This evening’s Bible passage is Psalm 27:4 (NASB):

One thing I have asked from the Lord, that I shall seek:
That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
To behold the beauty of the Lord
And to meditate in His temple.

I read Psalm 27 at the kitchen table first thing this morning. Over breakfast, Ann and I were just a tad gloomy over the state of the world. Then, two pairs of rose-breasted grosbeaks landed in the Japanese lilac outside our window, and took turns dining at our bird feeder. For those of you may not know what a rose-breasted grosbeak looks like, here’s a picture of one:

These grosbeaks winter in Central America and migrate through Wisconsin in the spring. They’re not only beautiful, they’re also romantic. According to my bird book, “Male and female rub bills to display affection during courtship.” Since this was the first time we’d seen one, they graciously hung around for almost an hour to let us enjoy them, and returned several times during the day. When the psalmist asked to see the beauty of the LORD, he didn’t expect to see the glory of God in all its fullness. He wanted to see it reflected in the beauty of the temple. Today, God has blessed Ann and me with the gift of beholding his beauty reflected in a bird of his creation.

I was reminded of the only time I’ve seen a painted bunting. Some forty years ago, I was privileged to see a pair nesting in a bush in the Florida Everglades. The male bunting is one of the most lavishly colored birds in all creation. No larger than a sparrow, it looks as though God just threw all the colors in his repertoire at this bird.

I wasn’t bird-watching at the time. I was out running. I stopped to join a small group of people staring for no apparent reason into a hedge. And there were the buntings.

Now, I realize that not everybody is as wild about birds as I am. God displays his beauty to us in multiple and varied ways. He suits his gifts to our individual tastes. Music or poetry may speak to some; a baby’s fingers to another; a random act of kindness to yet another.

God’s beauty surprises us. It’s a special moment. We don’t see a rose-breasted grosbeak or get swept away by beautiful music or gaze at a rainbow every day. We’re living through a pandemic. The psalmist had his bad times, too: “When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh, … though an army encamp against me …” (Ps. 27:2-3). But, in the midst of the brokenness, God blesses us with glimpses of his beauty.

These glimpses aren’t all we’ll ever see of God’s beauty. On the contrary, they’re appetizers for the time when our God-given longing to behold the beauty of the LORD without interruption, always, and forever will be fully satisfied. In the new heaven and the new earth, we’ll see God’s beauty not only occasionally in birds, music, and the like, but in God himself and, even more surprisingly, with the complete absence of sin and brokenness, in one another: “Beloved, now we are children of God; and it has not yet been revealed what we shall be, but we know that when He is revealed, we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is” (1 John 3:2).

In the meantime, thanks be to God for the appetizers.

Your brother in Christ,

Max

P.S. Ann and our community group have jointly insisted that I take one day of rest each week, so I’ll no longer be adding my thoughts to Michael’s Sunday homily. Instead I’ll be quietly keeping my eyes open for glimpses of God’s beauty. I’ll be back on Monday.