As has been fairly well established over the course of the last 2 years, my reading tastes – and listening too, throwing podcasts and audiobooks into the mix – might be described as eclectic, varied, and broad. In feeding those tastes recently, I’ve been listening to some retellings of the Greek myths, and one feature of those that has caught my attention is that the Greek gods are basically human with extra power. Sure, they can do things like clothe the entire earth in darkness so no one on Olympus can see what’s going on, or throw thunderbolts, etc; but in terms of their character, they’re basically immortal humans with superpowers. There’s no pretense that the Greek gods really have the best interests of humanity at heart (Prometheus’ gift of fire notwithstanding) or are looking out for anyone but themselves. The Greek gods don’t have a corner on that market; that’s more or less the description of all the deities from ancient myths. What it comes down to is that humans are really great at inventing gods in their own image. I’m far from the first person to think about this; it wouldn’t be too difficult to identify dozens of people (if not more) that have thought along similar lines. If it were less talked about, I would track down sources; this is such a well-known and oft-discussed topic that I don’t feel compelled to do so.
On another note, a frequent objection to Christianity runs along the lines of “well, I could never worship a God that I don’t understand”. I think those objections are just another way of saying that humans prefer gods made in their own image to the actual God of the universe who made man in His image. Truthfully, there is much about the Lord that we don’t understand, and in many cases it’s not because we haven’t sufficiently. It’s more because He is truly beyond human comprehension. When the rubber meets the road though and life becomes difficult, we need something more than human. In the midst of trials and suffering, what kind of comfort would be found in hoping for rescue from more powerful and longer-lived but still very self-centered humans? Small comfort indeed, I would hazard; if you’re on the fence, look into Zeus, Hera, and how they interacted with humans before choosing a side. (Parental warning though; it’s not pretty.) That’s one reason I appreciate the contrast between the Lord and mankind that is often drawn for us by the writers of the Psalms.
The Psalms have a well-deserved reputation for being real. The writers didn’t hold back as they poured out their frustrations, griefs, and sorrows to the Lord and as they recounted His past providence and expectantly looked to the future. Yes, the Psalms may be poetry, but they’re not all the flowery language of a 19th-century sonnet. They are gritty and plumb the depths of human despair, but surface again on the buoyancy of trust in a sovereign God who is unlike us in all the ways that matter.
One way this is highlighted in the Psalms is via the phrasing “as for me” and “as for You”, with the contrast often introduced solely with the word “but”. One place we see this is in Psalm 40. After a description of rescue from the Lord (“I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure.”, v1-3), the contrast is introduced in verse 11: “As for you, O Lord, you will not restrain your mercy from me; your steadfast love and your faithfulness will ever preserve me.” This sets the stage; the Lord is abundant in steadfast love and faithfulness, overflowing with unrestrained mercy. The contrast is completed in verse 17: “As for me, I am poor and needy.” One other place we see it is Psalm 102. The title of this begins to set the stage: “A prayer of one afflicted, when he is faint and pours out his complaint before the Lord.” This time the psalmist begins with a clear exposition of his own position, comparing himself to an evening shadow, a lonely sparrow on the housetop, the grass that withers. The contrast kicks in at verse 12: “But you, O Lord, are enthroned forever…” and continues on throughout the remainder of the chapter.
I don’t know about you, but I’m ok with this contrast, however far beyond my comprehension the Lord is and however uncomfortable that can make me at times. We all have times when we recognize just how poor and needy and incapable we are; in the midst of those times, we don’t need someone who’s a little less poor, a little less needy, with a little more power. We need a God rich in mercy and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, and that is the Lord whom we serve.
The next time you’re reading in the Psalms, keep an eye out for contrasts like these; they’re far from the only two. It puts things back in perspective, fostering a right view of who we are, and who the Lord is, and such a correction to our thinking is never unneeded.