A Thrill of Hope

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining

Tonight is a crisp, December night. Something about a cold, winter evening makes the stars seem to shine brighter on a clear night. I look up and see the constellation, Orion, close to the horizon. My dad taught me that constellation when I was a kid. In my high school astronomy class I learned that if you look closely you can, just barely, see with the naked eye a nebula, the brightest in our sky - just south of the "belt" of Orion. A nebula is an interstellar cloud of dust and gases, this one reflecting light from a nearby cluster of stars. The "Great Orion Nebula" is one of the most photographed objects in the night sky, and if you have ever seen pictures of it it's pretty remarkable.

Nebulae are sometimes referred to as "stellar nurseries" because they have the ability to produce new stars. Though the dust and gases are are spread out between a vast distance, they can eventually collect until they have enough gravitational attraction to collapse into each other, forming a new star - no longer faintly reflecting light of another but shining itself.

The Christmas season always feels like the time we are most willing to collapse into each other, forming something that shines bright, brings hope, and heals broken hearts and souls.

Have you heard of the Christmas Truce of 1914? During World War I, on Christmas Day the Germans and British not only had a cease fire, but they joined together in "No Man's Land" to sing, share gifts, and even play a game of soccer. Despite fighting against each other in the Great War they collapsed into each other and put aside what was driving them apart in order to enjoy peace with their fellow man. It's a heart-warming story of shining in our shared humanity when we oppose one another, entrenched (literally, in this case) in our differing beliefs and values.

But, the war continued. Following this Christmas celebration, the soldiers returned to their sides and picked up where they had left off. I wonder what is was like to pick up your rifle again and resume firing at the same men you just ate a meal with, laughed with, showed pictures of your families. I wonder who brought themself to take the first shot again. I wonder if it what more painful to kill an enemy that didn't seem like an enemy a few hours earlier.


Long lay the world in sin and error pining

This is how our current climate feels in the U.S. In the midst of polarized political viewpoints that can't seem to even consider why someone might believe something different how can we collapse into each other so we can shine as one into the darkness? How do we confront our own biases - racial, political, cultural - lament for where our thoughts and hearts have not been pleasing to God, and move towards love and unity despite our differences?

I think about things like the solar eclipse that happened this summer, and how so many of us stopped what we were doing to look up together in admiration and wonder at the phenomenon. For a moment we collapse into each other when we fix our eyes on the things that God reveals Himself through.

He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

But what does it look like when we remain collapsed into one another - where we continue to commit to loving each other; where we remain in a posture that is fixated on God and His Kingdom?

When I was a mental health provider in an elementary school I had a boy on my caseload where other therapists and school staff told me I was the last resort. They were all exhausted from his aggressive misbehavior. This boy had experienced significant trauma in his 9 years of life. His mother had as well, and she was wrapped up in her own negative behaviors and choices. The two of them took a lot of energy and patience, but in observing interactions between them and other staff I realized the lack of response the school was complaining about was because they heard this family but were not listening. They looked at this family but did not see them.

When this boy became angry and decided to kick the walls and knock things off tables, I didn't call for someone else to come deal with him - I stayed in the room and let him know I was not going anywhere. When he would say something inappropriate I didn't dismiss him - I drew even closer because I saw the hurt in him that was fueling his tendency to push away to see if I would reject him like others had. I listened and I saw him. Eventually, this boy complied with my requests. He listened when I spoke to him and responded with respect and genuine care. The school staff saw how he acted with me and then in class, which earned me the nickname "The Great White Hope" (it was a predominantly African American and Latino school and I was the minority).

When I took the time to listen to what his mother was struggling with, what she had been through, the support she was currently needing but was lacking... When I saw her through whatever she was under the influence of without judgment, but with honest concern and compassion... Her response was different. She did try some manipulative tactics but I saw through and responded respectfully, which also became well received. One day she, out of the blue, asked, "You're a Christian, aren't you?" I replied honestly and told her I was. She told me she could tell. Then, she added something that hit me hard all the way to the core of my being, and still rings in my soul: "Thank you for caring about my son. Not many people do."

And the soul felt it's worth.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices

I had a session with this boy during spring break, and when I went to drop him off his mom burst out of the house to my car, smiling. It was the week following Easter, and she said she decided to try church again. She went on Easter and eagerly shared how moved she was by the service and the things that were said about Jesus. It was like the pastor was speaking directly to her what she was needing to hear. She said she wanted to continue going, and she was excited to tell me about it.

Is it possible that simply listening to someone, not just looking but seeing, and staying in the room with them when they are in a whirlwind of the brokenness of the world can spark a new sense of hope? A hope that breaks through a hardened heart? Did this family and I collapse into each other to birth a newfound light - and all it took was relating in our own humanity; not allowing hurtful words and actions to forever shut us off to the possibility of collapsing into each other at some point?

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

We don't have to live hardened lives, keeping each other at arms length. We don't have to stay camped out on our "side" and refuse to break barriers and cross borders into someone else's reality. We all know the pain that is inevitable to sting us from time to time in this world. But Jesus came to challenge and confront the injustices of the world head on. He brought a thrill of hope that we can rejoice in. So why are we playing victim to the sin and error pining when we can bask in the new and glorious morn and carry it to those who are still weary? When we collapse into each other we live in that glorious morn that Jesus brought. Just like the sun causes the morning fog to dissipate, so too can our light dissolve the fog that clouds others from seeing the glorious morn. But we can't produce that light until we collapse.

But, just like a new star, we cannot shine our own light until we have reflected the light of Another off of ourselves - off all of our own dust and scattered pieces. The love of God to give Himself to us in human form - in the vulnerable form of a baby, at that - so he could live with us and die for us is the love that gives us reason to reflect and then collapse to birth a new light - a light that joins that of our Father's who taught us how to shine it.


This is my reminder this Christmas. When opinionated, confrontational people lead me to want to retreat the other way, I can stay in the room and love. When I hear someone shout "Black Lives Matter" and "Me Too" I can respond, "I see you, and I'm sorry." When someone makes assumptions of me, false accusations against me, and far fetched claims I can listen and understand before I speak or defend.

When we respond in these ways we are choosing to collapse, to not feed the sin and error but instead usher in the new and glorious morning. And a thrill of hope will pierce what has hardened in our hearts, and new light will form.