24 O Lord, how manifold are your works!
In wisdom you have made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.
25 Yonder is the sea, great and wide,
creeping things innumerable are there,
living things both small and great.
26 There go the ships,
and Leviathan that you formed to sport in it.27 These all look to you
to give them their food in due season;
28 when you give to them, they gather it up;
when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.
29 When you hide your face, they are dismayed;
when you take away their breath, they die
and return to their dust.
30 When you send forth your spirit,* they are created;
and you renew the face of the ground.
31 May the glory of the Lord endure for ever;
may the Lord rejoice in his works—
32 who looks on the earth and it trembles,
who touches the mountains and they smoke.
33 I will sing to the Lord as long as I live;
I will sing praise to my God while I have being.
34 May my meditation be pleasing to him,
for I rejoice in the Lord.
35 Bless the Lord, O my soul. Praise the Lord!
-Psalm 104:24-34, 35b
Psalm 104 is a love story: a Divine love so complete and so encompassing that it lays the foundation for the cosmos, yet also so…intimate that it provides the energy for all living things to flourish and thrive: every bird, every donkey, everything, everywhere. The picture painted here, especially by the verses of the Psalm not included in the lectionary reading (Psalm 104:1-23) is an astonishing vision of the ubiquity of the Creator within their creation, directly immersed within the moment-by-moment dance of life in its most intimate, even quotidian – eating, drinking, growing, building, nesting: these are the tasks of home and family. Divine empathy for daily life, in its glorious diversity, for everything that is alive.
Before we explore the world of Psalm 104, I must note that I think it’s a shame these verses aren’t included, as they lay the foundation for the image of the Divine in Psalm 104:24-35 who rejoices in their works – as these are the works verse 24 is talking about.
This is a passage whose meaning is not overshadowed by its content, or even its poetry: when verse 14 states that God causes the grass to grow, that inevitably means that the Divine loves each. individual. blade. of. grass. Each molecule of water that quenches the thirst of every wild animal (Psalm 104:11) was given by the Divine to every single wild animal in creation.
Yet, we find the intimate in the seemingly, impossibly, grand stage of the planets in their courses as well. The light that filters through each window and feeds every leaf is also the clothing that wraps the Divine. The ground we rest the foundations of our lives (and of our buildings) upon is also the earth whose foundations were set by – and are dependent upon – the Divine. The creek that gently waters a field of crops, provides a backdrop for the nests of birds, and slakes the thirst of deer and buffalo and antelope, is fed by the chaotic waters of creation, disciplined and dammed by the Divine: The roaring water channelled, turning chaos into life.
The cycles of life in which we are all embedded, and within which we are rooted, the cycles that are as innate to us as waking and sleep, are themselves dependent on the Divine energy that gives life and movement to the planets and the sun. These daily rhythms give us purpose, a reason to exist: the sun provides a reason for humanity to labour, while the moon provides the proper setting for predators to do their own work. The intimate and individual are inextricably wound with the cosmic and comprehensive in the Divine creation, as interdependent consequences of each other, where the Divine’s majesty is as present in the towering earth of mountains as in the goats that make their home in the skies.
These are the manifold works Psalm 104:24 delights in. Yes, the Divine created every molecule of the sea, and is so astonishingly powerful that even the Leviathan – that embodiment of terror – is but a plaything before the Divine (Psalm 104:25-26). However, God also feeds good things to each of us from their own hand, breathing life and their Spirit into each of us (Psalm 104:27-30) until the cycle of life turns, and it is our time to return our life to the earth. This is the glory of the Lord that must endure forever: the same God whose face spies earth and smoke across the mountains is the same God whose face gives me – just little ol’ me – comfort and purpose (Psalm 104:31-32). No wonder the Psalmist feels so bubbly with excitement at the astonishing beauty of this ubiquitous, yet individual, Divine and their creation! I mean, if this were the vision you held of the Divine love embodied in creation, I could easily imagine you wanting to do nothing but rejoice and sing praises (Psalm 104:33-35).
The implications of this for the relationship between humanity and the Divine are profound, therefore. The Divine isn’t out “there” somewhere, in some cosmic heaven; instead, their presence is as close to you as…you. When the Divine is everything and everyone everywhere, then everything, everyone, and everywhere all become sacred, as they are infused with what we Quakers call the Light, the central metaphor in Quaker thought for the Divine presence, “that of God” present in everyone who continually calls out to all to listen to their voice – a grand equalizer that can speak to child and President alike, even (and especially) those who seem hell-bent on silencing that same voice.
Interconnectedness builds upon first seeing the good in others, leading to seeing God in all of creation. This involves acknowledging that whilst persons may exist whose free will is so twisted that it has turned evil, they cannot disavow the good Spirit which resides within them. There is thus no gulf between the holy Divine and sinful creation, as God is continually present, at all times and places, in the entirety of creation.
Human beings are thus created by God as inherently social and relational, made to be in relationship with each other and with God. As social beings, therefore, human beings cannot exist outside of the relationships they have with both God and others. It is in relation to persons and personal community that the concept of God is formed.
One cannot speak of God, therefore, without implying community as well as person, for neither community nor person exists without God, or each other. The community lives within the person, and the person within the community, with the Divine energy as the force which gives it purpose and meaning. This framework of interdependence sets the paradigm for the existence of creation, therefore, where creation is interdependent with itself.
This is also a rejection of the dualism of the “wholly-other” God and a sinful, broken humanity. As God made creation in God’s image, the creation must reflect the image of God. In this way, interdependence melds the diverse interconnectivity of humanity with the diverse interconnectivity of the Divine. The result is a human identity where each unique, finite human is interconnected with all of humanity, as well as with the infinite Divine. This interconnectivity is truly interdependent, as human beings possess an innate desire that can only be fulfilled by human community, coupled with a deep relationship to the Divine.
Forces of division and difference act violently, by undermining the interdependence of the divine/human and human/human relationship, and thus undermining the fabric of existence. Sin is thus separation from others. This separation involves a rejection of the unification that all people experience with each other, in turn separating human beings from God. Sin can be understood to deny the values which give shape and meaning to the community. Sin is living according to one’s own individual desires: loyal to self, as opposed to God. As God is communal, and as the creation reflects God, to sin is to deny one’s place in the community of creation, and of God. This vision of sin does not seek to punish a fallen humanity. Instead, it stresses that God always desires union with the creation, bringing it into the divine life.
As we see in Psalm 104, the Divine is continuously acting to repair the damage caused by these forces of violence, however, reasserting the fundamental interdependence of all existence. This demands a vision of the human person that is communal, where through the actions and being of God, each individual person is already reconciled to God as well as to the entirety of the creation itself. God therefore bridges the divine/human divide through the interpenetration of the Divine throughout the entirety of the creation.
We are thus in a relationship whose rhythms shape and form both creation and Divine, gathering us into a community of mutuality – not the distant and disciplinarian hierarchy demanded by patriarchal readings of God often mirrored in patriarchal societies by power and supremacy fantasies. As illustration, I offer the recent rocket-speed race to the bottom that is the boom of the concept of the “sin of empathy”, a warmed-over retread of patriarchal and supremacist frameworks such as “Social Darwinism” and strong-man authoritarianism. This makes crystal clear sense from the perspective of fantasies of power and absolute independence.
It always astonishes me when people claim not only the superiority of these hierarchical dependency narratives, but also dismiss narratives of interdependence and equality and vulnerability as false, somehow, despite the fact that they exist throughout the Jewish and Christian Bibles – although, at this point I really don’t know why I’m surprised. When Christians can somehow maul, manipulate, and maim the Divine image to such a complete degree that God is reduced to the insipid and stupid task of caring for one nation alone (whether Nazism or Christian nationalism), it’s excessively easy to ignore anything outside of the prison you’ve incarcerated the Divine within.
This makes pretty obvious sense once you realise that our ignorance (and ignoring) of God’s true reality – as interconnected with creation – is the reason why so many of these narratives are so hollow: empty calories that feed our ego and nothing else. These stories do not tell a true story of God, meaning that any who hear them do not have a clear idea of what it means to be an image of God – which will always be incomprehensible to us until we finally, finally begin to see – and respond empathetically – to the image of God in every. other. person. around. us.
Yes, everyone, from the dizzying variety of life in the sea to the ocean of diversity amongst humanity. How manifold your works, O Lord, how mighty! Bless the Lord, indeed.
Dear Dr. Randazzo, I alwas enjoy your articles because they address issues with a different perspective than most people offer on the subject. However with your latest article on the connectedness of humanity and creation, you have moved me outside of the boundries of my imagination.
Here are some thoughts that emerged after I read you article.
The concept of interconnectedness between humanity and creation has been a recurring theme across philosophies, religions, and scientific discourses for centuries. This interconnectedness suggests that humans are not isolated entities but are intrinsically linked to the larger fabric of existence, encompassing nature, the universe, and even abstract dimensions of creation such as art, thought, and culture. To ponder its validity and consider what might lie beyond it requires both introspection and a willingness to confront the boundaries of understanding.
At the heart of this concept lies the idea that humanity is but one thread in the grand tapestry of existence. Every action, thought, and creation has the potential to ripple outward, impacting ecosystems, societies, and even future generations. We breathe the oxygen produced by forests, drink water shaped by ancient geological processes, and thrive in ecosystems that rely on the delicate balance of countless species. On another level, our creativity—manifested in art, literature, and technology—builds upon the inspirations and legacies left by those who came before us.
Scientific understanding reinforces this interconnectedness. The study of ecosystems reveals webs of life where each species, no matter how small, plays a crucial role. Quantum physics highlights the entanglement of particles across vast distances, suggesting that even on the smallest scale, the universe thrives on interrelation. Philosophically, thinkers like Baruch Spinoza and Alan Watts posited that humanity and the cosmos are not separate but are different expressions of the same underlying reality.
Spiritual traditions, too, speak of this unity. Indigenous knowledge systems often emphasize the sacred relationship between humans and the Earth, viewing life as a circle where every being has its role. Similarly, Eastern philosophies such as Taoism and Buddhism frame existence as an interconnected flow of energy, where distinctions between the self and the world ultimately dissolve.
If the interconnectedness of humanity and creation is a valid concept, one might ask: what could exist outside of this web? To address this question, we must first define the boundaries of interconnectedness. Does it encompass only the tangible, physical realms, or does it also extend to the metaphysical and symbolic?
One possibility is that “outside” interconnectedness lies the unknowable—the realm of phenomena and realities that human consciousness cannot perceive or comprehend. This could include dimensions of existence that are fundamentally alien to human experience, such as the pure chaos or void hypothesized in some cosmological theories. Alternatively, some might argue that what lies outside interconnectedness is not a separate entity but a conceptual framework—a lens through which the interrelations themselves are understood.
Another perspective is that outside of interconnectedness lies isolation, though such a state may only exist hypothetically. Complete isolation, where an entity is entirely independent of any external influence, is difficult to imagine. Even in the vacuum of space, particles and energy interact. If isolation does exist, it may be akin to the “singularity” before the Big Bang—an undivided, incomprehensible unity that gives rise to interconnectedness itself.
Ultimately, the question of interconnectedness and its limits may not be one of objective truth but of perspective. Seeing the world through the lens of connection fosters empathy, environmental stewardship, and a sense of shared purpose. It encourages humanity to acknowledge its place within a larger whole, rather than positioning itself as a master separate from creation.
At the same time, acknowledging what might exist “outside” of interconnectedness challenges us to remain humble. It reminds us that the universe is vast and mysterious, and that our understanding, no matter how profound, is always partial. Perhaps the most meaningful response to this dual inquiry is to embrace both—cherishing the ties that bind us while remaining open to the infinite possibilities that lie beyond.
The interconnectedness of humanity and creation is a concept that resonates deeply across disciplines and traditions. It invites us to see ourselves as participants in a larger, dynamic system, where every being and action holds significance. Yet, the exploration of what exists outside this interconnectedness pushes us to confront the boundaries of our perception and understanding. Whether through science, philosophy, or spiritual contemplation, this dual inquiry shapes a richer, more nuanced view of existence—one that celebrates both the unity of all things and the endless mysteries that invite us to keep seeking.
Once again,thak you for pushimg the boundries of our limited minds.