The Song of the Image of God

Psalm 8 is the first psalm of praise that we encounter in the book of Psalms. The title says, “according to The Gittith,” which could be a musical term or could be a reference to the region of Gath, which was known for its wine. So it’s possible this could have been a vintage song, a harvest hymn. Its placement in the book of Psalms is significant. Psalms 1 and 2 are an introduction to the collection, then psalms 3 through 7 describe King David in various situations of trouble from his enemies. Then you have a matching set of Psalms 9 through 14 that describe David alongside other vulnerable people who are suffering with him. Two sets of suffering psalms, and right in the center, you have Psalm 8, which bursts out in praise: “O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” It’s an exclamation of wonder and joy. The same refrain is repeated at the end, making a little circle of praise that you could keep repeating forever and ever. What’s the reason for this praise? We read in verse 2: “Out of the mouth of babies and infants, you have established strength because of your foes, to still the enemy and the avenger.” That’s an unexpected turn. It reads almost like a riddle. God and his people have enemies (we know this from the previous psalms), so God has established strength (it could also be translated “stronghold” or “fortress”). But how does he make that stronghold? “Out of the mouth of babies and infants.” Out of the desperate cries and weak wimpers of helpless babies, God builds a refuge for those who are in distress. The next verses explain it a little more: “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?” Compared to galaxies and planets, stars and supernovas, human beings are little more than babies crying out, and yet God remembers us. He pays attention to us. He cares for us. He makes us strong when we are weak.

There is no prayer request in this psalm; it is simply a meditation on what it means to be human. As David puts it, “What is man?” The answer is that we are lowly and humble creatures, yet God has given us great dignity. When we gaze at the lights in the heavens above, we feel very small, especially when we realize that they are the works of God’s fingers, the lightbulbs that he set in place. Space staggers the mind, but what is even more astonishing is that the God who made the universe cares about you and me. Theologians like to say that God is transcendent and immanent; he is transcendent, far above and beyond all that we see, and immanent, very near in his care for his creation. David recognizes it in the very first line: “Oh LORD, our Lord.” The God who made atoms and black holes is our God. And although this God made human beings out of dust, he also gave us a place of special significance. Verse 5: “Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor.” David is aware of spiritual beings, but for all their power, angels were not given a crown. That privilege was reserved for humans, who according to Genesis 1 are made in the image of God. We are sub-rulers, little kings and queens given authority by the Creator to use our power and gifts to make this world better. Verse 6: “You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet…” This is what amazes David and causes him to erupt in praise: “God, you have created an incredible world, and you want us – small and weak humans – to be its stewards?” C.S. Lewis once reflected on the coronation of Queen Elizabeth like this: “The pressing of that huge, heavy crown on that small, young head becomes a sort of symbol of the situation of humanity itself: humanity called by God to be His vice-regent and high priest on earth, yet feeling so inadequate. As if He said, ‘In my inexorable love I shall lay upon the dust that you are glories and dangers and responsibilities beyond your understanding.’ Do you see what I mean? One has missed the whole point unless one feels that we have all been crowned and that coronation is somehow, if splendid, a tragic splendor.” We’re not worthy of being made in God’s image; it is all of grace, always grace.

I am amazed by the mastery of language in Psalm 8. No word is wasted. In fact, almost every word in the psalm is taken from the vocabulary of the Torah, the first five books of the Bible. In other words, David wrote it so that it reads like Genesis.  Its tone is both reverent and conversational, which matches the paradoxical themes of majesty and humility. This is the answer to the riddle: the Lord loves reversing our expectations. Human beings are not as powerful as heavenly beings or solar systems, but we are crowned as the rulers of the earth. Ferocious foes are no match for the cries of infants, because when the weak trust in God, he provides a strong refuge. He elevates the powerless so that he can rule the world through them. In light of this surprising reversal, it’s no wonder that David asks, “What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?” One commentator writes, “Out of this whole array, from stars to sea-creatures, only man can look at this scene with the insight to ask such a question, even in doubt; therefore it already points to its answer.” We are not sheep or oxen, birds or fish, moons or stars. We are the image of God. If we truly understand what David is saying, we can hardly believe it. And so, with new insight, we return to the refrain at the beginning and end of the psalm: “O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” At the end of the day, gazing at ourselves leads us to gaze again at the Creator.