Jesus answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out." (Lk. 19:40 ESV)

Shouting Stones

I telephoned one of my Seminary professors last week.  And after talking to him, I contemplated the effect he has had on me.  When I teach, I yearn to teach like him.  I admire and sometimes copy his sense of humor.  I compare what compassion I have to the unconditional compassion he showed to struggling students.

What I do… often points to Simon Kistemaker.

But I don’t think I’ve ever actually said so, until this moment.

So really, I didn’t point at all.

Yesterday I watched the moon eat the sun.  I contemplated what lessons might be learned about a geo-centric understanding of yesterday’s events, as opposed to a solar-centric.  I was amazed at the silvery reflected light, the stillness of the atmosphere, and the spooky mid-day twilight.

I noticed the focus of everyone on the event… whether observers were lying on the ground wearing dark glasses, or walking along trying NOT to look at the dangerous light-source… from twelve-thirty until one-thirty, the eclipse was the focus of Kansas.

The eclipse declared the glory of God.  But it's even better if we actually say so.

Our thoughts, our words, our pointing are why the eclipse happened.  Perhaps that makes some folk feel better.  The eclipse did not marshal in any apocalyptic era.  The eclipse did not usher in a new age.  The eclipse was not the first stroke of a magical ‘x’ across the map of the United States that foreshadows any sort of end time.

The eclipse was simply three huge stones crying out in praise of creation’s God. 

Maybe because we have been too silent.  But we don’t have to continue to be silent.