Love, the Star, is on the Way

Orion Nebula Star Formation Factory

Creator of the stars of night,

Thy people’s everlasting light,

Jesu, Redeemer, save us all,

And hear Thy servants when they call.

Thou, grieving that the ancient curse

Should doom to death a universe,

Hast found the medicine, full of grace,

To save and heal a ruined race.

~Creator of the stars of night, 1982 Hymnal #60

star factory nearby galaxy

Stars, keep the watch. When night is dim

One more light the bowl shall brim,

Shining beyond the frosty weather,

Bright as sun and moon together.

People, look east and sing today:

Love, the star, is on the way.

~People look east, Eleanor Farjeon 

 
Today, I had the joy of singing the preceding hymns (can be heard by clicking below) as part of our Advent choir during our Wednesday Eucharist service in chapel.  Afterward, our esteemed dean and president even said to me, "You looked like you were enjoying yourself up there, very full of joy."  So, perhaps Advent is doing its work after all, eh?  The service was lovely and God was faithful, as always, to use the music and the liturgy to bring joy and assurance that He is indeed coming.  A word was given during the service that the Lord was encouraging a female in the room with a hole in her heart that He was healing it and that He does not mean for her to carry it going forward.  I am one such girl (with a black hole in her heart) who could use that encouragement as just last week I was telling a friend, "I have so little hope that this one thing will be healed before I get to the new heavens and new earth...."  And that healing is what the Lord has been trying to remind me of over the last month or so.

This may seem somewhat roundabout, but it's the meditation that I sat down to write so here it is.  I have been thinking a lot about the whole of creation groaning for completion, for us to take our place as the children, kings and queens of God, for all to be put to rights, for the Prince of Shalom to reign fully.  Lately, I have also groaned for this and I am glad for the season of Advent, in part, for a time to lament and groan together for the brokenness that is still here and yet for the abundant life and the medicine, as the hymn says, that has been given in the Incarnation of our Lord who is faithful to heal and bring us all, as one creation, to completion.  

surroundings of a black hole

But, what I want to add is that while I was viewing Hubble photos for today's images of stars, I realized that I really do view a place in myself as a black hole, so compact and dense that all is lost into it...even light, its gravitational pull all-encompassing.  Whatever star was present, died and had been of such a mass that a black hole is all that is left.  This is a very difficult truth for me to share but even so, God has asked me to share as honestly as I am able and this image really settled in my mind today as being how I view this, not with God's lens, but just with my own.  This is in some ways, a really helpful image because I know even with all this gloom (the paradox of the already and not yet, methinks) that God, Creator of the stars of night, Love, the bright morning star who himself is the nuclear fuel of every star and will never die, is on the way and the darkness has not overcome him!  I'm praying this becomes more evident as Advent goes on and that it takes hold in the midst of the black hole I have carried so long in my heart.  This is also part of why I am determined to present these meditations, to remind myself of Light and Beauty.

"I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches. I am the Root and the Offspring of David, and the bright Morning Star."   (Revelation 22.16)

"Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.  In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.  The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness HAS NOT overcome it."  (John 1.3-5)

rear window

On April 10th, I sat in my office. It was raining outside and I was just bumbling on with my work. Then I got news that there were police outside on the tracks (which I can easily see from my window). I prayed at first that this didn't mean a suicide, but really, what else could it mean? Isn't that what it always means? Another Wheaton man had killed himself about 4 days before that. And 3 Wheaton students this year, though not by train and not even in Wheaton, IL.

And as people approached my window wanting to see what the police were doing and perhaps even to see if they could have proof of a body. That, along with irreverent comments like, "wouldn't the person just be bits and pieces anyway?" fueled my already discontented self. The last news came when a friend and colleague walked in and said she'd actually walked out back to look. And she saw the body of a man in a hoodie. The other details not need be repeated and really I didn't need to hear them either. But, I did. I only had about an hour before I had to leave or else I might have thrown up on the spot and left. I felt and knew that the Son wept at this man's death and that the fellowship should have felt holiness at this troubled passing. But, perhaps I just read into things too much...

Anyway, I was so disheartened. Why all the deaths? What sorts of devils had a hold on these men? I did look up online to see if there was anything in paper or on the news about it. There was a police transcript, nothing else for days. Then today I looked again and was glad to see that there was a name: Kurt. (He also had a last name but I don't want to take the Google searches away from those who deserve much more than I do to give final words for him). Anyway, I was led to his myspace page where I found he was a wanderer but much loved by those who knew him. From there I went on to a page by the Detholz!, the best obit probably anyone could have asked for. It was a beautiful memoriam and representation of Kurt in life. They'd even written him a song (well before his death which is perhaps even better) which is more than most receive in this life, I think! He is loved and grieved by people who loved him in life as still in death.

I received a sense of peace (and a stranger sense of relief!), along with a sense that I could weep. It was really restorative and healing to read that this man, plagued as he was by devils, was loved, fed and blessed by lives with brothers. So, I lift up the family and friends that survive Kurt and also hope that no one feels at blame for it. I also lift up Kurt and commit him into the arms of the Father.

Anyway, just wanted to share that experience. It was a very troubling one and as I explained to Greg, one that sent my sadness farther and yet, now, I think, I've been given a grace to let it go...at least for the grieving at death and suicide. Help my unbelief!