What is Man?

February 26th, 2023

Due to a power outage at the church building, the message was not recorded. Below is the sermon transcript.

Introduction

Good morning, everyone. Grace and peace to you. Our psalm this morning recounts a near-universal experience, namely, looking up into the night sky and wondering were one fits into the picture. You have had that experience, I am sure, that feeling of your smallness in relation to it all, that ego-diminishing sensation where you grasp the vastness of things.

It is exhilarating and terrifying all at once, and it is the experience our psalm recounts. The psalmist looks up into the heavens and asks: What is man? It is the right question to ask: the contrast between the immensity of the universe and our life on “the pale blue dot,” as Carl Sagan put it, forces the question upon us. Where is our place, my place, in all this?

In our age, the question is even more intimidating, given what we know about the universe. According to recent estimates, there are somewhere around two trillion galaxies in the know universe, each containing around 100 billion stars. Astronomers estimate that there are 10,000 stars for every grain of sand on earth. It is absolutely staggering, and it is right to feel insignificant because of it.

But there are some who say that humanity actually is insignificant because of it. That is, the claims (particularly, Christian ones) that humans have a special place in the universe is simply false. The size of the universe and its indifference toward human life refutes any claim to uniqueness on our part.

It argument goes like this: in light of it all, do not the claims that God “came down” to our planet, that he has a special concern for our species, that he died and rose again on our behalf seem rather childish now?

Some argue for a more modest view, in their words. Humans are certainly not unique, given the size of the universe. Surely, there are other creatures just like us—indeed, superior to us. It should keep us from an over-inflated ego, creating these myths about our place in things.

Others go further. Rather than modesty, it is more like contempt. Humans are simply a cosmic accident, a temporary host for genes to propagate themselves, as Dawkins says. In the end, there is nothing special about our species, even our ability to contemplate our place in the universe is simply a evolutionary trick, a useful fiction.

The psalmist’s question is universal, but the answer to it is not. What does the church say about the vastness of the universe? Does it invalidate our claims about the human race? Really, the size of the universe should give us no trouble. Why? Because the claim is, right there in our psalm, that the heavens are the work of God’s fingers and the reflection of his glory.

In one sense, we are supposed to feel that gut-churning feeling at the immensity of the universe. It is supposed to lead to the psalmist’s question about our place in things, but even more, the question of God. Who stands behind all this unfathomable vastness? And what does its immensity and majesty say about its creator?

What about the possibility of other species in the universe? Again, yes or no, it is a question that posses no threat to us. Could God have created other intelligent life beside humans? He did. He created the angels and the vast array of heavenly beings. Is it not so hard to imagine that he could have do so on another planet.

The scriptures are not an answer book, given to satisfy our every curiosity. Instead, the apostle says, “the sacred writings” give us “the wisdom that leads to salvation” (2Ti 3:15). God has not told us everything, only what we need to know. Why would we imagine he has? He created the heavens that we might stand in awe of him, but that hardly means that is their sole purpose. We do not have the slightest clue why he the Andromeda galaxy.

And we should remember that when the vastness of the universe intimidates us, it is only humans who can have that experience. C.S. Lewis says, “Men look on the starry heavens with reverence: monkeys do not.” It is an aspect of human uniqueness that we can tremble at the scale of things. The distance between our galaxy and another is meaningless data without the human mind to give it meaning.

My point here in this apologetic detour is simply to show that we still have good reason for trusting the testimony of the scriptures. No matter what human learning turns up—that is, what we discover about ourselves and the universe—it cannot overthrow what the scripture says about the human race, our place in things.

You Make Him to Rule

And that brings us to our real question: What does the scripture say about the human race? As we noted, the psalm recounts the near-universal experience of looking up and contemplating our place in the universe. It is the same experience modern people have, but the psalmist winds up in a radically different place.

A modern person looks up and what he sees inspires insecurity—a sense of wonder, no doubt, but soon overcome be a greater dread. The psalmist looks up and has the same experience of smallness, yet it leads to another conclusion: he knows that he is only dust, but also that he is the object of divine care.

What is man that You take thought of him,

And the son of man that You care for him?

Psalm 8:4

At the heart of what the scriptures have to say about the human race is that God loves us, that he has a special concern and care for us. Though we are indeed a spec of dust upon a spec of dust, his heart is toward us. And why? Because he made us in his image, according to his likeness.

The next section in our psalm, vv.5-8, are essentially an interpretation of the original creation narrative, specifically the creation of humanity. Genesis 1:27 says, “God created man in his own image… male and female he created them.” And our psalm says, vv.6: “you have made him a little lower than God.”

In the original, it is the word is elohim. It is a generic rather than specific word. In this case, rather than “God” as in the transcendent creator of the universe, it refers to “spiritual beings.” As some translation have it, “heavenly beings” (ESV) or simply “angels” (NIV).

Regardless, the point is: both passages are saying the same thing. Humans are made to mirror their maker, and as such, we have a unique status among creatures. Indeed the psalmist says, “you crown him with glory and majesty” (Ps 8:5). Created in the divine image, humans have an exalted, royal place in creation.

God created man in his image, the creation accounts says, that we might “rule” over the earth (Ge 1:26). And vv.6-8 in our psalm make that same point:

You make him to rule over the works of Your hands;

You have put all things under his feet,

All sheep and oxen,

And also the beasts of the field,

The birds of the heavens and the fish of the sea,

Whatever passes through the paths of the seas.

Psalm 8:6-8

Humans are like vice regents. A vice regent is someone who acts in the place of the ruler. Meaning, the king is away and until he returns the vice regent acts in his place, making decisions and administering the kingdom. Humans are a bit like that. What a vice regent is to the ruler, humans are to the creator.

God creates the vast universe, particularly our planet, and then sets humanity over it, to rule in his place as it were. At the beginning of the creation narrative, the earth is described in two words: formless and void. God acts to correct this. He brings form to a formless world, days one through three, and he brings life to the empty void, days four through six. Then he places humans over the earth to do the same thing.

God commissions us to “fill the earth, and subdue it” (Ge 1:28). That is, to bring order to wild nature, taming and cultivating it, and to then fill it with human life. Man is created male and female, the man’s duty is to bring order, that is, subdue the earth, and the women’s duty is to fill it, that is, to be fruitful. In short, God has put us over his creation to glorify it, to bring its raw potential to perfection. And that is what it means for us to mirror our maker. Human rule over earth is supposed to reflect God’s rule over all things in righteousness and justice and peace.

It is essentially a commission to build civilization. Humans take the raw materials of creation to build homes and cities, to invent instruments and tools. We bring bread from mere grain and produce wine from grapes. We are cooks and hunters and famers and crafters and builders, imaging the creator in all we do.

What is man? Here is the scriptural answer. Humans are God’s vice regents, sub-rulers over the earth, made to mirror his glory in all their works.

What does this mean for us? Simply to keep doing what we are doing. It is all apart of the creation mandate, to be rulers. It brings a new dignity to our life and work. It is not simply a job. It is a uniquely human task that mirrors the maker, and whether you are making a sandwich or software that does not change.

It is our calling to rule after our maker, to bring his glory to our lives and work. It is a wonderful picture of what it means to be human. It pertains to every part of our lives, as husbands and wives, parents and children, employers and employees, in work and rest. “You crown him with glory and majesty; you make him to rule over the works of your hands.”

Men Become Beasts

But we know the story, it does not stay this way for long. Humanity is broken and now it mirrors something quite different than what it was supposed to.

Our psalm pays particular attention to human rule over animals, which seems quite odd or at least not that impressive. It talks about man being given dominion over the earth, but when that is expanded upon it looks like tending sheep and herding cattle. It is a little anti-climactic. I was hoping for something more than life on the ranch.

But there is more going on here. It becomes clear in the original creation narrative. Humans were created to rule over the beasts, but very early on, we find humans listening to the beasts.

The story that tells of our undoing begins with these words: “Now the serpent was more crafty than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made” (3:1). It is clear that there is something more at work in the serpent, but the passage simply wants us to know that it is a beast. Presumably created on the sixth day with the rest of the land animals.

God had placed this creature under the man’s feet, and here it is speaking to him. It has his ear, and the roles are reversed. Rather than asserting their dominion, the man and the woman are brought under the dominion of the serpent. Things go wrong when humans fail to rule as they were intended.

So the problem is: human rule is subverted by beastly rule. And no longer after, humans begin to act beastly themselves. Adam and Eve have two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain is turned away, because his sacrifice was unworthy. He begins to sulk and turn murderous, and God confronts him:

“Why are you angry? And why has your countenance fallen? If you do well, will not your countenance be lifted up? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it.” Genesis 4:6-7

How is sin portrayed in this passage? Like a predatory animal, a beast, crouching at the door, reading to pounce. Cain falls pray to sin, and turns beastly himself: he murders his brother in cold blood. The moral is: turned over to beastly rule, humans become beasts, or rather, their rule is exercised in beastly ways.

What does a beast do? It devours, like Cain. We tear apart the peace God intended for creation. Rather than as humans, crowed “with glory and honor,” we act like beasts toward one another. As the apostle warns us: “If you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another” (Ga 5:15). He pictures the warring church like a pack of wild dogs.

Rather than imitating what is above us, we have come to imitate that which is beneath us.

And this theme runs throughout the scriptures. God enemies are often depicted as beasts, devouring predators. In our modern translations, Goliath is described as wearing “a coat of mail,” but literally the word is scales. The giant warrior taunting the armies of Israel was covered in scales, like a snake.

When the people are afraid for David, he assures them: “The Lord who delivered me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear, he will deliver me from the hand of this Philistine” (1Sa 17:37). God’s enemies are like beasts, lions and bears that attack the sheep, but the king has dominion over them.   

King Nebuchadnezzar is another beast, more literally this time. God visits him, to humble him in his great pride. And how does this happen? He is turned into a beast. His reason leaves him and he “was driven away from mankind and began eating grass like cattle… until his hair had grown like eagles’ feathers and his nails like birds’ claws” (Da 4:33).

It is the garden all over again. Pride turned the king into a beast. He wanted to become like a god and instead he lost his manhood and became a beast. It anticipates the climactic vision in Daniel, where he sees four mighty beasts arising from the sea. One was like a lion, the other a bear, and the third a leopard, and the last was so terrible it resembled nothing in nature.

What are these beasts? The kingdoms and empires of the earth. They are the political embodiment of what happens when humans listen to the serpent. Intended to promote righteousness and justice, these beastly empires fill the earth with blood and violence.

If there is anything we learn from these figures, it is that pride turns one into a beast but humility makes one more human. In pride, these figures claim to be something more than human, and instead become animals. They lift themselves up to godly heights, but they are cast down to the earth. Adam and Eve eat the forbidden fruit hoping to “become like God” (Ge 3:5), and it winds up with them in slavery to the beasts.

Pride turns one beastly.

On the other hand, humility humanizes. A humble person lowers themselves to the earth with the beasts, and therefore they are lifted up. “Humble yourselves in the presence of the Lord, and he will exalt you” (Ja 4:10). Human “glory and majesty” is not attained in pride, but bestowed in humility and obedience. If Adam and Eve had not lifted themselves up in pride, God would exalted them in humility.

Humans were created a little lower than the heavenly beings, crowed with glory and honor, but have been reduced to beasts. God placed us over the works of his hands, to rule and steward creation well, and instead we have devoured it.

The Son of Man

What can be done? Is there any hope for humans-turned-beasts? How are we to be restored to our original glory? The answer: we need another man, a new beginning to the human race.

Do you know Jesus’ favorite name for himself? In the rest of the New Testament, he is referred to as the Christ or Lord or Messiah. But in the Gospels, he hardly calls himself by these names and instead identifies as the Son of Man—ben adam, the Son of Adam. It simply means a human.

After his vision of the four beastly empires, Daniel has another vision. He sees a heavenly courtroom set up. Seated upon the throne is the Ancient of Days, and pouring out before him is a river of fire and thousand upon thousands of heavenly beings.

Judgement was passed against the beastly empires, their dominion was taken from them, and the last beast was slain and its body tossed into the fire. And then what happened?

I kept looking in the night visions,

And behold, with the clouds of heaven

One like a Son of Man was coming,

And He came up to the Ancient of Days

And was presented before Him.

And to Him was given dominion,

Glory and a kingdom,

That all the peoples, nations and men of every language

Might serve Him.

His dominion is an everlasting dominion

Which will not pass away;

And His kingdom is one

Which will not be destroyed.

Daniel 7:13-14

God brings an end to beastly rule and restores proper dominion to one “like the Son of Man.” He ascends on the clouds, is presented before the Ancient of Days, and is given a kingdom, spanning all peoples and nations and times. In this figure, humanity is returned to its original role. The beasts have been deposed and the human is once again ruler over earth.

It takes us back to our psalm and helps us understand it full implications. It is prophetic in nature, not only about men in general, but the man, Jesus. That is how the apostles understood it. Allow me to read it again:

What is man that You take thought of him,

And the son of man that You care for him?

Yet You have made him a little lower than God,

And You crown him with glory and majesty!

You make him to rule over the works of Your hands;

You have put all things under his feet.

Psalm 8:4-6

In Hebrews, our psalm is read in reference to Jesus’ earthly ministry. “You have made him a little lower than God” or “angels,” as some translations have it. This refers to Jesus’ incarnation, becoming human and therefore lower than the heavenly beings. But on account of this, “you crown him with glory and honor.” This refers his resurrection and exaltation into heaven.

And thus, “you make him to rule over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet.” Jesus’ work culminates in him being installed as the ruler over heaven and earth, with the devouring beasts deposed from their rule. As the apostle says:

For He must reign until He has put all His enemies under His feet. The last enemy that will be abolished is death. For He has put all things in subjection under His feet. 1 Corinthians 15:25-27

What does this mean? Simply, that only Jesus—the son of adam, the last man, the true human—can forgive and remove that which is beastly within us, only he can restore us to our “glory and majesty” as humans. We exalted ourselves and became beasts. He humbled himself and became man. In his true manhood, we are restored to ours.

For us, beasts-in-transition, we have to stumble behind his true manhood, until  he returns to abolish the last enemy and put every last thing under his feet. We must walk in his path of humility, till he returns to exalt us to glory.

As we turn to holy communion, we are reminded what these elements mean. The body and blood of the Son of Man broken and poured out for us, that he might welcome us into his everlasting kingdom, that beasts of sin and death might be removed for us, that glory and majesty might be ours once more.

It is right that we give thanks! Come, receive the elements, take them back to your places, and I will lead us in celebration in one moment.

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