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Back in 1979, Voyager I flew past the planet Jupiter, taking some of the most amazing photos ever taken. I clipped one of them out of the front page of the newspaper and hung it on my study wall.

Seven Days With God: Day Four: God Adds Awe -Genesis 1: 14-19; Psalm 8; Mark 4: 35-41 - August 19, 2007 - Cicero United Methodist Church - Everett J. Bassett

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Back in 1979, Voyager I flew past the planet Jupiter, taking some of the most amazing photos ever taken. I clipped one of them out of the front page of the newspaper and hung it on my study wall. I did it not because of the amazing color, or the stark vast contrast of this huge planet outlined in black space. Rather, I was intrigued by one detail that was pointed out by a red arrow in the picture. It was a tiny white smudge, which looked like it might be an irregularity in the publishing of the photo. In fact, said the caption, it was a storm, taking place as the spacecraft went by - some weather incident was taking place on the surface of our largest planet. But here's what caught my fascination. As it identified that little white dot, the scientists whose comments the newspaper was publishing said, in a ‘by the way' kind of remark, that that storm -that little white dot on the face of Jupiter - was the size of the planet Earth.

       Seeing that was a moment of perspective for me. And for a year or so, whenever things seemed out of control, and the problems got a little overwhelming, I went to my study wall and looked at that little white blip the size of the planet I live on - and my problems didn't seem so huge anymore. Conversely, at times when I was a little full of myself, and thinking I was God's gift to the people around me, and why didn't they understand and acknowledge that? my glance would fall on that little white blip on the wall, and I would be reminded of how small and how brief my little life is.

       Last Sunday evening was the peak of the Perseids meteor shower. Astronomers predicted an ideal night, with no moon to interfere with watching the wonderful show in the sky. I considered staying up to watch it, but jet lag won out, and I fell asleep. Too bad. I should look at the night sky more often. But here's the thing: looking at the stars at night gives the same perspective as that picture of Jupiter - vastness and majesty.

       Those meteors, of course, and the planets we might see, like Venus or Jupiter - and, of course, our own faithful moon - are relatively close by. Most of the little twinkling stars we see are unimaginably distant. So distant that we are not actually seeing them in real time. Aside from the sun, the nearest star to us is Alpha Centauri. When we see Alpha Centauri in the sky, we are actually seeing it four years ago. That's how long it took for the light from that star to travel through space and become visible on earth. That's the closest star, other than the sun. The other stars we're seeing might be tens or even hundreds of years past. We might be seeing stars that don't even exist anymore - that's how vast the universe is. What can we feel toward such majestic distance other than total awe?

       The creation poem in the first chapter of Genesis tens us that on the fourth day of creation, God said, "Let there be lights in the dome of the sky ... " and hence created the sun and the moon - what those writers in Genesis called the greater and the lesser lights. In their world view, the sun and the moon were the Big Ones, and-there were also tiny stars. We know better - the Sun and the Moon are actually relatively small compared to those stars. But I marvel at the power and majesty behind the words they so simply record: Let there be lights in the dome of the sky. Those words describe unfathomable distance and vastness, as well as unbelievable energy and power. On the fourth day of creation described in the poem, God did His most awesome work - at least in terms of sheer size and distance. And today I want to talk about the qualities of wonder and awe that are the only truly appropriate human responses to what God has done.

       In keeping with the astronomical theme this morning, the image I want to use is that of an eclipse. An attitude of awe over what God has done eclipses three things that often take undue power in our lives. I want to talk about those three things today:

       First of all, an attitude of awe eclipses arrogance. We humans are great builders. I was looking at a picture of the world's tallest buildings. At one point, it was the Empire state building, at 1250 feet. Now at least six taller buildings are either built or going to be built - including edifices in Kuala Lampur, London, Sao Paulo, Melbourne, Hong Kong, and - the tallest of all, at 2000 feet - Chicago. I remember in the old movie Towering Inferno, the beleaguered fire chief, played by Steve McQueen, saying to Paul Newman as the architect, "We can't keep these buildings safe from fire disasters above the sixth floor, but you people keep building them higher and higher." And we do.

And that's not all we do. We build magnificent bridges; we tunnel into the earth. We take spaceships up into unfathomable places. We build machines of faster speed, higher endurance, farther distances. There seems to be nothing human ingenuity can't do. It seems without saying that all of this progress has fostered an attitude of arrogance, rather than humility.

And then the unthinkable things happen: the Titanic sank; the Towers came down; bridges collapse; spaceships malfunction. And even the tallest buildings are dwarfed by what God has done from the fourth day of creation. The majesty of the stars should remind us over and over again just how small and fleeting human efforts can be. And yet, we overlook the reminder. Is it safe to say that the leaders of our nation have needed to discover for the umpteenth time in our history that arrogance has no place in the setting of foreign policy, even for the world's only remaining superpower? Or how many examples do we need to see in the entertainment world, or the world of sports, of people who reach the top of their field, only to topple hard when their own pride leads them astray? The great general Napoleon, asked if he was bothered that God might not condone an action, said, "God is on the side of the greatest artillery." It wasn't long after that that Napoleon's armies were defeated.

There is some reason for our church to be mindful of the temptation of pride. We are an unusual church in our conference, in that we have been blessed with growth - and especially that we have been blessed with growth in ministries for children and youth. That simply is not happening in many other places. In the last few years, our church has climbed up in numbers to be one of the two or three largest churches in our system. This is an occasion for great thankfulness to God; it is also an occasion for great watchfulness - because pride can be so subtle when things are going well. Far be it that in our love for our church, and our realization of blessing from God, we become less humble in our

relationships with other churches and with our conference. Pride is a deadly sin, and makes for a very hard fall. A proper sense of awe can eclipse undue human arrogance.

Secondly, awe eclipses boredom. One of the byproducts of our technological age, it seems to me, is that we have forgotten how to deal with boredom. In fact, we are

terrified of it. I've seen parents go into near-panic when their children announce that they are getting bored. That is like an announcement of failure to a parent, who is, or so some think, supposed to make sure that his or her child is stimulated and entertained at all times. But it's not just children. Many adults plan their lives so that there will be constant activity. The worst thing imaginable is to be bored - so we plan enough stuff to keep us occupied. And, if that doesn't work, we have this insurance policy called television that is always at our fingertips.

When I was a boy, long before cable -- my most inventive, interesting moments were the result of boredom. The neighborhood gang would look at each other and say, "What do you want to do?  "I don't know. What do you want to do?" "I don't know." Amazing projects grew out of those unpromising conversations - journeys of imagination and ingenuity and once in a while deep, deep trouble. But nobody that I'm aware of sat around and worried that we were bored. They trusted that we would think of something to do, and that that process would be good for us.

Here's the more important point to make: how can we be bored in a world whose wonders are inexhaustible? God created a universe so vast and so rich that we can never explore it all - never run out of new things to learn and marvel at. A woman named Ellen Parr said, "The cure for boredom is curiosity; there is no cure for curiosity." If we keep an attitude of awe at the core of our being, boredom is eclipsed, because the world is fun of wonders, and there is no end to the new things that can come our way. Does your life seem like the same-old, same-old? When's the last time you took an approach of child­like wonder to the things around you? Awe eclipses boredom.

And then the third point: awe eclipses fear. Like arrogance and boredom, fear is very much a part of our modem experience. Every day we see it again in the news - whether we are talking on a national or an international scene, or whether we are talking right here in our own community - the tragic consequences when people make decisions in an atmosphere of fear. Fear is the weapon of the terrorist, it is the tool of corrupt politicians and shameless advertisers, it is the enemy of good judgment.

And it is conquered by faith - awe eclipses fear. Of course, we're not naive. We know that there are levels of fear that are written into the subconscious - often from our earliest childhood -- to a depth that isn't reached and alleviated with some kind of magic faith-wand. You don't snap your fingers, and those deepest fears within us just disappear.

But I do believe that the God who created the stars and put them into the farthest stretches of the universe has the power to overcome the fears in our lives. I believe that God gave every bit of that awesome power to his son Jesus, and that the disciples

witnessed that power the day Jesus stood up in that boat and commanded the storm that terrorized them to be still. And I believe that Jesus gives us that power with this guarantee -love casts out fear. Recognizing the power that created the stars - the power that stilled the storm - the power that moved the stone and proclaimed the victory of Easter - standing in awe of what God's power can do - and then realizing that that power is working on your behalf in love every minute of every day - that's what can enable you to master the demon Fear in your life.

Many centuries ago, the writer of Psalm 8 did what I have done hundreds of times ­probably you have too: sat outside under a clear evening sky filled with stars, and marveled at the vastness and beauty of it. He or she wrote these words: 0 Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens ... When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established; what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them?

But if we believe the story of the Bible at all, we know that God does care - in fact God cares more for you than He does for any of those great and distant stars He made. In fact God cares for you so much that He sent His Son to convince you with His very life. That's the most awesome thing of all. Such knowledge surely eclipses the things that lessen life - things like arrogance, and boredom, and fear. To use the themes I preached about last week, such knowledge is what eternal and abundant life is based upon - and we decide whether we want to embrace that kind of life or not. As God waits to pour that awesome power into your life, what is your decision?