field, birds of
the air, fish and infants. From bluebirds to babies, the sovereign God gives
us dominion, responsibility and authority over it all.
It’s amazing what we do with authority, when we get it.
The media and political systems of this world want us to choose between the
two things I’ve been talking about. One side of the aisle is intensely
interested in our care for the environment, but wants to make sure that we
can legally silence those little voices before they scream God’s majesty.
On the other side of the aisle, is a system of thought that
would never interrupt God’s creation of a human life, but could really
care less about the rest of creation as long as we humans have enough fuel
and space. It is as though modern political culture has forced us to choose.
Do we see the majesty and sovereignty of God only in mountains and waterfalls,
or do we hear the majesty and sovereignty of God only in this human creation?
When you see that we are required by the political bosses who set platforms
to make that choice, do you just want to ask a question, “Who is sovereign
here in this world anyway?”
When God put humans in charge of creation was that because He
just didn’t care that much for it anyway, so if we treat it or each
other like a doormat, it just won’t matter? We were crowned with honor
and given power in creation to rule, only we didn’t know what to do
with it? Now we destroy creation, each other and are destroyed by creation
in disasters. Has God left the whole thing to us, and stood back to see what
we will do with it? Is the dominion that God gives us just about getting and
exercising our power?
Well, not exactly. Those words, “He made them a little
lower than the angels,” are not the last time that is mentioned in scripture.
Hebrews chapter 2 quotes this psalm, “What are human beings that you
are mindful of them, or mortals that you care for them? You have made them
for a while a little lower than the angels; you have crowned them with glory
subjecting all things under their feet” (v. 6). Then it says, “As
it is, we do not yet see everything in subjection to them. But we do see Jesus
who was for a while made a little lower than the angels” (vv. 8-9).
I’m struck by how Jesus related to creation. It seemed
He was fond of pointing it out to his disciples. He wanted them to consider
the soil when wondering how to receive His word. In some teaching He was doing
on a mountain, He told His followers to consider the lilies of the field and
the splendor with which God clothed them, and the birds of the air which God
fed. He said that not a single sparrow falls to the ground that our Father
in heaven does not know about it. When the disciples were arguing about which
one of them was the greatest and would have more authority, Jesus showed them
a little child and said, “Whoever welcomes one of these welcomes me,
and whoever welcomes me welcomes him who sent me” (Mark 9:37 NRSV).
Have you thought about how Jesus used His authority? As far
as dominion, He commanded the winds and the sea to be still. In John He said,
“The words I say to you I do not say on my own; but the Father who dwells
in me does his works” (14:10, NRSV). Hebrews 1 says, “He is the
reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very
being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word” (v. 3, NRSV).
Colossians 1 says, “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn
of all creation” (v. 15). In Psalm 8 we are lifted up to the place of
human and sovereign. In Hebrews Jesus comes down to that same status. If God
was going to start over with a giant redo of humanity, Jesus is the way God
would have us.
Sure, we know we need to be careful about how we nurture and
care for children, we want them to get to heaven some day. But what is all
this about how we treat creation? Isn’t that just some kind of political
mumbo jumbo? I mean, this world is passing away, right?” Well in one
sense, that is right. The world, meaning the evil systems of power-grabbing
injustice; those are going to be no more. But as far as creation is concerned,
the end-times prophesies of Isaiah about the peaceable kingdom suggest something
else. You may know the words. “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the
leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling
together, and a little child shall lead them” (11:6, NRSV).
One of the first passages anyone ever memorizes says, “For
God so loved the world that he gave his only Son . . . God did not send the
Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might
be saved through him” (John 3:16-17, NRSV). Jesus, the Son of God, came
to call us brothers and sisters, and to usher in a whole new humanity that
would represent God’s free and gracious reign and rule on this earth.
It’s about time we started to live up to that vision. Romans 8:9 says,
“Creation eagerly awaits the revealing of the children of God”
(NRSV). Folks, God sent Jesus because he loved the world.
The psalmist begins by saying, “O Lord our sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth.” Standing on top of a mountain, or near the roar of waterfalls, or around the table in a delivery room; very few people miss the majesty in those moments. In the middle of this psalm, God the King takes His sovereignty and places it on us like a crown. In one of those high and honorable ceremonies, where a king gives authority to a prince or princess, God places it on us like a crown. He does it again later by sending Jesus who honors our race by spending some time a little lower than the angels. The psalmist repeats it at the end of the psalm. “O Lord our sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth.” But the way he chooses to exercise his sovereignty is by the free obedience of his children as we learn from Christ, our older brother, how to take care of each other and all of creation. That’s the way our majestic, sovereign God would have it.