Psalm 8:3-4 When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have ordained;… The Psalmist has been contemplating the clear midnight sky, and there strikes into his soul that old, that unchanging sensation by contrast to the vastness of man's littleness. Everything that has happened in the way of advancing our knowledge of the world has gone to augment this consciousness of man's physical littleness. Astronomy has shown that this planet is not the centre of any system at all. Geology took up the tale where astronomy had left it; and man, the speck in space, becomes but as a moment in time. Biology took up the story where geology left it; and man, the speck in space, the moment in time, becomes now just as one of the changing phases in the ever-running river of life. True, there is a sense in which science gives back to us with its left hand what it has taken away with its right. Still, man feels his littleness as he never felt it before in the vastness, the inconceivable vastness, of the system of nature. When you look at man in history there again the same sensation is borne in upon your mind. Man in history appears as moving under the impulse of vast forces which he cannot control. Men are dispirited, embittered, crushed by the sense of their own failure, by the sense that they are infinitely weak, and circumstances infinitely strong. The individual life seems just but as a spark that can be snuffed out, puffed out, just by the breath and the wind of circumstance. Among great men there is no one to whom the sense of man's littleness has presented itself with such overwhelming force as to Pascal. It is when we pass from the intellect to the moral faculties that we first begin to gain reassurance. There is in man, who can resist and can impress a spiritual and moral meaning on his circumstances, something greater than there is in all the universe beside. There is in all of us, whatever we may have been, something which rises in us and tells us what we are meant to do and to be, some sense of duty, some inherent conviction, that what we ought to be is assuredly in the long run what we can be. And this conscience forces us to believe, that there is a moral purpose in this world, which must at last be vindicated as supreme. All the vague mass of emotion and feeling of this sort comes to its centre, and finds its realisation in the victory and the ascension of Jesus of Nazareth. It is the glory of the Christian faith that for us who believe in Jesus, and know the record of His life, all the dim faith in the supremacy of goodness has reached a point of primary realisation. Sovereignty, supreme and absolute, is in the case of Jesus of Nazareth the goal and climax of all moral effort. The exaltation of Jesus is not His own personal supremacy merely; it is the hope and encouragement of the whole race. To us Christians the ascension, the glorification of our Lord, His triumph as prophet, priest, and king, ought to be a thought both of continual power and continual inspiration....In the moral world, ay, in the world of matter as well as of spirit, there is nothing ultimately strong but that cause, that cause of thoroughgoing holiness, truth, and love, which is forever embodied in Jesus our Lord. (Bishop Gore.) Parallel Verses KJV: When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; |