Psalm 8
October 6
David A. Davis
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“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” It’s one of the verses from the psalmist that ought to stick with you. Like “Bless the Lord, O my soul and all that is within bless God’s holy name” and “Be still and know that I am God” and “Hope in God, for I shall again praise God, my help and my God” and “I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where does my help come My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth!”
“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” Ingrid Ladendorf, our Director of Children and Youth Choirs and Director of Children and Family Ministries was helping to lead worship at a recent staff gathering. Ingrid offered a children’s setting of Psalm 8. We read in unison and broke up the psalm like this: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (WOW!) “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you mindful of them, mortals that you care for them” (WOW!) “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (WOW!)
This first verse from Psalm 8 is also the last. It’s not quite a refrain but is the psalm’s first and last word. It frames the psalmist’s word. It’s the takeaway from the poetry. It sets the tone for the psalm’s guts, which comes in between. It shapes how the psalm will be read like an old adage about preaching. “Tell them what you are going to tell them. Then tell them. Then tell again and sit down.” “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” You can’t miss the praise even though the word isn’t there. No “praise the Lord” in Psalm 8 but it is a song of praise nonetheless.
It is the kind of song of praise that comes from the children and we sing it our whole life long. “Out of the mouths of babes and infants”, the psalmist writes. From the lips of the youngest, O God, you formed this foundation. You have established this stronghold of praise, this bulwark within your people that shouts our praise to you and lifts our adoration before you. It is a perpetual stream, words and songs and worship in all places and in all circumstances and at all times. A continuous loop of praise intended to drown out all other voices, intended to silence every voice in us but your own. Even the voice of death will be squelched by our bold song of praise, O God of resurrection life. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”
When I plan a memorial service with a family or plan a wedding with a couple, one of the regular topics of conversation is whether or not to sing a few hymns during the service. I have learned to ask about whether the expected congregation would be familiar with a hymn or would be a singing crowd. That’s because of all the times I stand up here before a community gathered for the occasion and I am the only one singing. I always find it interesting and a bit disconcerting when attendees dutifully stand during a hymn, don’t open the hymnbook, and just look forward; just stare at me. I understand that folks might be from a different religious faith or from a tradition that doesn’t sing hymns. But when politely standing and not participating people just look at me. Sometimes it feels like they are glaring at me. “Can’t you just read along or look at the windows or scan the room? Are you mad at me because of this hymn?” Honestly, I would like to share with them that this is what we do in this place. This is who we are. We are a people built and called together to praise God in joy and sorrow.
This last week I was with my peer group of pastors that I often tell you about. 25 Presbyterian pastors from all around the country. We were at the Mercer Island Presbyterian Church in Seattle. But we were a smaller group this time because our friends and colleagues from Asheville and Black Mountain NC and Spartanburg SC were not able to come because of the hurricane. We were able to talk to two of them by phone and pray for them. The other pastor still had no cell service. What they described to us was more heartbreaking than the videos and pictures we have all seen. How they had no way to check on the members of the congregation. How the Black Mountain Church gave water and food to 1,000 people on Monday. How they were told it might be 6 months before water is restored. Patrick, the pastor of First Church Asheville told us the church had power but no water. They were keeping it open for the community to come and charge devices or use the wifi. As our in-person group listened on a beautiful sunny day in Seattle, most of us were in tears. And then Patrick said, “We will gather for worship on Sunday morning for whoever can get here.” Then everyone in the room was in tears.
We don’t often think about it like this but maybe more often than not the worship of God by the people of God is a subversive act in the world in which we live. The Psalm reading for this morning in the Revised Common Lectionary is Psalm 8. That means congregations of all denominations all over the southeast (those that can gather or still have their building) will be reading Psalm 8 together. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” Most will celebrate World Communion Sunday. The joyful feast of the people of God.” The children of God and the daring, subversive, counter-intuitive steady drumbeat of praise even when the world is washing away. Even when humanity’s care for the earth, the dominion entrusted by God has been abused. Even amid devastation and loss. Even when pondering the world near and far invokes a weariness deep within. Whether standing here for a child’s confirmation or here for a baby’s baptism or here to make solemn vows to one another, or sitting there for the service of a loved one now in glory, or gathered here for a “joyful feast of the people of God”. Or when two congregations gather to both celebrate and lament a history on race that is more complex than can be imagined, or when you are sitting out there on an ordinary Sunday joining in a hymn of praise when you weren’t sure you could bring yourself to sing after a rough week, or when you find yourself unspeakably grateful as three generations of your family share a pew. A steady drumbeat of praise. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”
As I looked at the pictures coming out of the Montreat Presbyterian Conference Center where the Nassau Youth group went for the summer youth conference for several years, I thought of folks I know who live or lived there. David and Nancy Mulford lived there in retirement before moving here to Stonebridge to be closer to family. Marti and Peter Hazelrigg who were on staff with us here at Nassau now own a home in Montreat. Their home is okay but it will be some time until they can get there from Greensboro where Marti’s church is located. And I thought of Pat and MaryAnn Miller. They were part of Nassau for so many years when Pat taught Old Testament at Princeton Seminary. They owned a home for decades in Montreat that their children now have since both Pat and MaryAnn have joined the Communion of saints.
Dr Miller once wrote this about our praise and adoration of God. The worship and praise of the people of God “assumes and even evokes a world….where impossible things become possible, where things too difficult become the order of the day.” Miller continues “In a world that assumes the status is quo, that things have to be the way they are, and one must not assume too much about improving them, the doxologies of God’s people are one of the fundamental indicators that wonders have not ceased, possibilities not yet dreamed of will happen, and hope is an authentic stance.” That’s all ridiculous, he notes, “unless one has seen the wonders of God in the past.”
In other words, our doxology, our drum beat of praise, our subversive act of worship assumes and evokes the very kingdom of God. The sounds of our praise serve both to witness to God’s past faithfulness and point to God’s future. The steadfast presence of our song on the sabbath day dares give witness to a world where justice and righteousness kiss, where the weak are made strong, where the poor are lifted up, where the hungry are fed, where the wounded are cared for, and where the oppressed are set free. It’s that song of God’s people. The proclamation of God’s people. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”
A few generations of children have grown up reading the book “Guess How Much I Love You” at bedtime. It’s the story of two rabbits: Big Nutbrown Hare and Little Nut Brown Hare. The two, parent and child, are engaged in a dialogue trying to one-up each other about how much they love each other. This much. THIS much. THIS MUCH. The little one is falling asleep and trying to keep up. “I love you to the moon”, Little Nutbrown Hare says just as sleep takes over. With the young one now fast asleep, Big Nutbrown Hare says, “and back”. As in “I love you to the moon and back again.”
One can imagine all sorts of children now grown who share the refrain with those they love. “love you to the moon…and back”. Maybe the psalmist has offered a version of that dialogue to God’s people. More than a dialogue of praise. A dialogue about our love for God and God’s love for us. “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” Not just as part of our drum beat of praise but deeply ingrained in our relationship to God. You, me and God. When we rise, when we nod off to sleep. Expressing all the fullness of praise that comes with our life in God. And knowing ourselves to now and forever be basking in the love of God made known to us in and through Jesus Christ. God’s offering of the “and back” part of the steadfast love God has for us.
Come to the Table this morning. Even after a week like this, come and dare to celebrate the joyful feast of the people of God.
“O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”