In the second book of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy saga, Zaphod Beeblebrox, the mischievous and arrogant president of the galaxy, is scheduled for execution by means of the “Total Perspective Vortex.” The Total Perspective Vortex is a machine that allows its occupant to see in one instant the whole infinity of creation and one’s relative insignificance in relation to it. Here is how it works: “when you are put into the Vortex you are given just one momentary glimpse of the entire unimaginable infinity of creation, and somewhere in it a tiny little marker, a microscopic dot on a microscopic dot, which says ‘You are here.’”

Trin Tragula, the creator of the Total Perspective Vortex initially built it to annoy his wife who complained that he possessed no “sense of proportion.” Trin plugged his wife into the machine and to his horror, “the shock completely annihilated her brain.” Ever since then, the machine was used for the purpose of execution. This is the fate that awaited Zaphod.

To everyone’s surprise, Zaphod comes out of the Total Perspective Vortex completely unharmed. When asked how he survived, he responds, “It just told me what I knew all the time. I’m a really terrific and great guy. Didn’t I tell you, baby, I’m Zaphod Beeblebrox!”

Zaphod’s cavernous ego saved him from destruction. His hubris prevented him from experiencing horror. Seeing himself in relation to the vast enormity of the universe did not invoke terror, but rather, it increased his already bloated perspective. The vastness of the cosmos was no threat to his sense of significance; it simply affirmed his conceit and arrogance. As far as Zaphod is concerned, he is the center of reality and it exists in order to support his swollen sense of self-importance.

David’s Total Perspective Vortex

David shared an experience similar to the Total Perspective Vortex, but with an entirely different result – one more befitting reality. He shares this experience with us in Psalm 8.

Confronting the horror of the vastness of the heavens and one’s relative smallness can be devastating. The feeling of being lost in the cosmos stirs up fundamental questions such as “Who am I?” “Why am I here?” and “Do I matter at all?” These are the basic questions of life:

• Who am I? Am I essentially an animal, a highly evolved mammal, a hairless ape? Am I a god? Or, does the truth lie somewhere in-between?
• Why am I here? Am I the random product of completely natural and irrational causes? Am I a spark of divinity? Or, does the truth lie somewhere in-between?
• But most important of all (and both of the previous questions are rooted in this inquiry): Do I matter? What is my place in the universe? Is my life significant or meaningless? Am I lost in the cosmos or am I the focus of divine gaze?

The answers to these basic life questions are radically impacted by the answers one gives to the biggest questions of all – questions relating to the existence and nature of God. Is there a God? If so, what is God like? Is God personal? Does God have a will for me, for the world, for the universe? Is God apathetic to the plight of the universe and its inhabitants? Is history going somewhere or is heat death the end of the cosmos?

Questions relating to the existence and nature of God possess vast significance for our own self-understanding. Theologians have always recognized that we can only know our true identity in relationship to God. For example, John Calvin begins his monumental Institutes of the Christian Religion with the following axiom:

Our wisdom, in so far as it ought to be deemed true and solid Wisdom, consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves. But as these are connected together by many ties, it is not easy to determine which of the two precedes and gives birth to the other.[1]

More recently, commentator Artur Weiser states, “There is no revelation of God except it also throws at the same time a special light on the nature of man; and conversely, a true understanding of man cannot be achieved if God is disregarded.”

The truth concerning who we are, why we are here, and whether we possess significance is staggering. But it can only be grasped and enjoyed in respect to the truth concerning God.

An Introduction to Psalm 8

Psalm 8 is the first hymn of praise in the Psalter. Its structure is simple. It begins and ends with identical phrases praising God: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth” (Ps. 8:1a, 9). This praise-phrase frames two reflective sections that celebrate glory: first, the glory of God (Ps. 8:1b-2), followed by the heart of the psalm – a celebration of the glory of humanity (Ps. 8:3-8).

The movement of the Psalm is from God to creation to humanity to creation to God. It is radically theocentric and yet overwhelmingly affirming of the glory of creation and humanity. The unique structure of the Psalm holds together the praise of God and the celebration of humanity. The glory and majesty of humanity is to be understood in relation to the majesty and glory of God. Its form demands that we recognize that “the majesty of God in ‘all the earth’ includes the glory and dominion of humanity.”[2] Put simply, the glory and dominion of humanity magnifies the majesty and glory of God.

A Celebration of God’s Glory

God’s majesty is visible in the whole world, from the silent witness of the beauty of the heavens to the spoken witness of nursing infants.

“God has displayed his splendor above the heavens” (Ps. 8:1b). The glory of God is so great that the heavens reveal it in the silent witness of their majestic beauty and awe-inspiring magnificence. However, the manifold splendor of the heavens does not exhaustively reveal God’s glory. God’s splendor is “above the heavens,” that is, it transcends what is visible in creation.

The brilliance of God’s majesty is not just displayed in the glories of the heavens; it is also demonstrated in the babble and prattle of infants: “Out of the mouths of babes and infants you have founded a bulwark because of your foes, to silence the enemy and the avenger” (Ps. 8:2). The most feeble expression of human beings – the crying, laughing, and jabbering of infants and toddlers – is presented as a rampart against God’s enemies. Weiser describes this paradoxical power:

Even the adversaries (skeptics and atheists) cannot disregard the fact that the child utterly and complete surrenders to the impression produced by things which are great and glorious, and does so in an unaffected and direct manner… and gives expression to his childlike joy in the works of God’s creation by his games and songs… How often are the trains of thought of adults put to shame by the unfeigned purity of the feelings expressed in the words of a little child… it is in small and insignificant things that the greatness of God is revealed.[3]

Jesus refers to this verse when children sing his praises in the presence of the religious leaders who opposed to his ministry (Matthew 21:14-16). Interestingly, by doing this, Jesus places the chief priests and scribes in the category of “foes, enemies, and avengers.”

Lost in the Cosmos or Focus of Divine Gaze?

After reflecting on God’s glory demonstrated through the weakness of infants, David returns his attention to the heavens. “When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have ordained...” (Ps. 8:3)

We can imagine David on a hillside, tending sheep, reflecting upon the vast black canvas spotted with gleaming stars and the eerie glow of the moon. While stargazing, David is confronted with the horror of the vastness of space. This vastness was known in the Hebrew Bible where the stars are compared to the grains of sand on the seashore. It is known even more intensely to us in light of the awe-inspiring pictures from the Hubble telescope.

This reminds me of the introduction to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, a handbook for cosmic travelers. It reads: “Space is big. Really big. You just won’t believe how vastly hugely mindboggingly big it is. I mean you may think it's a long way down the road to the chemist, but that’s just peanuts to space.”[4]

Certainly, space is “vastly hugely mindboggingly big.” But for one who embraces the existence of God, the enormity of space introduces a whole new set of existential problems. The universe is so immense and we are so small. Do we have a role? Do we count at all? Does our existence matter?

When man gazes up at the illimitable expanse of the heavens studded with stars, the difference between God and man is revealed in all its magnitude, and the wholly contradictory quality of that difference is made manifest. The finite is confronted with the infinite, the transient with the eternal, the perpetual sorrows and anxieties of man, who constantly goes astray, with the peace, steadiness and order manifested by the heavenly bodies which run their prescribed course.[5]

David’s stargazing causes him to wrestle with the fundamental questions of life, beginning with the most basic: Who am I? “What is man, that you take thought of him? And the son of man, that you care for him?” (Ps. 8:4).

Before he gives us an answer, we must note that his question assumes something wondrous about God. He assumes that God “thinks about” and “cares for” human beings. As James Mays paraphrases, he considers human beings to be “God-remembered and God-visited mortals.”[6] As a partaker in God’s covenant, David knows that God remembers and cares. He does not question God’s concern for humanity. Instead, he wonders why God is concerned at all! In view of God’s majestic glory, why should God be preoccupied with mere mortals? There are certainly other alternatives for God’s attention and care, and yet God is mindful of and cares for humans.

Though we may feel at times that we are “lost in the cosmos” we are God’s special creatures. God takes particular and passionate interest in us. Though we are not the center of the universe, for some reason, we are the center of God’s universe. The question therefore remains: What is the reason? Why is God so interested in us?

A Celebration of Humanity

The answer David gives is staggering! “You have made him a little lower than God, and you crown him with glory and majesty!” (Ps. 8:5)

Who am I? I am one who is “a little lower than God… crowned with glory and majesty.”[7] Is this how you would describe humanity? If not, why not? David does. Human beings are described, not in relation to inanimate matter, other creatures, or even angels; humans are described in relation to God. We are not described as “a little higher than the beasts”; we are described as “a little lower than God.” The mind-numbing truth is that human beings reflect God’s glory and majesty more than all other creatures.

We are “crowned with glory and majesty.” These are attributes generally related to God. The God of glory has crowned humanity with glory. The majesty of the Creator can be found in the creature. David uses kingly language (crowns, glory, and majesty) to express this magnificent truth. We are, all of us, kings and queens of the earth!

As those who possess such a high status in God’s creation, what are we to do? In other words, our answer to “Who am I?” leads us to ask, “Why am I here?” The answer: we are to rule God’s earth for God’s glory. Echoing the opening chapters of Genesis, David declares our created purpose:

You have given humanity dominion over the works of your hands;
you have put all things under their feet,
all sheep and oxen
and also the beasts of the field,
the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea,
whatever passes along the paths of the seas. (Ps. 8:6-8)

Dominion is God’s gift. It is not an achievement of humankind; it is our inheritance. Humankind’s supremacy over all creation[8] is not the result of autonomous human effort; it is the result of God’s sovereign will. As those “made a little lower than God… crowned with glory and majesty” we are to represent the reign of God to other creatures. The earth and all its creatures are given to us as one vast project of stewardship.

With a newfound awareness of his identity, his purpose, and his mission, David’s thoughts turn back to God. He has seen all things in their true light and proper relationship. David thus returns to the place he started – praising God: “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth” (Ps. 8:9).

Three Important Truths from Psalm 8

This beautiful psalm underscores three important truths:

The glory of humanity. Human beings are “a little lower than God, crowned with glory and honor” and granted dominion over all the earth. This applies to all humans without exception. This is not something that is valid only for believers; it is valid for all. All people – regardless of race, nationality, sex, or religion – are God-remembered and God-visited. The language of Psalm 8 declares every man, woman, and child a king. This should radically impact the way we view and treat others.

The tragedy of depravity. Something is tragic only when it involves great loss. Such is the case with human sin. The tragedy of human depravity is that we have been created for so much more. Through our unwillingness to recognize and serve our Creator, we fall from great heights. We are kings who have become paupers.

This is evidenced most painfully in the chaos that surrounds us. Clearly the human race has failed miserably in its task to civilize the earth. Our failure stems from our unwillingness to reflect God’s righteous rule. “If the centrality of human dominion does not contribute to the majesty of God ‘in all the earth,’ then God-given dominion has been replaced by human autonomy.”[9] We have failed to maintain the balance that this psalm possesses by focusing exclusively on the center (the glory of humanity) and forgetting the essential boundaries (the majesty of God). McCann puts it well,

[H]uman beings do have a central role in the created order. The greater danger, however, is that we focus on the center without an awareness of the boundaries. To put human dominion at the center of things without the context of God’s sovereignty is positively dangerous.[10]

When we are like Zaphod Beeblebrox, and assume that we are the center of the universe, our megalomania wreaks havoc on others and our environment. Our failure to reflect God’s glory – our sin – brings devastation in its wake. “Dominion has become domination; rule has become ruin; subordination to the divine purpose has become subjection to human sinfulness.”[11] As a result “the whole creation groans, longing for redemption” (Romans 8:22-23). This leads to our third and final point.

The wonder of Christ. Though Psalm 8 is not intended as a picture of Christ, it is true that Christ alone fully answers it. The perfect human dominion God desires, expressed in the way God intends, has been (and is being) accomplished in Christ.[12] Through his death, resurrection, and ascension, Jesus allows us to participate in his victory and partake of our destiny – to be sons and daughters of glory sharing his dominion in perfect reflection of God.

Our Total Perspective Vortex must include a vision of God’s majesty and our high privilege to share his glory as image-bearers of the divine. Instead of hubris, we must know the humility of willingly reflecting God’s good will for the sake of the world. Our first steps of humility will involve embracing Christ Jesus as the fulfillment of God’s will, and sharing in his reign through the Spirit to the glory of God the Father.

© Richard J. Vincent, 2005