G.K. Chesterton once proposed that, quite possibly, each morning, God says to the sun “Do it again!”. This morning is one of those I believe. As I drove down to the beach, the sun was painting watercolor streaks of magenta and orange against the misty, muted violet mountain lines on the eastern horizon. I realize some of you never get to see this. You should try it sometime. It’s worth the effort. And I couldn’t help but think, “Do it again!”. Upon arrival at my caffeinated home by the water I discovered that He was saying the same thing to a whole bunch of His other creation. Being Tuesday morning I am a day late in my routine due to some pressing needs, but even still it looks like Monday in here. God obviously had the same “Do it again” message for the seniors who haunt me here as well as our local law enforcement. History does seem to repeat itself.
Don’t get me wrong. I am a fan of history. I appreciate days gone by, antiques, and Nickelodeon. However, I’m much more enamored with the concept of being historical, rather than the simple passing of history. There is a difference. Very simply, history passes time, while, I believe, historical changes it forever. Everything that has happened throughout time leading up to my previous key stroke is history. Fewer moments can really be considered historical. I’ll give you an example. This past Sunday within my community o’ faith was history as soon as it was completed. This next Sunday will be historical long after it passes. This Sunday will be historical for us because, for the first time in our 100 years, we will not hold services on Sunday morning. Instead we will be in groups throughout the community performing acts of service. It’s historical because, this moment in time will alter our routine. It will challenge assumptions of “we always done it this way”. It will be a moment to be lived and savored, and then remembered as an “I was there” type of event. It will be invigorating for some. For others, simply frightening. Many who surround us would choose the routine and comfort of being history, rather than the risk and uncertainty of being historical.
I take comfort in the knowledge that God has been through history already, and remarkably, even as I type these words, this moment is history to him as well. He’s been there, He’s here now, and He’s already been where I’m going. I just read last night the reality that God has already said all that there is to say. There is nothing new to Him. There are no surprises. There is mystery to be sure, but only to us. He’s already covered all of the bases. If you don’t believe that then your God is too small. It’s already contained in the Book of Books. The key to unearthing it is interpretation. That’s where we have fallen woefully short. It has nothing to do with the shortcomings of the Creator, but rather the misguided meddling of the creation. I am certain that I have contributed plenty of meddling. I’m thankful that He can and does often work it somehow for good. Even still, each meddling day passes into night, and as the dawn approaches, He says “Do it again”, and we have another shot at being historical.