A Beautiful Sunrise
I was out at a rustic old cabin made out of a barn one weekend for a retreat and something beautiful was shown to me by God. To give a little foundation to this story, this barn is out in the middle of the Kansas country, so the surrounding land is fairly flat; there's a few hills here and there, but for the most part, the skyline is level all the way around the house. And in this house, at the top of the roof, there is a small coop that has windows on all sides of it so you can survey the surrounding country from an elevated position. So one morning, before anyone else was awake, I went up into this coop to look at the sunrise (which, if you're from Kansas, or somewhere where the horizon is unadulterated by a lot of man made clutter, you know that sunrises can be spectacular. So I went up to look at the sunrise this particular morning, but was disappointed when I looked out. The sun was indeed coming up, but there was nothing else in the sky. It was just the sun trying to peek over the horizon. There were no clouds, no birds, nothing.
Before you begin scratching your head and pondering what might possibly be wrong with me that I could be disappointed with a crystal clear, blue skyed sunrise, allow me to explain. I am an artist, so I appreciate and, in fact, love scenes that are full of color and shape and line and texture, so my favorite sunrises (and sunsets) are those with clouds sharing the sky with the sun. So it follows that when I saw the sun alone in the sky, I was somewhat disappointed, though it was still a majestic sight to behold.
This made me think, as I was talking with one of my fellow retreaters. The most beautiful sunrises I've ever seen have been in a sky populated with clouds, puffy, jagged, fluffy, wispy clouds with surfaces to catch the suns red and yellow light filtering through the atmosphere, peeking over the globe. This was a novel thought. The sunrises that are most beautiful are the ones that happen when the sky is not perfect. When the sky contains blemishes and imperfections, when it is not crystal clear and pure open blue, the most beautiful sunrises are produced because the sun, of course, is there, but the clouds, reflecting the suns glorious light create a beautiful and captivating tapestry of color and light. With oranges and blues and reds and pinks and yellows, the sky seems to explode into a panorama of expression. I don't know about you, but when I look at a sunrise such as what I describe here, I am filled with a wonder at how such a thing could be created.
And as I was talking with my fellow retreater, I made the connection that I'd like to share with you. A sunrise is very much like us, as children of God, as brothers and sisters in Christ. Jesus is, no doubt, beautiful all by Himself. The Glory of God become man and perfected through trial and fire and pain, and shining from the inside out with the powerful and glorious light of God can be nothing other than beautiful. But much like a sunrise, as we enter the picture with Christ, we become part of his beautiful scene, as his light reflects off of us. But like the clouds in the sky, we are not perfect. We are not pure and spotless, free of blemish. We have jagged edges, fluffy parts, wispy parts, all parts that when Christ shines his light on us, catch and reflect it back to him and out into the world around us. It's our imperfections that make us beautiful. It's our failures and our weaknesses, and our shortcomings, and our blemishes that in the light of Christ become a tapestry of oranges and blues and reds and pinks and yellows that are capable of taking the breath away from those who see it. Jesus said it as he was talking to the apostle paul: In your weaknesses, my power is made perfect. You might say, in our weakness, in our imperfection, Christ's beauty is made perfect.
If we were all perfect, Christ work on the cross would not mean much, and our redemption would mean little if anything. To redeem a perfect creation, one not need do anything. But when a creature is utterly corrupted, when it has been soiled beyond repair and made vile in the site of its creator, when the created has been made unfit to even be in the presence of the creator and then it redeemed, restored to a right relationship and made to be one with the creator, that is beautiful beyond anything that we could ever see or experience in this world. It's our imperfections that make Christ beautiful in the eyes of unbelievers, of those who don't know Him. It's the fact that we have our faults, we have our downfalls and we have our shortcomings but still can claim and exhibit the life and beauty of Christ in us through His redemptive work on the cross that most beautifully and effectively exhibits his wondrous redemptive power, and the amazing and outrageous grace that flow from his wounded body.
So don't hide it, brothers. Don't cover it up Sisters. Don't sweep it under the rug and pretend like it isn't there. Bring it out into the Light and allow Christ's power to reflect off it and refract through it as He covers it with his blood. Bring your ugly bits out into the open, and watch in amazement as He transforms them into a beautiful Son rise amongst his creation. If you are a redeemed creature, you have nothing that is not covered. Come out into the Light, all of you, and be glorified by His wonderful light!
Before you begin scratching your head and pondering what might possibly be wrong with me that I could be disappointed with a crystal clear, blue skyed sunrise, allow me to explain. I am an artist, so I appreciate and, in fact, love scenes that are full of color and shape and line and texture, so my favorite sunrises (and sunsets) are those with clouds sharing the sky with the sun. So it follows that when I saw the sun alone in the sky, I was somewhat disappointed, though it was still a majestic sight to behold.
This made me think, as I was talking with one of my fellow retreaters. The most beautiful sunrises I've ever seen have been in a sky populated with clouds, puffy, jagged, fluffy, wispy clouds with surfaces to catch the suns red and yellow light filtering through the atmosphere, peeking over the globe. This was a novel thought. The sunrises that are most beautiful are the ones that happen when the sky is not perfect. When the sky contains blemishes and imperfections, when it is not crystal clear and pure open blue, the most beautiful sunrises are produced because the sun, of course, is there, but the clouds, reflecting the suns glorious light create a beautiful and captivating tapestry of color and light. With oranges and blues and reds and pinks and yellows, the sky seems to explode into a panorama of expression. I don't know about you, but when I look at a sunrise such as what I describe here, I am filled with a wonder at how such a thing could be created.
And as I was talking with my fellow retreater, I made the connection that I'd like to share with you. A sunrise is very much like us, as children of God, as brothers and sisters in Christ. Jesus is, no doubt, beautiful all by Himself. The Glory of God become man and perfected through trial and fire and pain, and shining from the inside out with the powerful and glorious light of God can be nothing other than beautiful. But much like a sunrise, as we enter the picture with Christ, we become part of his beautiful scene, as his light reflects off of us. But like the clouds in the sky, we are not perfect. We are not pure and spotless, free of blemish. We have jagged edges, fluffy parts, wispy parts, all parts that when Christ shines his light on us, catch and reflect it back to him and out into the world around us. It's our imperfections that make us beautiful. It's our failures and our weaknesses, and our shortcomings, and our blemishes that in the light of Christ become a tapestry of oranges and blues and reds and pinks and yellows that are capable of taking the breath away from those who see it. Jesus said it as he was talking to the apostle paul: In your weaknesses, my power is made perfect. You might say, in our weakness, in our imperfection, Christ's beauty is made perfect.
If we were all perfect, Christ work on the cross would not mean much, and our redemption would mean little if anything. To redeem a perfect creation, one not need do anything. But when a creature is utterly corrupted, when it has been soiled beyond repair and made vile in the site of its creator, when the created has been made unfit to even be in the presence of the creator and then it redeemed, restored to a right relationship and made to be one with the creator, that is beautiful beyond anything that we could ever see or experience in this world. It's our imperfections that make Christ beautiful in the eyes of unbelievers, of those who don't know Him. It's the fact that we have our faults, we have our downfalls and we have our shortcomings but still can claim and exhibit the life and beauty of Christ in us through His redemptive work on the cross that most beautifully and effectively exhibits his wondrous redemptive power, and the amazing and outrageous grace that flow from his wounded body.
So don't hide it, brothers. Don't cover it up Sisters. Don't sweep it under the rug and pretend like it isn't there. Bring it out into the Light and allow Christ's power to reflect off it and refract through it as He covers it with his blood. Bring your ugly bits out into the open, and watch in amazement as He transforms them into a beautiful Son rise amongst his creation. If you are a redeemed creature, you have nothing that is not covered. Come out into the Light, all of you, and be glorified by His wonderful light!
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