[intro] [Twentieth-Century Continental Reformed Sermon] [Basel cathedral or prison acoustic — austere stone and wood] [Single sustained low cello note underneath, very sparse] [Faint stone-and-wood ambient] [Preacher — warm German-accented English baritone, measured, patient dialectical engagement] Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, we come this evening to Psalm nineteen. This is a psalm that has been read in many ways across the centuries, and not all of those ways have been faithful to what the psalm actually says. We must approach it with care. The psalm opens with words that have been treated as the foundation of what is called natural theology. The heavens declare the glory of God. And the firmament sheweth his handywork. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night sheweth knowledge. [SECTION ONE — What the Heavens Do Not Declare] [Cello note sustained] [Preacher — patient, dialectical, deliberate] I must say something to you here that you may not expect. The heavens, dear friends, do not declare to us what is sometimes claimed they declare. The heavens do not declare that human beings are essentially good. The heavens do not declare that we may, by careful observation of nature, arrive at saving knowledge of God without the gospel of Jesus Christ. The heavens do not declare that our religious feeling, our moral conscience, our cultural achievements, add up to a path toward God that runs parallel to revelation. These are the claims of natural religion, and natural religion is not Christianity. What then do the heavens declare? They declare the glory of God. Not human glory. Not the dignity of human reason which can read the book of nature. Not the religious capacities of the human soul which can ascend from creation to Creator. They declare the glory of the God who is wholly other than ourselves. The God who made the heavens is not a function of human longing. The heavens testify to a God who stands over against us, who is not us, who is not produced by our religious imagination, who confronts us from beyond the boundary of what we can produce out of our own resources. This is the first thing the psalm teaches us. And it is already a hard word for the humanist temper of our age. [SECTION TWO — The Wordless Witness] [Cello note steady] [Preacher — measured, building] Now the psalm makes a curious observation. There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard. The witness of the heavens is wordless. It is communicated everywhere on earth, but it is communicated without words. What does this mean? Some have read this verse as evidence that all peoples can come to knowledge of the true God through the universal language of creation. This is the natural-religion reading. And it is wrong. The verse is saying something else. The heavens testify wordlessly to the glory of God. But this wordless testimony is not yet the gospel. It is not yet the saving word. It is the testimony of glory that leaves humanity without excuse — as the apostle Paul says in Romans one — but it does not itself bring salvation. The salvation comes only when the word that the heavens speak without language is finally spoken with language. And that language is Jesus Christ, the eternal Word made flesh, who is the actual content of what the heavens have been declaring since the foundation of the world. The heavens testify, dear friends. But what they testify becomes audible to human beings only when God himself speaks in Jesus Christ. [end]