Your Name: in All the Earth
“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers…”, the stars: notes delicately scratched on the silky heavens; when I see mighty Orion battling the Bear or the Lion flung up into the sky; when I marvel at Aldebaran’s glare, or with sparkling Arcturus, laugh at the earth below; “When I look at… the moon …” as, shy, she begins to unveil herself, and slowly start a song that will lure the wistful waters towards her; when I see Andromeda, Halley’s Comet, and countless galaxies scattered as confetti in over-exulting carelessness,
“What are human beings that you are mindful of them?” What is this speck of dust on a speck of dust in the whirlwind of the universe? What does it matter if one of us lives or dies? Will a death shake the mountains or cause the stars to bleed? Would Venus shed a tear for one man less or a groan escape Pluto’ mouth? Does a birth cause Jupiter to throw his head back in laughter or send Mercury flying from his orbit with the message?
“Who is this son of man that you should care for him?” For you have arrayed your hosts in might for his defense. You have called him son, made him heir, and your eyes are ever upon him. His tears make you weep; his laughter makes you sing. And when you looked over the expanse of the universe at the work of your hands, you chose man’s dwelling as your own.
“Yet you have made him a little lower than God, and crowned him with glory and honor.” You have looked down on him and given him dignity and worth. In the splendor of your creation you have not forgotten this poor creature taken from the dust. You have not forgotten him and have taken his soul in your hands, and, as a potter works a lump of clay, so you work his soul until it bear your own image and likeness.
“You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet…” You have gathered all your masterpieces, from the Himalayas to a single blade of grass, and have placed them before him, flung them at his feet as one who strews flowers before the beloved. You shaped wind-swept hills to make him smile, raised the mountains to rouse the fierceness in his breast. You filled the seas to stir in his heart a longing for the depths. The ocean of sky you filled with interlocking lights to make him look up, to give birth to a child’s wonder.
You have given him as vassals the stag, the salmon and the leopard that he might be king as you are king, puppies that he might laugh at your excess. You cut the jagged edge of each leaf and breathed fragrance into each flower. The hummingbird, the snowflake and the robin’s egg are yours.
They bear your message, a secret out in the open. Blessed are those with eyes to see as you see, that in all they see, they see You.
All the universe hints at your presence. All gifts speak of a giver. All creatures whisper your name.
“O Lord, our God, how majestic is your name in all the earth!”