We’ve never had much of an art collection. Our home mostly is decorated with the artwork of friends, a few photographs that we have taken, and reprints that have meaning for us. But I have seen great art. I remember standing mesmerized by paintings of Claude Monet at the Art Institute of Chicago. I have been awed at the sight of stained glass by Marc Chagall when traveling in Europe. The list of wonderful art that I have witnessed in my life is long and there are so many memories of great beauty expressed in the artwork of human beings.

But I don’t have to travel to be immersed in beauty. Our home has a daylight basement. The basement is buried on the west end, but open on the east end as the hill slopes away from the house. On the east end of the basement are the kitchen and living room of a small apartment that was designed into our home. The living room has become my library with shelves on all of the walls except the East, which has a beautiful window matching the one in the kitchen. It is in this room that I do much of my writing and thinking and preparing for my days. And it is out of those windows that I am gifted with panoramic sunrises day after day.

I know a little bit about photography and I have a very good camera. I can control aperture and shutter speed, thus controlling my depth of field. I know a little bit about filters and reducing glare. But I know that I can’t capture the sunrises that I witness.

Not that the knowledge keeps me from trying.

As I look through the images of the past year it is remarkable how many are taken at sunrise.

The beauty in which I am immersed, however, isn’t reserved for sunrise only. The hills are prone to spectacular sunsets. And the creeks that flow around us have some stunning waterfalls. A few steps into the forest reveals a stunning vista of shadows and light in the midst of the trees.

And the beauty isn’t limited to what the eyes can see.

Yesterday I was holding a six-week old baby. He was calm and quiet in my arms. His black hair and dark eyes were absolutely gorgeous. But there is more beauty to holding a baby than what your eyes see. It is the feel of new life in your arms, the soft breathing against your chest, and the knowledge of the joy of new life in your heart.

I have witnessed the beauty of the glances a couple exchange after decades of marriage and shared life. I have been with teens at the moment of confirmation and commitment. I have sat at a bedside as death is experienced with grace and courage.

I have lived immersed in beauty.

I know that there are good and faithful people who long for a distant and different heaven. I have read the descriptions of streets paved in gold. cities of gleaming white and the majesty and splendor of the throne of God. And I have no direct knowledge of what lies beyond death for people of faith. I know that it is beyond imagination. In Corinthians, Paul quotes the prophet, “But, as it is written,
“no eye has seen, nor ear heard,     nor the human heart conceived, what God has prepared for those who love him.”

So I am content to wait for what will be revealed in its own time.

But I don’t have to wait to have witnessed paradise.

I have already been invited to sit at the table with angels.

I will never forget the taste of eating Gallo Pinto with Pastor Dorotea while sitting on a homemade bench in front of a homemade table on the bare concrete floors of a little church in Costa Rica. The years have passed. The floors have been tiled. The tables and benches have so many coats of paint on them that they seem to be made of paint alone. But the food has never been better than it was on that day as we struggled to understand each other’s language, but knew each other’s struggles and tasted the genuine hospitality of colleagues.

I have feasted on wohanpi and fry bread and wojapi with friends from the Dakota Association. We have a long and mixed history and earning trust is a slow process. There is no better food and when it is offered with love there is no finer meal ever served.

I am willing to wait for the glories of heaven because I have already been invited to feast with angels in paradise.

I am looking forward to this week with great anticipation. We have invited colleagues from neighboring churches and people from the community to share in a community thanksgiving service on Tuesday evening. It will be a great celebration of the faith we hold in common and the ministries in which we share in our town.

The next day we will drive to Missouri to our daughter’s home to share a holiday weekend with her. We get to play the role of host and guest in the same week and to celebrate Thanksgiving in different ways and different places.

It is appropriate to offer thanks and praise multiple times because we have been so blessed.

The horizon is still dark as I look out my window, but I know that there is another brilliant sunrise just over the horizon. I think I can see a bit of pre-dawn glow starting to creep into the scene outside my window. I love this time of day as I anticipate the beauty that is about to burst forth. It is good to live on the border between the glory of the night sky with all of its stars and the brilliance of sunrise. Immersed in beauty there is yet still more to be revealed.

Thanksgiving is every day.

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