The book of Psalms is a multi-themed book. In it, we encounter themes of worship, thanksgiving, suffering, and redemption, to name but a few. Yet, in some of the Psalms, we also find celebrations of creation.
The flagship of the Psalms of Creation is Psalm 8. Here we see David overwhelmed by the wonder of the night skies, dazzled by the glory of the moon, and feasting on the spectacle of the stars. Perhaps with the naked eye David could have observed as many as a thousand stars on a good night. But with the aid of a telescope, we now know that the wonders of the celestial realm are almost numberless. Yet God knows them all. And this is only the work of His fingers. The ease with which we might make a bracelet or a paper airplane with our fingers, is in no way comparable to how immeasurably easy for the all-powerful infinite God of glory to speak heaven and earth into existence. So infinite his creative power, so infinite His mind!
As David pondered, he wondered: “What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you visit him?” The vastness of the universe overwhelmed him, silenced him, and made him feel small. Psalm 8 models for us the worshipper’s proper response to the universe. C.S. Lewis observed that God made both the universe and a creature with the capacity to appreciate it, saying, “Men look on the starry heavens with reverence; monkeys do not” (C.S. Lewis, Dogma, and the Universe). The heavens are indeed a magnificent and majestic spectacle, yet He has set His “glory above the heavens” (Ps. 8:1). That is to say, the universe communicates “His eternal power and Godhead” (Rom. 1:20), and yet at the same time is not sufficient to communicate all that God is. It is only a hazy illustration of His Being, a faint whisper of His power, a small sampling of His creative genius. No wonder David began and ended this Psalm with the refrain: “How majestic is Your Name in all the earth!” (ESV)
We all like to be well-thought of, and it feels good to be remembered. My wife especially loves it when I buy her a card and give it to her for no apparent reason. David marvelled that God was mindful of us and was astonished that He would even deign to visit us. But love thinks about the object it loves and desires to be with the one in whom it delights. That is why God came to this planet, why the “Dayspring from on High has visited us” (Luke 1:78). David was amazed that God visited us, but how much more would he have marvelled if he knew that even “before the foundation of the world” God made plans to come to earth. He visited us in the person of Christ, coming first as a babe in Bethlehem, then living as a man in Galilee, then offering himself as a sacrifice at Calvary. On this planet God visited us for over 30 years, teaching, healing, leading, and loving us, until He was received back up into glory.
Psalm 19 is next in the Creation Psalms. Like a continuous siren, the heavens declare the glory of God – universally, emphatically, and triumphantly. There are no people or language groups who cannot hear or see the message of God’s glory. The mountains are His, the rivers are His, the stars are His handiwork as well. David then focuses on the sun as a metaphor for God’s pre-eminent glory and power. The sun rejoices like a strong man ready to run his race in a circuit across the track of the sky. It comes out of its chamber like a bridegroom to unite with his bride, the sky. The glory of creation is a continuous river of messages poured out upon mankind, so that they are without excuse. Men may suppress the knowledge of the truth, but they cannot deny it, since He has given us such a clear witness in creation.
Just as the sun is the king of the heavens, around which all things orbit and from which all things draw their life, so too is the Lord Jesus the Son of our redemption. Colossians 1:17 says, “He is before all things, and in Him all things consist.” On the mount of Transfiguration, His disciples caught a glimpse of His true glory when it peeked out from behind His flesh (Matt. 17:2). When John saw Him on the Isle of Patmos, he recorded that “His countenance was like the sun shining in its strength” (Rev. 1:16). No sinner could ever endure even a single glimpse of the brightness of His glory, yet God has made a way for mankind to dwell with Him.
On April 8, 2024, a phenomenal once-in-a-lifetime event occurred: the total eclipse of the sun. For just over four minutes, the moon eclipsed the sun’s strength, allowing mankind to look directly at it with the naked eye. The sight was so spectacular and unparalleled that it made me think of the first coming of our Lord. For centuries, it was foretold that He would come. Then finally, in the fullness of time, God sent forth His Son into the world, born of a woman, and laid Him in a manger. The brightness of His visible glory was briefly eclipsed, and people beheld His glory as they looked upon the face of the Son of God. In the Old Testament, God told Moses, “You cannot see My face, for no man shall see me and live” (Ex. 33:20). But the incarnation made a way for people to look upon God without burning the retinas of their eyes and without overwhelming the sanity of their minds. For more than three decades they saw with their eyes and handled with their hands (1 John 1:1) the holy, high, and hallowed Son of God, until the resurrection and ascension took Him away to glory where He now shines at God’s right hand, waiting until “the Sun of Righteousness shall arise with healing in His wings” (Mal. 4:2).
Psalm 104 also speaks of the glory of creation. Just as a person might set up a tent in the space of an afternoon, so God erected the entire universe in six days. Every morning, when a woman opens the curtains, she is re-enacting the drama of creation, when God stretched “out the heavens like a curtain” (Psa. 104:2). There, as a master framer, He laid the beams of His upper chambers in the waters; and, like a construction worker pouring concrete, He laid the foundations of the earth. The trees of the Lord are full of sap, and He appointed the moon for seasons. The high hills are for the wild goats, and the cliffs are a refuge for the rock badgers. All these marvellous, diverse, and intricate works made the psalmist cry out, “O Lord, how manifold are Your works! In wisdom you have made them all” (Ps. 104:24).
Finally, the book of Psalms ends with a sustained paean of praise to the God of creation. As if summoning all creation together in a choir, the psalmist personifies sun, moon, and stars, and calls upon them to praise their Maker alongside the host of heaven (Ps. 148:2-3). And that’s not all. The sea creatures of the deep are to praise Him too, as well as the wind, hail, snow, and storm, which do His bidding and fulfil His Word. In fact, everything from mountains to magpies is to praise the name of the Lord. From the heights of heaven to the depths of the sea, all creatures are to join in praising the Maker of heaven and earth. Praise the Lord. Amen.