I am an early riser by preference more than necessity.  The early morning is a good time.  The middle days of October have little light to share with their early hours, however; the sun not showing itself until past seven.  It’s just plain dark when I first go out in the early morning.  Finally this week, early risers reaped one of the precious rewards for quitting their beds when no hint morning light has begun to gild the skies.  The air was cold and clear, and there were the stars which for weeks had been hidden behind dreary gray clouds. Orion the Hunter in the southern sky, the Big Dipper, Ursa Major, in the north.

In college I took an Astronomy for Dummies course to satisfy a natural sciences requirement. I don’t remember much from the class, and don’t ask me to list any constellations other than Orion the Hunter and the Big Dipper, but I loved the class, nevertheless.  Our professor told us not to worry too much about the physics of the sky, but to allow ourselves to enjoy the wow of it all.  I may have forgotten most of the constellations, but I have never lost the wow that comes when the stars are out. The clear fall skies of this past week have been filled with wow.

Psalm 147 is a psalm of praise.  The psalmist lifts the power and work of the Lord before the people. Beginning and end, he calls them to praise the Lord.

Early in the psalm he uses simple and straight-forward words to paint a bright and compelling picture of this God we are called to praise:

He heals the brokenhearted
   and binds up their wounds.
He determines the number of the stars;
   he gives to all of them their names.
Great is our Lord, and abundant in power;
   his understanding is beyond measure.
The LORD lifts up the humble;
   he casts the wicked to the ground. Psalm 147:3–6. (ESV)

I have known God’s way of healing broken hearts and binding up our wounds. I confess that he is able and willing to lift up the humble and cast the wicked to the ground, but I do not pray often enough for such lifting up and casting down.

But this week when I was out early with Orion the Hunter and the Big Bear overhead, God spoke from his Word reminding me that every star in every galaxy was set there by his hand and that, wondrously, he gives a name to each of them. With great understatement, the psalmist says of God, “his understanding is beyond measure.”

Some of us rise early by necessity, our eyes barely focusing as we stumble out the door, and some of us prefer a later start to the day.  Sometimes gray and dreary clouds hide the morning stars for weeks on end. No matter.  The stars, numbered and named by God, are still there singing a song of praise for all the universe to hear.  Early riser or not, we’re all called to join that chorus.

Finally, this week the morning  stars were there to be seen and, if you listened carefully, to be heard.

See you Sunday.