They who dwell in the ends of the earth stand in awe of Your signs;
You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy.
– Psalm 65:8
Awe. Such a weighty word for only three letters. Have you noticed that, with only rare exception, the posture associated with awe is standing? Seldom have I heard of anyone “sitting in awe” or “reclining in awe.” Awe brings a person to her feet. All other thoughts flee for the moment; there is no room for them. Our attention is totally focused as our minds and souls are filled with wonder.
As we lead into the fourth Sunday of Lent in 2024, my attention was drawn to this psalm because its language points toward the preaching text for the week. It is one of two recorded events when Jesus was with his disciples on the Sea of Galilee. In the classic language of literature, both were “dark and stormy nights.” On one occasion Jesus came walking on the water. On the other he spoke to the wind and waves to calm a storm. If you wonder why the psalm makes me think of those narratives from the gospels, let me give you a larger passage.
“By awesome deeds you answer us with righteousness,
O God of our salvation, the hope of all the ends of the earth
and of the farthest seas;
the one who by his strength established the mountains,
being girded with might;
who stills the roaring of the seas,
the roaring of their waves, the tumult of the peoples.”
– Psalm 65:5-7
Now return to the gospel narrative. The writers of Matthew and Mark put it similarly. “He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, ‘Quiet! Be still!’ Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. They were terrified and asked each other, ‘Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!'” (Mark 4:39,41). Who indeed! Put yourself in the place of those friends of Jesus. You have just seen him come walking across the top of the lake. You have just witnessed him calm a storm. Would either give you a sense of awe?
Most days I don’t notice the awesomeness of God very well. To be sure, His awesomeness is there every day, every hour. I just don’t notice it very well. If Jesus came to me walking on water, I would stand in awe. If I were to observe the forces of nature being subdued by his command, I would stand in awe. But is that what it takes for me to notice? Maybe I would be standing more regularly if I were willing to see more keenly. After all, the heavens declare the glory of God, and the skies proclaim the work of God’s hands (Psalm 19:1). It is not like His awesomeness is hidden. In fact, Psalm 65 indicates that my day, every day, can begin and end standing in awe.
One of the most moving descriptions of an event I have ever heard came from the well known radio broadcaster Paul Harvey. (It is surprising, with all of the information available on the Internet, that I cannot find a reprint of that monologue. I would gladly share it with you in its original form.) The description began without context, so the listener would not immediately know what was being revealed. Harvey’s narrative moved with great detail of changing hues of color and the gradual progression from darkness to the breakthrough of light. It was a brilliant work of writing. The listener was truly being drawn to something magnificent, something that must be extraordinarily unusual. Only when Harvey was finished was it revealed that the description was of something available to us every day: the glory of a sunrise.
“You make the dawn and the sunset shout for joy.” Yes, God certainly does. We should join with creation to stand in awe of our Creator at the beginning and end of every day—and many times in between. Lord, open my eyes, that I may see and stand in awe.
The Winding Path 