I didn’t need to step outside today to perceive the weather, for all of my fellow Facebook meteorologists have aptly observed that there is indeed precipitation in late June in California.
While the weather is somewhat odd, it isn’t completely unusual; on June 4th in 2011, this area had a 1/4 inch of rain. In fact, June featured nearly an inch of precipitation in 2011 — comparatively, we’ve had zero this month up to today.
But the now is always shocking, while what happened before is soon forgotten, explained away as an anomaly or mere statistic, or maybe just an ill-conceived memory of something that perhaps never existed.
I am uncertain if it is the condition of humanity or the gradual deterioration of our memory, but humans seem to forget the things of God as time passes. The extraordinary and wondrous events we once marveled at become normal because they’re “explainable” or seemingly inconsequential.
After a short rainfall last evening, a huge rainbow presented itself, and my wife’s younger siblings raced outside to behold it, elated to see its splendid colors and grand arch perfectly stretching across the sky. My wife then asked me if I would like to see it as well, and I shrugged. I’d seen it before.
Perhaps this is why we ignore God, or even explain Him away as superstition or a way to cope. You’ve already seen it all, you say. There’s scientific proof, you say. Yet the splendor itself remains.
When do we start forgetting the splendor of the Lord? Job 37, at the surface being a condescending reply to Job’s purported ignorance of his sin, is rich with reminders of God’s imprint on this earth. Elihu begins describing His majesty at the end of the previous chapter, and then begins in the first verse of 37 by saying about the thunder that, “At this my heart trembles, and leaps from this place.”
Does God still have this resounding impact on your heart? Does His voice, the thunderous and earth-shaking reality of His presence, still penetrate your conscience and spirit? Perhaps it is this suggestion that we need to hear:
Listen to this, O Job;
Stand still and consider the wondrous works of God.
I confess that I am not often perceptive, that I do not stand still long enough. My inclination is to move on to the next thing, to charge into the next task at hand, leaving a vapor trail behind me where the Lord Himself provided the fuel and propulsion.
I wonder how many more of God’s people do likewise, experiencing church on Sunday but leaving the Lord in a sound system or praise refrain, or worse, at the steps to the door you carried His Word through and began your weekly religious practices.
My friends, the Lord is not an experience. He is not limited to an emotional high; He is not manifested in our contrived environments and giddy assemblies singing to a crescendo of praise. He is all and everything, and then beyond even this lofty thought. He is within and the cause of a million supernovae, and at the same time resides in the desperate last breath of a dying man. We cannot control Him, and we cannot contain Him.
I believe that, once we perceive a glimpse of this understanding, our awe for God shall be renewed, and much more so the great delicate nature of His Son on our tiny planet, who, through the great power of the Lord, conquered the insurmountable force of death and paved a way for us to salvation.
I encourage you today to behold the mighty and majestic power of God, who spans light years of distance and nanoseconds of time, yet intricately saves our individual souls through the blood of His Son Jesus Christ. Amen.