There’s something holy about sunsets.

Long after it sets, the sun’s light lingers in the lavender clouds drifting slowly over me as I stand in my front yard, small against the majesty. Each evening brings the chance to pause; to consider the art and Artist speaking in silent extravagance.

We visited Italy last year, and marveled at the frescoes in Church of The Gesu, where glowing clouds seemed to frame a portal to Heaven, a technique of color and shading in the hand of a master.

Tourists come from all over the world to marvel at the fresco, aptly titled, Triumph of the Name of Jesus. We craned our necks to take in the dazzling sight above us in the quiet of the man-made chapel. Yet how many of us also lift our eyes to the skies outside that chapel, to behold the beauties of the cathedral of God’s creation? For all paintings are merely dim replicas of a greater beauty.

Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens.

Psalms 8:1

The sun’s final rays ignite fiery leaves as I stand in my yard tonight, the trees flinging their brightness to earth in their final bow. The evening star winks in the west, playing its part in silent praise.

The Master’s skill is displayed even here, glowing clouds overshadowing Giovanni Bautista Galli’s talent in the softening light of this ordinary evening.

Here in this ordinary town, above the roofs of ordinary people, a masterpiece forms and wanes at every eventide.

I lift up my eyes to you, to you who sit enthroned in heaven.

Psalms 123:1

Lift your eyes, the beauty calls. He will come in clouds like these. Come for us who long for his appearing. For all of us who crane our necks, searching the evening skies for a glimpse of glory. For home.

For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.

Romans 1:20