Poems and Psalms 1. "What a piece of work is man?"

Readings, Gen 1:1-19 and Psalm 8
Image, Sean Layh, The tragicall historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke (2026)

In the century and a half before the birth of Christ, two significant Rabbis lived, taught, and developed schools. These were Rabbi Hillel and Rabbi Shammai. Hillel is famous for a story, where a gentile interested in converting to Judaism comes to the Rabbi and (in order to prove his seriousness) declared that he would stand on one foot while learning the whole of the Torah. Rabbi Hillel responded: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbour. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation of this—go and study it!”
 
Anyway, the two schools formed by their distinct Rabbis entered many conversations which remain recorded in the Talmud. One of which, is this:
For two-and-a-half years, the School of Shammai and the School of Hillel debated. These said, ‘It is better for man not to have been created than to have been created’; and these said, ‘It is better for man to have been created than not to have been created.’ Talmud, Eruvin 13b
 
Now, in part this debate is based in broader views on the order of creation, distinctions between spirit and matter, and the purpose of commandments. But it also reflects a deeper response to the wickedness of humanity and the wreckage wrought by human sin. This concern was not introduced by the rabbis, but finds precedence way back in Genesis:
The Lord saw that the wickedness of humankind was great in the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart. Genesis 6:5-6.
God, it seems from this passage, has misgivings about the place of humanity in the picture of creation. Where in Genesis 1, the creation of the humans is something of the crowning achievement (the sole very good) here, six chapters later, the evil of humanity grieves God, right down to the heart.
 
A fortnight ago I went to hear cultural critic Fran Leibowitz in conversation at the Opera House. Leibowitz, with characteristic wit and pessimism responded to a question about hope for humanity with (something like) this:
I have no hope for humanity, humanity is a terrible species. Every problem on earth, you know who is responsible – humans. You don’t look at a problem in the world today and say, Oh, you know whose responsible for this… the giraffes! 
 
We might say then, that from Genesis, through to the present, the jury is out on whether the creation of humankind was for the best. We might like to appeal to the wonders of art and architecture, the capacity for care and community, heroism and sacrifice, or technological marvels across history as testament to the goodness and value of humankind… but if we do that, we must test the scale against the violence and exploitation, the division and apathy, the power squabbles and political machinations, the pollution and greed.
 
Which brings us to this series: poems and psalms. Over six-weeks we will bring poems and psalms together to consider the human condition, the nature of God, and the pursuit of meaning and value in the world.
 
Today, we start with something that is perhaps only technically a poem. Hamlet’s what a piece of work is man speech drawn from Shakespeare’s play.

​Hamlet, in this moment, speaks of his growing disenchantment with all things. A disenchantment that has tainted his view of creation at large, and humanity in particular. In language resembling both the opening of Genesis and Psalm 8, Hamlet observes:
I have of late – but
wherefore I know not-- lost all my mirth, forgone all
custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame, the
earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most
excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave
o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted
with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to
me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours.
What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!
how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how
express and admirable! in action how like an angel!
in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the
world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me,
what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not
me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling
you seem to say so.
 
In the first instance, Hamlet valorises: creation is the excellent canopy, the majestical roof, the golden fire; the human is noble in reason, infinite in faculty, in action like an angel, in apprehension like a god, the beauty of the world! It is hard to find a more appreciative and eloquent summation of the artistry of God’s creation with the human as its crescendo. And yet, all this is established to emphasise his present sorrow. The higher the heights the longer the fall. For all that might be said of the dazzling sky: it is now nothing but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. For all that might be said about the human person: a quintessence of dust.
 
Many, I wager, can relate. This ping-ponging between acknowledging the wonders of the world without feeling any great awe or satisfaction is something that occurs within most of us (at least from time to time). We can probably relate as well, to looking at the world and thinking: with all the gifts given to humanity, how is this the world we have? A world of mountains and meadows where we are forced to spend most of our time working in front of a computer in order to eat. This world of creativity and passion, being overrun by AI slop. This world of possibility and connection, being torn apart by war and hatred. It is easy to, like Prince Hamlet, see the failings of those around him (and perhaps also within himself), and despair… what good is all the good, when it is cast in the shadow of so much wrong?
 
As I said before, Hamlet’s words echo Psalm 8. For the psalmist similarly affirms the wonder of creation: which reflects the works of God’s fingers and displays God’s glory; and the loftiness of the human person: who are made a little lower than God, and crowned with glory and honour. And if this was all the psalm was about (which is nothing to turn our nose up at) it would have to stand – and perhaps fall – against the same measurement as Hamlet’s speech and the rabbis discourse… that is we would have to test this view of the human against the reality of human sin.
 
However, that is what would need to happen if the psalmist proclaimed what they thought of the human. But this is not what the psalm is about. Rather than concerning what we think about creation, or what we think about the human… these valorising words are responding to a very specific question asked to God: what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?
 
The psalm is not about who is the human in abstraction… but who is the human to God… or even, more profoundly, who God is to the human. Because that little line, what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them? Contains within its inquiry a confession as to the nature of God. Who is God? God is the one who is mindful of human beings, God is the one who cares for the human. Whatever human beings are (and whatever we might think about humanity and its worth or potential on any given day) this is what we are to God: objects of care and attention.

God is the one who has made humanity just a little lower than a god (or in God’s own image to take the language of Genesis 1). God is the one who crowns the human being with glory and honour (and fills the human with God’s own breath, to take the language of Genesis 2). God is the one who gifts humanity purpose and standing within the whole created order (to take the language of both Genesis accounts). Because, first and foremost God is mindful of and cares for humanity.
 
Hamlet is right on two accounts. First, human beings contain complexity – they can be both the beauty of the world and quintessence of dust. Humans are capable both of writing something like Hamlet and performing the kinds of backstabbing and betrayal that are found in Hamlet. But whatever humanity is capable of, whatever history and potential that is contained or squandered within our species, God can sculpt and mould us into meaning and purpose and hope. God can pierce and awaken, and provide through the example of Christ and the power of the Spirit a way toward a life crowned with glory and honour.
 
And second, Hamlet is right to recognise that we can, suddenly and without discernible reason lose our capacity to see the goodness in that which surrounds and envelopes us. But the psalm reminds us that God is not so changeable. God, does not change how God feels toward creation and the human being. Because, as God spoke to the prophet Hosea, I am God and not a man (Hos 11). Whatever misgivings God has over the creation of the human in Genesis 6, the ultimate emphasis of that story is its endpoint: the covenant with Noah, the eternal promise that God shall not annihilate or cast off, not forsake or hate what God hath made. The rainbow which reminds us of this covenant is a well-chosen sign, appearing as it does on the heels of grey and gloomy skies.
 
What a piece of work is man? Well, all manner of things, all the way from paragon to dust – this is true. But first and foremost, foundationally, the human is that which God is mindful of – made in God’s loving image, by God’s loving hands and breath. What are human beings? Well, they are capable of great marvels and unspeakable evil – this is true. But first and foremost, and foundationally, human beings are those whom God cares about, covenants with, and crowns with glory and honour. And it is in this view of the human – God’s view of the human – that we find meaning, hope, and purpose.
 
But more still, we think of the words of the carol: pleased as man with man to dwell… or, in another version, pleased as human flesh to dwell, Jesus, our Emmanuel. The worth, wonder, and standing of the human is given final seal and significance in the Incarnation. Where God becomes fully human, born of woman to live among us and for us. What a piece of work is man? First and last, we are that which God became and dwelt with so as to redeem and make divine. What are human beings? Those God is with.