You make the dawn and sunset sing for joy. (Ps 65.8b

There is something inside of all of us that draws us to sunrises and sunsets. I was in Boston the other day out along the Charles river running as sunset approached and there were many people out sitting with their faces towards the setting sun. They were waiting for sunset. In Key West people gather every night at the west end of the key to watch the sun set.

This verse precludes any notion of materialism—the notion that sunrises and sunsets and their vibrant beauty comes from a series of random events that set (somehow!) the universe and all there is in proper order. God brings the dawn. God makes the sunset sing with a magical pallet of blue and purple, orange and red. Every sunset is unique, every sunrise brand new and never before seen. God—master painter extraordinaire—is at work granting us a gift which is soon gone, only to be replaced soon thereafter by another. But Gerard Manley Hopkins as said it much better than me:

 

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

 

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