If I were given the power to excise two items from our modern technology tool kit, I would do away with security lights and half of the lights in our parking lots and our cities. Light pollution has arrived at Sabbath Rest Farm and I am not happy. The new Wal-Mart and Lowe’s in Weaverville are lit up like Christmas trees all night long. Added to the other lights in our small town, a golden glow now shines over our far hill blocking out the Milky Way and other stars.I know this seems like a small petty concern especially when balanced against war and famine but in this season of Epiphany, star light has a special meaning for me.
Most of us live our lives never looking up in the night sky much. Occasionally we might notice a full moon or a spectacular sunset. Star gazing is an extinct past time in the cities where most of the little jewels are hidden by the reflected light. When we first moved to Sabbath Rest, I remember Tim showing us the Milky Way overhead. He and Michael named all the stars they knew and there were thousands more, each a perfect point of light in the velvet blackness overhead. North Star, a guide for sailors and travelers... the Big Dipper, Orion... each constellation has its own story. I have two star stories that linger in my soul as reminders of my finitude.
My religious education as a Southern Baptist was grounded mostly in the here and now. Mystery was not on our church menu Sunday mornings. Much of what I learned about God, Jesus, faith and theology was presented as an absolute fact without any wiggle room. One of my encounters with the mysteries of the universe came at a Baptist Student Union retreat at a lake near our college. One night several of us lay on a pier stretching out into the water watching the stars. There was not much light pollution in rural South Georgia so the star gazing was spectacular. Everyone began seeing shooting stars. You could not see the same star someone else saw unless you were looking at the same place at the same time. The light was fleeting and fast. Each of us took a part of the night sky for our own and as we rested in the firmament, the traveling light show reminded us how small we were.
After we moved to Sabbath Rest Farm, we woke early one morning (or late one night) and went out to our sunset deck. It was midwinter and freezing cold. Bundled up, we laid down on the deck floor to watch a meteor shower, shooting stars. There were thousands of them and I loosed the tethers that held my feet to terra firma. Lost in the dance of the stars, I marveled at the mystery of creation and the God that set this all in motion. I felt like I floated up into the night sky, balanced between heaven and earth, dancing with the stars.
“What is man that Thou art mindful of him?” asked the Psalmist. That ancient question rattles around in my soul at moments like these. Creation seems so vast and unapproachable, full of mystery upon mystery. And yet...The unknowable God who set the morning stars singing, the loving God who created life, the God who waits for us to be still and know, is both beyond our knowledge and in our hearts. It’s a wonder... a mystery... a Christmas gift.
Star light, star bright, guide my soul to God who waits for me clothed in the body of a baby boy this season. Help me remember to dance with the stars in celebration of your presence among us. Thank you for the night sky and its star jewelry, reminders of my limits and your unlimited love. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment