Cosmic Dust and Crowned Kings Text: Psalm 8:3-8
Introduction: The Measure of a Man
We live in an age of profound confusion about who and what man is. On the one hand, our secularist high priests tell us that we are nothing more than sophisticated apes, a cosmic accident, a momentary and meaningless twitch in a vast, cold, and indifferent universe. We are, in their telling, just stardust that got lucky for a little while. And on the other hand, these same people will turn around and declare that man is the measure of all things, that our appetites are sovereign, that our self-definition is the highest law, and that the universe ought to bend to our every whim. We are simultaneously nothing and everything.
This is not just a contradiction; it is insanity. It is the incoherent babbling of a culture that has rejected its Creator and, as a necessary consequence, has lost the instruction manual for itself. When you throw out the Maker, you throw out the meaning of the thing made. You cannot know what a man is for if you deny the One who made him for a purpose. And so we see the wreckage of this confusion all around us, in the dissolution of the family, in the butchery of the unborn, in the sexual chaos that parades as liberation, and in the despair that gnaws at the heart of modern man.
Into this schizophrenic darkness, Psalm 8 speaks with the force of a thunderclap. It answers the question, "What is man?" with a clarity that is both humbling and exhilarating. David, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, looks up at the immensity of God's creation, feels his own smallness, and then marvels at the staggering honor God has bestowed upon mankind. This psalm is the divine corrective to both our groveling materialism and our arrogant humanism. It tells us that we are not gods, but we are not mere animals either. We are something else entirely. We are God's appointed vice-regents, created to rule the earth under Him. This psalm is about our identity, our purpose, and our destiny, a destiny that was fumbled by the first Adam but gloriously secured and fulfilled by the Second.
The Text
When I see Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, The moon and the stars, which You have established; What is man that You remember him, And the son of man that You care for him? Yet You have made him a little lower than the angels, 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, All sheep and oxen, And also the animals of the field, The birds of the heavens and the fish of the sea, Whatever passes through the paths of the seas.
(Psalm 8:3-8 LSB)
Cosmic Awe and Human Frailty (v. 3-4)
The psalm begins with a sense of proper perspective. David looks up.
"When I see Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, The moon and the stars, which You have established; What is man that You remember him, And the son of man that You care for him?" (Psalm 8:3-4)
This is the necessary starting point for all true self-knowledge. Before you can know who you are, you must first have some sense of who God is. David looks at the night sky, not as a modern astronomer might, with a cold, mathematical detachment, but as a worshiper. He sees not just celestial mechanics, but the "work of Your fingers." This is a delicate, personal touch. The God who spun galaxies into existence did so with the intimacy of a potter shaping clay. This is not the Big Bang of impersonal chance; this is the intricate craftsmanship of a personal Creator.
Faced with this casual display of omnipotence, the sheer scale of the cosmos, David is struck with a profound sense of his own insignificance. "What is man?" What is this creature of dust, this fragile, fleeting being, that the God of the Andromeda Galaxy should even notice him? What is the "son of man," a Hebrew idiom for a human being, that God should "care for him," which means to visit, to attend to, to intervene for?
This is the question every honest man must ask. In the face of infinity, we are nothing. Our lives are a vapor. Our planet is a speck of dust in a sunbeam. This is a truth that can either lead to nihilistic despair, as it does for the atheist, or to worshipful humility, as it does for David. The difference is the character of the God you are considering. If the universe is a blind, grinding machine, then our smallness is a horror. But if the universe is the handiwork of a loving Father, then His attention to us, in our smallness, is the greatest wonder of all.
Crowned with Glory and Majesty (v. 5)
Just when we are humbled to the point of dust, God lifts our chin and places a crown on our head.
"Yet You have made him a little lower than the angels, And You crown him with glory and majesty!" (Psalm 8:5)
The contrast is breathtaking. What is man? He is the creature who, despite his physical frailty, has been ranked just a notch below the angels. The Hebrew can be translated "a little lower than God" or "the gods" (elohim), but the New Testament interprets this for us as angels (Hebrews 2:7), and we must let the later revelation anchor our understanding of the former. Man is placed in a position of immense dignity and authority in the created order.
And not only is he given a high rank, he is crowned. This is royal language. "Glory and majesty" are attributes that belong to God Himself, yet He shares them with man. This is the doctrine of the imago Dei, the image of God. Man is created to be God's representative, to mirror His character and rule on earth. This is our created purpose. We were not made to be autonomous, to make up our own rules. We were made to be vassal kings, ruling on behalf of the great King.
But we must be careful here. The New Testament takes this verse and applies it directly and prophetically to the Lord Jesus Christ. The author of Hebrews quotes this very passage and says that we see Jesus, "who was made a little lower than the angels for the suffering of death, crowned with glory and honour" (Heb. 2:9). The first Adam was crowned, and he promptly dropped that crown in the mud of his rebellion. He failed. But the last Adam, Jesus Christ, took on our frail humanity, becoming a "son of man," and through His humility, suffering, and death, He perfectly fulfilled this calling. He won back the crown that Adam lost, and in His exaltation, He is crowned with a glory that far surpasses anything Adam ever knew.
The Dominion Mandate (v. 6-8)
This royal status is not for decoration. It comes with a job description, a glorious and sweeping commission.
"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 animals 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)
This is a direct echo of the creation mandate in Genesis 1:28, where God commands mankind to "be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the earth." Man was created to be a king, a steward, a cultivator of God's world. The entire created order was placed "under his feet," a phrase signifying total authority and subjugation.
The list here is representative, not exhaustive. It moves from the domestic ("sheep and oxen") to the wild ("animals of the field"), and then to the birds of the air and the fish of the sea. It encompasses the whole of the non-human creation. Man's task was to wisely govern, to develop, to build, and to bring all of creation to its full, God-glorifying potential. This is the foundation for all legitimate human endeavor, from farming and fishing to science and art. We are here to take dominion.
But again, we look around the world and what do we see? We see a creation groaning under the mismanagement of fallen man (Romans 8:22). We see pollution, waste, and tyranny. We see man's rule resulting not in flourishing, but in decay. The first Adam failed spectacularly in his commission. He abdicated his throne and became a slave to sin, dragging the whole creation down with him.
The Last Adam and His Kingdom
So, is the dominion mandate a lost cause? Is this psalm just a sad reminder of what might have been? The New Testament thunders, "No!" The author of Hebrews looks at this psalm and says, "For in that He put all in subjection under him, He left nothing that is not put under him. But now we do not yet see all things put under him" (Hebrews 2:8). There is the problem. We see the failure of Adam. We do not see man ruling as he ought.
But he doesn't stop there. The very next verse is the gospel in miniature: "But we see Jesus..." (Hebrews 2:9). We do not yet see the fullness of man's dominion restored, but we see the Man, the true Son of Man, Jesus Christ, who has been crowned with glory and honor. In His resurrection and ascension, God the Father put all things under His feet (Ephesians 1:20-22). The Apostle Paul makes the same argument in 1 Corinthians 15. He quotes this psalm and applies it to the risen Christ, who "must reign till He has put all enemies under His feet" (1 Cor. 15:25).
This is the central reality of human history. The dominion that Adam lost, Christ has won. And He is not ruling in isolation. He is the head, and the church is His body (Eph. 1:22-23). We are His feet. The dominion mandate is now being carried out through the Great Commission. As we go into all the world and make disciples of the nations, teaching them to obey everything Christ has commanded, we are participating in the restoration of man's rightful rule under God. We are, in Christ, taking back the territory that Adam surrendered.
This is not a pietistic retreat from the world. It is a commission to reclaim it. Every area of life, every sheep and ox, every field and sea, every laboratory and legislature, belongs to King Jesus. And He is exercising His dominion through His people as they faithfully apply His Word to every square inch of His creation.
So when you look up at the stars and feel small, do not despair. Remember that the Maker of those stars became a son of man for you. And when you look at the mess man has made of this world, do not grow cynical. Look to Jesus, the crowned and glorious King. He has all authority in heaven and on earth. He has put all things under His feet. And because we are in Him, that is the safest, most glorious, and most powerful place in the entire cosmos to be.