The Lavish Logic of God Text: Psalm 104:10-15
Introduction: Creation is Thick
We live in a thin and watery age. Our generation has been catechized by the gnostics, who teach that spirit is good and matter is bad. They may not use those exact words, but the sentiment is everywhere. Holiness, for many, is found in abstraction, in ethereal thoughts, in denying the goodness of the created world. They want a disembodied faith, a ghost-in-the-machine religion. They are suspicious of laughter, of feasting, of anything that involves the senses and delights the body. They want to serve God, but they want to do it in a gray, beige, and uniformly bland universe.
But the God of the Bible is not a gnostic. He is not a stingy deity who created the world out of some unfortunate necessity. He is a God of glorious, overflowing, and profligate abundance. Creation is not thin; it is thick. It is textured, colored, and heavy with meaning and goodness. God likes stuff. He made it, after all. He made water and mountains, beasts and birds, grass and wine and oil and bread. And He declared it all very good. This is not a problem to be overcome; it is a gift to be received with thanksgiving.
Psalm 104 is a grand tour of this thick creation. It is a hymn celebrating the ongoing, active providence of God. This is not Deism, where God wound up the clock and walked away. This is theism, where God is intimately and personally involved in sustaining every molecule He has made. He is not a distant, absentee landlord. He is the one who sends the springs into the valleys and gives water to the cattle. He is the one who makes the grass grow and the wine flow.
The portion of the psalm before us today is a direct assault on all forms of world-denying asceticism. It is a celebration of God's lavish, generous, and thoughtful provision for all His creatures, from the wild donkeys to the pinnacle of His creation, man. And in this provision, we see not just a lesson in biology or hydrology, but a lesson in theology. The way God cares for His world is the pattern for how He cares for His people. The logic of His creation is the grammar of His redemption. If we misunderstand the goodness of the first, we will inevitably distort the glory of the second.
The Text
He sends forth springs in the valleys; They flow between the mountains; They give water to every beast of the field; The wild donkeys quench their thirst. Above them the birds of the heavens dwell; They give forth their voices among the branches. He gives water to the mountains from His upper chambers; The earth is satisfied with the fruit of His works. He causes the grass to grow for the cattle, And vegetation for man’s cultivation, To bring forth food from the earth, And wine which makes man’s heart glad, To make his face glisten more than oil, And food which sustains man’s heart.
(Psalm 104:10-15 LSB)
The Unseen Hand in Every Stream (vv. 10-13)
The psalmist begins by tracing the water cycle back to its ultimate source, which is not evaporation or atmospheric pressure, but God Himself.
"He sends forth springs in the valleys; They flow between the mountains; They give water to every beast of the field; The wild donkeys quench their thirst. Above them the birds of the heavens dwell; They give forth their voices among the branches. He gives water to the mountains from His upper chambers; The earth is satisfied with the fruit of His works." (Psalm 104:10-13)
Notice the active, personal verb: "He sends." The springs do not simply bubble up because of geological forces. Behind the geology is theology. God is the one who personally dispatches the water. This is a direct statement of His constant, sustaining providence. The world is not a closed system of natural laws running on its own steam. The natural laws are nothing more than a description of the consistent way God governs His world. He is the one making it all happen, moment by moment.
And this provision is not haphazard. It is orderly. The springs are in the valleys, flowing between the mountains. God has designed a world with topography, with high places and low places, and He has engineered a plumbing system to match. This water is for "every beast of the field." God's care extends to all His creatures. He is concerned with the thirst of the wild donkeys. These are not domesticated animals useful to man; they are symbols of the untamed wilderness. Yet God provides for them. This is a rebuke to our own narrow utilitarianism. God sustains things that we might see as useless, because they have value to Him.
This provision creates a habitat. Where there is water, there is life. "Above them the birds of the heavens dwell." The birds do not just happen to be there. They dwell there. They make their home there, secure in the provision of God. And what do they do? They sing. "They give forth their voices among the branches." This is not just noise. It is creation's doxology. The birds are preaching a sermon to us, if we have ears to hear. Their song is a testimony to the faithfulness of their Creator.
The psalmist then looks up, from the springs in the valleys to the rain from the heavens. "He gives water to the mountains from His upper chambers." God's storehouses are in the heavens, and He waters the high places, which in turn feed the springs below. The whole system works together in beautiful harmony because God is orchestrating it. The result? "The earth is satisfied with the fruit of His works." The creation is not left wanting. It is satisfied. This word points to a deep contentment, a fullness. God's work produces satisfaction. This is a foundational principle. When God works, the result is satisfaction, not frustration. This is true of the physical earth, and it is profoundly true of the soul that rests in Him.
The Gladness of God's Provision (vv. 14-15)
Having established God's care for the animal kingdom, the psalmist now turns to His specific, thoughtful provision for mankind.
"He causes the grass to grow for the cattle, And vegetation for man’s cultivation, To bring forth food from the earth, And wine which makes man’s heart glad, To make his face glisten more than oil, And food which sustains man’s heart." (Psalm 104:14-15 LSB)
Again, God is the active agent. "He causes the grass to grow." This is for the cattle, which in turn serve man. But God also provides "vegetation for man's cultivation." This is a key phrase. God gives the raw materials, but He invites man into the process. We are to cultivate. This is the dominion mandate from Genesis 1. We are co-laborers with God. He makes the seed, but we are to plant it. He sends the rain, but we are to harvest the crop. This is the dignity of work. God has designed the world in such a way that our intelligent labor is a necessary part of bringing forth its fruitfulness.
And what does this cultivated earth produce? The psalmist highlights three things: wine, oil, and bread. This is not an accidental trio. This is the staple of life and celebration in the ancient world. But look at what they are for. This is where we must pay close attention, because this is a direct refutation of the thin, gnostic view of the world.
First, there is "wine which makes man's heart glad." God is not just interested in our survival; He is interested in our joy. He made an alcoholic beverage for the express purpose of gladdening the human heart. This is a staggering thought for the teetotaling moralist. God is not a cosmic killjoy. He is the author of gladness. Of course, this gift can be abused, as any good gift can. The Bible is full of warnings against drunkenness. But the abuse of a thing does not negate its proper use. The fact that some men worship the sun does not mean we should live in caves. God gave wine for joy. To reject the gift out of fear is to insult the Giver.
Second, God gives oil "to make his face glisten." This speaks of health, vitality, and festivity. A glistening face is the opposite of a downcast, sorrowful countenance. It is a sign of well-being and prosperity. God is not glorified by our morose and gloomy piety. He is glorified when His people are so filled with His goodness that it shines from their faces. This points to a robust, healthy, vibrant faith. It is an embodied faith, not just a set of abstract beliefs.
Third, He gives "food which sustains man's heart." The Hebrew word for food is bread. Bread strengthens, it provides the core energy for life and labor. So we have the complete picture: bread for strength, oil for health, and wine for joy. God provides for the whole man, body and soul. He gives us what we need to work (bread), what we need to thrive (oil), and what we need to celebrate (wine).
The Gospel in the Grain
This entire passage is a beautiful portrait of God's common grace, His benevolent care over all His creation. But as with all of Scripture, it points beyond itself to a greater reality. The God who provides water from the rock in the wilderness is the God who provides living water in Jesus Christ. The God who satisfies the earth is the God who satisfies the soul.
The pattern of God's provision in creation is a type, a shadow, of His provision in redemption. He provides everything we need for life and godliness. Think of the trio of bread, wine, and oil. These are not just agricultural products; they are sacramental elements throughout Scripture. Oil is for anointing, setting apart priests and kings. Bread and wine are the very elements of the central sacrament of the new covenant.
Jesus Christ is the true Bread from heaven that sustains our hearts for eternity (John 6:35). He is the one whose life provides the foundational strength for our spiritual lives. Without Him, we are spiritually starving, unable to do any work of righteousness.
Jesus Christ is the true source of anointing Oil. He is the Messiah, the Anointed One, and through Him, the Holy Spirit is poured out on us, making our faces shine with the reflected glory of God. We are anointed in Him, set apart as a royal priesthood (1 Peter 2:9). Our faces glisten not with olive oil, but with the joy of the Holy Spirit.
And Jesus Christ is the true Vine, and His blood is the true Wine that makes the heart of the redeemed sinner glad (John 15:1). The gladness that comes from a cup of earthly wine is a fleeting shadow. But the joy that comes from the forgiveness of sins, purchased by the blood of Christ, is an eternal gladness. It is a deep, abiding joy that no circumstance can steal. This is why at the Lord's Table, we partake of bread and wine. We are tasting the gospel. We are tasting the strength and the gladness that Christ provides. We are remembering that God's provision is not just for our bodies, but for our souls. He has given us His Son, the fruit of His greatest work, and in Him, our souls are truly and eternally satisfied.