Canticle - Revelation 15:3-4
Hymn of adoration
Mighty and wonderful are your works,
Lord God Almighty!
Righteous and true are your ways,
O King of the nations!
Who would dare refuse you honor,
or the glory due your name, O Lord?
Since you alone are holy,
all nations shall come and worship in your presence.
Your mighty deeds are clearly seen.
The hymn from Liturgy of the hours tonight is a wonderful ode to the awesome evenings both last night and tonight. When I arrived last evening the wind was blowing hard in from the east which is very rare for our part of the world. An east or north wind promises the imminent arrival a cold front. Were it during the time from late fall through early spring, such winds would be ominous and those who were aware of what such winds might bring might become nervous or slide into edginess. Ranchers would certainly make an extra check or two of the stock and to make sure there was ample food on hand and wood laid away in case the weather might take a bad turn with the arrival of snow.
During this time of the year, late spring headed for summer in a couple of weeks, east winds also give warning to the arrival of cold front but instead of snow or freezing cold, the temperatures might only drop a few degrees from one day to the next but could also bring a band of moisture into the area which would generate some storms here and there.
The wind puffed up to a 30-knot blow with wind spray blowing off the crests of the broken wave caps. The waves rolled up to as high as 3 feet which is an impressive showing for a midsized inland lake. No boats could be seen in any direction and the sign of life was a single pelican who drifted by driven downwind as if he were being carried by an unseen motor.
A series of muscly cumulonimbus clouds tried to punch up to the 40 thousand level so they could become full-fledged thunderstorms but the setting sun drained away their power leaving them to stretch up in the sky along the northwest horizon over the Big Belt Mountains on the far side of light. The sun bathed them with failing light minting their whiteness into shiny gold and yellow. They slowly deflated like sad balloons after a long party and broke up into scattered gray tufts after the light faded away.
3 or more thousand years ago the ancient Hebrews prayed: "Mighty and wonderful are your works, Lord God Almighty!" Throughout all of the cascading centuries right down this moment 2 millennia after the time of Christ, we still pray the same Psalm and pray for the same reason and our awe at the wonder of his works remains undimmed.
We talk often of being darkness and being called into the light. Last night and tonight when the wind blows with nearly the same vigor except tonight is comes in from the more common direction of the south, I have sat and been pulled out of myself into the failing light.
A nearly full moon brightened from a nearly transparent white splotch hidden among tattered fast flying white clouds into brilliant beach ball size. Gulls made final surveys up and down the beach, flying together like a bunch of young toughs surveying their neighborhood for one more thing to investigate before settling down to roost down the beach. As the wind died down they would move out to the lake to drift in a flock in the safety of the open water.
Right as the sun dropped behind the Elkhorn's behind me, a pair of nighthawks made their first appearance of the year but their flight was buffeted by the still strong breeze. There no bugs flying out over the watery buffet table either last night or tonight. There was just too much window. The nighthawks disappeared after a few minutes. The tree swallows that roost in the magnificent giant cottonwood tree nearby were silent and perched deep within the branches and were virtually silent. I missed their messy, cheerful harmonies.
Tonight as we bow into the darkness, our heads tucked low to miss the still sharp wind, more is revealed. Colors shift into pastels and watercolors and sharp edges soften. A planet shows up low on the southeastern horizon. Green and seemingly large, it must be Jupiter. Lights from a house across the lake begin to blink to existence and twinkle and the airport beacon begins to search the sky.
The waves have begun to flatten some and the rush of the wind started to subside. The setting sun seems to have robbed the wind of its power. Indeed in a couple of hours time, the lake will most likely be glassy smooth enough reflect the stars and moon as it did last night.
We pray: "Who would dare refuse you honor, or the glory due your name, O Lord?" Truly who could look at the wonders he has created and understand the gift we have been given to appreciate wonders and not offer him praise, honor, and glory? Not I. No tonight. Not last night.
Even now as the last of light surrenders to the night, his deeds are clearly seen.
No comments:
Post a Comment