It doesn’t rain much here, not enough they say. But after it does, the earth shimmers and shines with the glory of God. The greens and blues are brilliant. The roses, fuschias, and camellias glisten. The clouds billow and scud across the ether. The ocean returns to a place of tranquility. I am awe struck.
An older translation of the Hebrew Scripture describes the model of a just, spiritual leader as having the qualities of morning after rain.
He that ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the fear of God, and he shall be as the light of the morning when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds, as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain. (2 Samuel 23;3-4, KJV)
I looked out this morning on the grass after the rain. All my senses were in play, not only my vision. I entered a world of clarity, of lightness, of freshness. Along with those sensations came a hope for the day and the season, that what transpired in them would have a freedom, a “lightness of being.”
As I reflected on leadership in our world, especially in the Church, I longed for those leaders who fit the description: clear enough to be transparent, light enough to reflect the glory of God, with fresh perspectives that bring the people of God to Hope, not just rehearse what is wrong or hash out strategies against competing interests. I would love to follow someone in the community of faith who could just say “This is who I am, and what I have received from the Spirit, and I offer it beside the all the other offerings that are being envisioned, so that we can discern together where God would lead us.” What freedom and energy could be set loose!
I have loved the fact that we have had rain, which we need so badly. I am even more delighted in the morning after because it brings promise of a new day, of hope and of the Sun who rises with healing it its wings. I am savoring this day!