20131027: I can see better in the clouded light today — the color shades don’t wash out in the blaze (do our shades wash out in the blaze of God’s glory?)
One of the collateral effects (benefits? drawbacks?) of living in Central Texas is that sunlight here is generally strong. The sky is brilliant blue, the sun’s rays coat the skin, each outdoor object gains its own sharp shadow. Even pebbles.
The sunlight is often so intense that it bounces back from every surface. Even though every thing is illuminated, they are each extremely hard to see. The sun becomes an overwhelming presence, and so washes out everything beneath it. Color becomes nothing in the all-color of light.
In Central Texas, it’s easier to see after the clouds come. The light is a fraction of its usual self, and our eyes manage the world much better.
On that October day, I was thinking about Moses, about one of the days he was up on Mount Sinai with YHWH our God. On this day, Moses had gotten God to show God’s-self to him…partly. Because God’s glory is so overwhelming no one can look on it and live. The sun of Central Texas a million times over.
So would our individual pebble-selves blur and bleach in that impossible light,
so that all that could be seen would be God?
Or would our human, God-created colors stand out in the way we always do,
because the Creator sees all things, knows all things, and night is as day to him?
I think it depends on who’s doing the looking.
If the eyes are ours, then it is right and proper that everything else fades away as we stand to watch God pass by. For we know from Scripture that every knee will bow and every tongue confess God’s glory. What else would we need to see?
Next time you’re outside, and the sunlight blazes so hard your eyes try to screw themselves shut, pause. Remember God’s mercy, and God’s compassion, as you think about God’s goodness passing by.
PS: Because I delight in juxtaposing not-actually-related things, today’s title comes from the hysterically funny piece “I Work From Home.” Your brain has been working extra-hard, trying to generate a connection. If you made one, congratulations! Even if you haven’t, I’ve just extended your life. You’re welcome!
One thought on ““It feels so bright on my face.””
Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God,
But only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.
–Elizabeth Barrett Browning