"It is he who reduces rulers to nothing, who makes the judges of the earth meaningless.  Scarcely have they been planted, scarcely have they been sown, scarcely has their stock taken rot in the earth, but he merely blows on them, and they wither and the storm carries them away like stubble."
    Ancient words, modern sentiments.  When the Hebrew Isaiah wrote these words in the eighth century B.C.E., his nation, Israel, was gripped with turmoil.  Foreign armies stood poised to invade, cultural and religious apathy were tearing its social fabric apart, and many citizens had lost all hope, all hope that God would ever care for them again.

     Is this not very much like many nations today?  As I look at the impeachment proceedings being conducted in the U.S. Senate, I think often of Isaiah's words.  Here we are, little human beings, caught in a unique historical moment, wrestling mightily with its portents, bickering over its meaning, both sides certain of the validity of their positions, no one to judge.  Not that the hearings or those who involved in them are meaningless, just that, broadly speaking, without a bigger picture, they have no ultimate point.  Absent this, these hearings are merely another permutation, another machination in the lengthy journey of humanity into the mists of history.  Though they are vastly important in this moment, if one day the universe will cease to be without a trace, how will we ever grasp them?  And ourselves?