To be perfectly honest I am at a loss for words because Psalm 104 has so much in it that I don’t really know where to begin. It lends itself to a discussion of form as the chiastic structure highlights God’s creative powers. It also lends itself to a discussion of creation as its content sends you back to Genesis 1. And as with any scripture, it lends itself to personal introspection, for after reading about God’s nature and works we must ask ourselves how to respond to the God who formed the heavens and the earth. However, for an odd reason, I am drawn to thoughts regarding art.
I’ve had a number of friends in the past who were artists from whom I purchased, or was given, a work of art. Most of these hang in my room and I see them every day. There is a drawing from a college friend hanging just to the left of my desk which causes me to think about the responsibility of living in a wealthy society. Behind me hangs a drawing from a former family member who has long since passed away. On a far wall is a drawing of St. George and the Dragon given to me by a friend who restored a car I once owned. On another wall hangs a drawing of Batman given to me by a former student. Each of these, as well as a few others I have not mentioned, reminds me of the person I once knew and our relationship, however long ago it may have been. But, as with most things, I have stopped noticing them every day even though they are in front of me continually. There are days when I do take notice of them, but I rarely contemplate them for very long. Sadly, they are no longer immediately relevant and have thus faded into the background of my life.
But this relegation to obscurity doesn’t happen only with art. Far too often I can get caught up in the events of the moment, forgetting about the bigger picture. I perform the tasks required of me each day but easily lose sight of why I am doing them. Even more so, I find that I forget about the one who has created me and the world in which I work. Essentially, my memory has grown short, which I find to be the death of true worship.
If you recall from my discussion of Psalm 103 the Hebrew word for “bless” means to “bend the knee.” This same term is repeated in Psalm 104, thus emphasizing the proper response to encountering God, our creator. In Psalm 103 we are called to bend the knee because he forgives us, redeems us, and loves us with a steadfast love. Kneeling before him is a proper response to all that he has done for his people and how he judges those who do not follow him. In fact, it is not only humanity being called on to bow before him, all of creation is called upon to worship him. But Psalm 104 places its emphasis on God’s creative nature.
We are told how he established this realm as a robe of majesty and splendor for himself. We are reminded of the flood and how he restricted the waters from covering the earth again. We are told of how those same waters that were once meant for judgment became life to all of the earth. They quench the thirst of the wild animals, they cause the grass to grow, the plants to produce fruit, and man to bring forth food and wine for necessity and joy. We are told how God’s hand brings food and comfort to all of creation as well as how there are times when he withholds his spirit, each act being an outworking of his steadfast love. But sadly, just as with the artwork on my walls, all of these things seem to easily fade into the background of my life, as I grow continually focused on and busy with my daily duties. But this ought not to be so.
I think we all know we shouldn’t allow God’s creation to become a background element in our lives, but for some reason it still does. I suppose we can ask how we got there, but it might be more important to ask how we can get back. How do we find the proper balance where our awareness of God’s work and presence is not eclipsed by the very world in which we live? And, how do we maintain such a balance so as to not be so heavenly-minded that we are no earthly good?
Well, to be honest, on most days I don’t know the answer to those questions. I know this sounds awful, but the long drag of the mundane seems to dull my senses to the God’s presence. Now, it may be that I have allowed it to occur, or it may be that life leads in that direction, I’m not certain, but on most days I allow the works and ways of God to be painted into a corner of the background of my life and then I move on. But there are some days that are different. On those days, the days when I immerse myself in scripture, bend down to pray, and meditate on his word, his works, and his world I find a sliver of hope and joy peering through the background of the mundane. On those days, the art pops out from the wall and forces me to confront not only the work but to remember the artist behind it. Those are the days I long for. Those are the days that Psalm 104 calls us to remember.
