When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and the stars you have set in their courses,
What is man that you should be mindful of him?
the son of man that you should seek him out?
You have made him but a little lower than the angels;
you adorn him with glory and honor.
You give him mastery over the works of your hands;
you put all things under his feet.
All sheep and oxen,
even the wild beasts of the field,
The birds of the air, the fish of the sea,
and whatsoever walks in the paths of the sea.
O Lord our Governor,
how exalted is your Name in all the world!
Grace is one of those church words that is hard to grasp. We hear it a lot in sermons and use it often in casual conversation, such as By the grace of God I wasn't in that accident! (By the way, that comment seems like a total misinterpretation of the meaning of grace.)
Psalm 8 was appointed for October 7, and as I prepared to rehearse the musical setting with the choir it abruptly dawned on me that here is grace, as defined by the psalmist. A gift, deserved or not, freely given. And what a gift, to be a meaningful part of creation, no matter how small I feel.