What is it about the shining sun that lifts the spirit in a way that clouds never can?
I know I’m sounding more like a factory worker than a farmer, like a lily-skinned Scotsman than a leather-skinned Sicilian.
And I know it’s a question that more readily comes to mind in the dead cold of winter than in the scorching heat of summer.
But am I not echoing the sentiments of dreamers and drovers, of songwriters and shepherds for centuries? We don’t reserve compliments like, ‘What glorious weather!’ for days on end of drab grey and constant drizzle. Hues of blue in the morning and pallets of delicate pink through to deep purple in the evening is the stuff of lovers, poets and pilgrims:
Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy.
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry.
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely.
Sunshine almost always makes me high.
(John Denver 1970)
I have three special sunshine moments:
One is in the early morning and I experienced it again last month for the first time in years. It was the last day of a holiday by the sea. I had slept in most mornings but I made a big effort to rise before dawn and head down to the most easterly beach in NSW.
No, not Byron Bay, but Blinky’s Beach. Uninhabited, isolated, unspoiled. There is not a man-made dwelling to be seen from the sand. I walked the beach through the various stages of the dawn and sunrise. Then, when the sun was a few degrees above the horizon, I went for a body surf.
My primal desire was not to catch the waves, as much as I love doing that, but to dive through the waves just as they were breaking and to watch a light show like no other as the early sun pierces through the lip of the thin wall of water about to break. It showers thousands of shards of sparkling diamonds towards my body as I launch myself through the wave. Vivid and New Year’s Eve have nothing on this. It’s more than just seeing a magnificent light show. It’s like being in the eye of one.
Sunshine through the water makes me happy
Another is in my back garden as dappled sunlight falls across the grass and filters through the forest beyond our unfenced back boundary. It may be a Summer’s morning or a Winter’s afternoon. Cicada’s may be finding voice. Kookaburras have found theirs because they have feasted on their breakfast. Magpies are in hot pursuit of their share as well.
Moments like these are enhanced by a steaming cup of coffee, chaotic games of back-yard cricket with the grandkids, the company of family and friends and some good banter or craic (I’m allowed to use that word, having an Irish son-in-law).
Sunshine in my garden makes me sigh
A third is late in the day and happens rarely. On less than half a dozen occasions in my life I have been surfing at a break on the east coast of Australia where the sun has been setting and there is a large mass of water to the west, on the shore side of the breaking wave, between me and the setting sun. If the conditions are right both the water I’m skimming over and the sky I’m ‘walking on water’ under are turning various shades of ever-deepening red. It’s something impossible to plan for or orchestrate and the precious few experiences I’ve had of it have been exquisite.
Sunshine (sunset) on the ocean looks so lovely
Please don’t think I am trying to reconstruct some ancient sun-worshipping diety, so prevalent, not only in the ancient world, but amongst Victorians migrating in their masses through the no-mans-land of NSW to Queensland.
The sun is creation and gift, useful to poet and physicist, and always a tool in the hand of the Creator who makes his sun shine (and his rain fall) on both friend and enemy (Matthew 5:45).
The sun as creation is also honoured as a symbol of endurance and permanence and God’s favour upon his people (Psalm 84:11, Psalm 89:36).
The sun, with all creation, is beckoned to cry out in praise of its Creator (Psalm 148).
But wonder it is that this wonderful gift of creation is rendered the ultimate superlative and afforded the rarest of illustrative privilege:
But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in it’s wings . . (Malachi 4:2)
And you, my child, will be called a prophet of the Most High;
For you will go on before the Lord to prepare the way for him,
To give his people knowledge of salvation
through the forgiveness of their sins,
because of the tender mercy of our God,
by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven
to shine on those living in darkness
and in the shadow of death,
to guard our feet into the path of peace (Luke 1:76-79).
And such is the splendour of the sun who is The Son, that a day is coming when sun and moon and stars will, by contrast, be seemingly and simply rendered obsolete:
The city does not need the sun nor the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light and the Lamb is its lamp (Revelation 21:23).
This Lamb, introduced earlier in Revelation as the living, reigning Christ whose face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance (Revelation 1:1-16).
