May the Lord Rejoice in All His Works

In an earlier post I indicated that the quotation at the right of this blog was the epigraph for my doctoral dissertation in botany. A portion of Psalm 104 appointed for this Sunday had the same function for the only book I've written. Given that the book was about the natural history of eastern Iowa and western Illinois, it seemed appropriate to use: "You send forth your Spirit, and they are created; and so you renew the face of the earth./May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord rejoice in all his works."

This Pentecost I am struck by the natural imagery of the readings: a sound like the rush of a violent wind; divided tongues, as of fire; and Paul's statement that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now. All of these are attempts to put into words things that are essentially nonverbal, or better, preverbal. We can give Latin names to plants and animals and Greek-derived names to their parts and imagine that we know something fundamental about them, when, in fact, we do not. Luke calls up as many far-flung languages as he can to describe what happened to those disciples at nine-o'clock Pentecost morning, when in fact all he knows is that suddenly people who had been hiding for fear of being arrested are now boldly proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ.

Something happened that Pentecost morning. What it was we shall never know with certainty. We do know that it had something to do with the falling of the Holy Spirit upon people who previously had other things to do. It was different from the natural order yet somehow intimately a part of it. It had the promise of renewing the whole of creation that was groaning in travail. And it most certainly revealed the glory of the Lord that endures forever. May the Lord continue to rejoice in all his works, as he did on that Pentecost.

Cleaning Out

R and I have been spending the week cleaning out stuff, mostly in the basement. We've lived in our house for 21 years, and anticipate moving soon to be closer to a new position I'm starting at the end of July. I got the call at a reception honoring biology graduates at the institution from which I just retired, and accepted the call on the day of my last commencement. If I have any doubt about God being behind this, I think about that timing! This past Monday I put twenty-seven years of teaching into eight boxes, moved out of my office, and turned in my keys. As the old gospel song says, "no turnin' back!" I'm excited about what lies ahead, and committed to making this blog a greater part of that journey. May you few faithful readers be joined by more!