There is something special, almost magical about fireworks. On July 4, the shows are held in communities, fairs, cities and on television. It is the highlight of summer. The pride of our nation is celebrated again. There are fireworks displays for everyone, and old and young alike await them with anticipation. Their appeal is universal.

I watched last year, not as I once did in dark Nomahegan Park, uncomfortably cramped on a blanket with the kids, who were awake much later than their bedtime; but on a comfortable sofa in front of the TV, as my dignified age allowed. And yet, I had the same reaction that has come every year, regardless of the locale. The feelings are individual, but the response is communal. With the first burst and with each one thereafter, the "oohs" and "ahs," the phenomenon of fireworks is heard.

The sounds are instant reaction to the spectacle of sunbursts, showers of falling stars, and popping of flower buds, whose blooming telescopes their natural sequence. Though I may have been silent, except for an occasional "wow" or "look at that one" to my husband, I was caught up in the mood.

How great it was! And I suddenly thought of God, whose greatness is immeasurably beyond anything the fireworks might offer. In the light of God's glory, the fireworks are dwarfed and shrink to insignificance.

My mind shifted to another spectacle, the grand show that John, on that rocky island of Patmos, must have seen as part of the Revelation of Jesus Christ. And as anyone who has watched a fireworks display knows, the finale is burst upon burst, color upon color until all is spent. John's view is climaxed by the description of the New Jerusalem. It is bursting with colors not equaled on earth, even in fireworks. John writes of jewels in a vast array of splendor - sparkling, shimmering, glowing. He describes them as jasper, gold, sapphire and agate; emerald, onyx and carnelian; topaz, amethyst, pearl and more. Just imagine that eye-splitting vision. It's a wonder John could contain himself, and perhaps he couldn't. We read his words, but we cannot imagine his excitement, his breathless wonder at God's display. And unlike our earthly fireworks, God's finale is not the end, but only the beginning.

Our fireworks? They shine for a few seconds and then are gone in puffs of smoke. John's vision ended but his words revealing the promise of spiritual reality remain.

Our spectacular displays are fizzles, duds compared to the marvelous works of God. That blaze of glory in the New Jerusalem is beyond human comprehension and yet the wonder of its reality lives on.

That makes me excited, and lifts my spirit. I can feel the "oohs" and "ahs" welling up in my soul. Perhaps you do, too, and we can worship and praise together as we await the promise Christ, his coming in glory. That may well be bigger and grander fireworks than we can ever imagine. Praise be to God!

Our guest columnist is Nancy H. Miller, director of religious education at St. Andrew's Church, New Providence, N.J. She lives in Cranford, N.J.