Watching the East--December 2, 2021

Watching the East--December 2, 2021

It's not usually in my nature just to come out and overtly tell people what to do (unless it's my kids and there are coats and shoes left on the floor, because, come on).  But in this case, I feel a direct personal instruction is warranted: tomorrow morning, go and watch the skies at sunrise.

Whatever else needs to happen in order to make that possible, do it.  Set an alarm if you have to (sunrise isn't terribly early at this time of year, but maybe you'll need to get up extra early to take care of morning chores ahead of the dawn).  Grab your coat and hat if you are able to go outside and watch.  Clean the windows if you'll be watching from inside.  Clear your schedule and clear your mind for the minutes it will take to watch for the lightening in the east.  Whatever it takes, just do it.

Watch the sunrise.

And let the act of watching help stretch your spiritual muscles to embody hope.

Why?  What will happen?  I mean, sure, I know you already know how the "plot" of a sunrise works.  Spoiler alert:  dark become light.  Night becomes day.  Of course, you already know factually what will happen.  But there is something important about what happens to us in the act of watching it unfold, even if you know what the ending will be.  There is beauty to be taken in.  There are colors that emerge that don't fit any of the categories of the crayon box.  There is the sound that rises up, too, as the chirping of birds grows like a chorus along with the light, or as the morning routines of the neighbors' houses are audible in the background.  Watch the world--your world, your local immediate place on earth--come to life, as the sun comes up over the horizon.

Now, step back from that for a moment, and let's think about the logic of watching a sunrise when you already know "what's going to happen."  It's not about mere information.  It's not about needing to "find out how it ends," or about getting an advance clue on how the rest of the day will go.  You already know, right from the title of the time of day--"sunrise"--what is going to happen. You know the sun is going to illuminate everything your eyes can see, even if it's a cloudy day. You aren't there staring up at the sky for new facts, but to participate in the beauty as it unfolds.  Just having someone tell you, "It was dark, and now it's not," isn't the same as living it, experiencing it, witnessing it--and somehow participating in the start of a new day.  There's a way in which you feel connected with all the rest of creation when you watch the sun come up, like you and the neighbor and the birds and the deer scrambling for cover in the tree line and the whole heavenly host are all sharing something together.  The way you participate in coming more fully to life as the light breaks over the tops of houses and trees and hills--that's more than just the end product of "it was daytime at the end."  It matters to be a part of it, even though you know how it will turn out in advance while it is still dark.

That's every day of our lives as Good-News-people, too.  That's what it is to live in gospel hope.  We are people who know how the story ends--a new day, and a new creation!  But we don't stay indoors and miss out just because we know how the story goes.  We are invited with every day to participate in the transformation from gloom to glory, from night to dawn, and to see ourselves connected to the whole creation that is longing for that newness along with us.  Every day is a chance to watch, wait, and notice as signs of God's in-breaking Reign appear before our eyes.  It's like every day of our lives as Christians is the chance to watch the sunrise... and yet, all too often, we either ignore it or refuse to live like the sky is changing colors before our eyes.  What a shame it is to miss a sunrise's brilliant palette of colors because our vision is too focused on a TV screen, or scrolling on our phones, or buried in some other empty distraction.  And yet, what a gift it is when you happen to catch the sky at just the right moment to see the clouds turning bright red, orange, yellow, and purple as they reflect the sun's light and welcome the day.

So maybe we can see every day in the same terms, too.  We know that at the last, God is victorious over all the powers of rottenness and evil.  We know that new creation is in store for all heaven and earth.  We know that Jesus' coming in glory is not up for debate, eligible for repeal, or susceptible to an expiration.  And we know that in the promised fullness of God's Reign, weapons are broken apart to become farming tools, old animosities are reconciled, debts are cancelled, wrongs are set right, and justice is done.  But Christians aren't supposed to just keep that trapped in our head like facts to be memorized, any more than we just learn the factual outcome of a sunrise ("The day begins. The end."). We aren't meant to keep our hope bottled up and get swept along with this violent, greedy, self-centered world, while we wait to be rescued up to heaven after we die.  We are meant to share in the beauty of the world's transformation right now. Just like there is something so much more powerful about witnessing the sunrise and sharing the moment with all the creatures, clouds, and community around you as the day dawns, we are meant to share right now in the ways God is bringing forth new creation.  We are meant to be like those clouds at the edge of the horizon that first catch the rays of the sun before its light breaks over the horizon, as living signposts of what is to come.  Your kindness, your generosity, your goodness, your willingness to seek what is just rather than what is merely in your self-interest, your striving to love neighbor, and your refusal to be dominated by fear or hatred--these will be the ways we show the world what is on the way.  We will be participants in the glorious color of the new day God is bringing about, and when people see that difference in us, it just might help call their attention to look up from their screens and doom-scrolling so they can be pulled into its beauty, too.

All that can unfold, at least in small ways, when we take the time to watch the sunrise and see it through the eyes of faith.

Lord God, open our eyes to the signs of your new day dawning, and let us be used to pull others into your glorious new creation, too.