By Gordon Strother
Flashing even a stray ray or two through the clouds, our sunsets here can be special. Yet we cannot see them directly. We could suit up, venture out, and attempt to peer uphill through the currently bare trunks and branches to the west. We might spy through those branches a hint of your backyard variety peachy, pearly, rosy sunset, but what fun is that? We're situated in an enormous teacup. This image has huge holes, Partner, (it's closer to a vast saucer, for instance) but float with me. We're clinging below the cup's south rim, watching our shadow creep out over Lake Zoar's waters; the surrounding high hills comprise the cup's inside. And those hills are drenched in bright sun.
North light is the artist's friend, I've been told. At this time of year, the tans, light pinks, rusty browns, brown browns, and occasional dusty greens on those hills are dandy enough to my eye, but at this time of day – I'm painting as fast as I can. They come alive, glowing and mellowing by the second. The reflections in the lake (why crank your neck skyward?) reveal clouds you hadn't noticed before, growing pink on the darkening blue water. No—in a blink, they're apricot. Too late—now they’re rose. And if you crane to the right, the northeast, through the panes of our lookout post here, you'll catch Great Southbury Hill catching fire. Smoldering, anyway. What a sight.
Now, Partner, we may explain the diurnal rolling of our island home – good night, dear Sun; see you in the morning – or note the motes in our troposphere and the spheres beyond, or speak of refractions and reflections. And we might analyze Uncle Frank's mustache. Phooey. The glory of our refracted, reflected, second hand sunset (besides its glory) is that it is a metaphor for the hand that strew those motes beyond counting and shaped all spheres far beyond our tropopause. For now, said Paul, we see in a mirror dimly (1 Cor. 13:12). This a prayer of gratitude.
Our caring does not end at our church doors. God calls us to reach out to our community and the world. At Trinity we cultivate a culture that encourages members to regularly engage with, listen to, walk with, learn from, and develop relationships with those around us representing different racial and ethnic groups and social classes as we discern how to better prepare for and witness the Kingdom of God in the larger community.
We invite you to check these pages often for news on activities and insight from parishioners as we move forward on this journey.
Why is the Trinity Bell Ringing?
Parishioner Gordon Strother, as part of a ministry created by deathpenalty.org, tolls the bell at 6pm for two minutes on the evenings of a scheduled execution anywhere in the United States. Gordon has participated in this ministry for over 12 years.