Monday Morning Musing: Like Stars

In yesterday's first assigned Scripture Reading* the prophet Daniel describes wise people who lead others to righteousness as being like stars that shine forever. Their faithfulness has a lasting impact throughout generations. In my children's sermon I gave them all a handful of glow in the dark stars to put in their rooms or their pockets or in the hands of a friend. It seems that sharing light is exactly right for these days.

And that brought to mind the people who have shared light with me through their wisdom and care and faithfulness. Some of those have been described here before. Some will never leave me. And some come to mind when I least expect it, when I haven't thought of them in awhile. Some who shine in this way are people I don't know but whose words I read regularly in spaces just like this one.

One of the great gifts of growing up in a very small town was that many of my teachers at school were also in the pews at church with me on Sunday. I watched their faith live in the classroom as they taught and cared for us all. One of those teachers, Mrs. L., taught us all how to type. It was an actual class back then! (A-S-D-F-J-K-L-sem!) Who knew it would become such a universal skill in the decades to come? Mrs. L. also shared her great wisdom with her students regularly; she had a unique tone of voice, which I can still call to mind but cannot for the life of me describe here. She was an encourager and a straight shooter. With everyone. What I recall, in particular, was that there was a time when some girls were being cruel to me in that unique way that teenage girls can treat one another. Very Mean Girls. And Mrs. L called me to her desk one day, as we were filing out of the classroom when the bell rang. She never looked up from what she was doing, but said instead that the things those girls were saying were reflections of them and not really about me at all. Of course, now this is a truth I know well, but at sixteen years old, it was a lifesaving word. She went on to say that they didn't deserve my attention or my emotion but that if I continued to give it to them they would continue to torment me. And then she said something I've never forgotten, in her unique voice: "We must love our enemies, Julie, but we do not have to give ourselves to them." Luckily, as the years have passed, Very Mean Girls in my personal trajectory have become fewer. Hopefully as we mature we recognize how much we need each other. But when I've encountered a mean person, a bully, or even just someone whose deep unpleasantness impacts my day, I remember that I do not have to give myself - my energies/attention - over to them. (But yes, Mrs. L., I do have to love them.)

I've thought a lot this week about those people who did not win their races in the most recent election. I mean, I miss Tim Walz's firey, folksy demeanor. I miss Kamala Harris and the joy she carried. I've wondered - what are they doing now? How did they step back into their current offices and the work that is theirs? How have they tended to their spirits and minds in these two weeks? One of the people whose work I read regularly, and who is just such a brillliant writer is Connie Schultz. Her spouse is Senator Sherrod Brown, who lost his race for re-election in Ohio to a wealthy MAGA newcomer. Sherrod Brown is, by even objective non-partisan accounts, one of the best senators to serve Ohio in a very long time. Connie Schultz is a Pulitzer prize winning journalist. She also writes in a space like this and her reflections on this season have been honest and hopeful at the same time. So as I think about all of this collective wisdom and intelligence and experience - the difference these people have made in our world - my prayer is that they will find ways to continue to serve for the common good. To shine their lights. We need them.

When I handed out those glow in the dark stars to the children yesterday, I'd intended to give them each three. Three is a good number and seemed right and I'd still have some left over in case I needed them for something else. But I looked at those bright, hopeful, beautiful faces and I just poured all of the stars into their hands. Knowing that we are the Mrs. L's for them and what we say and how we speak and the wisdom we can share will matter. Someday they might run for office or teach a child or preach a sermon or lead a people. But no matter what it is that they do someday, for this day, they deserve all of the light we can pour into them. We all do. And we all have it to share, each in our own unique way. Give and receive. Receive and give. That's how this works. That's how the wonder that is life works. That's how the light gets in.

*Lutherans and many other mainline denominations follow a set of assigned Scripture readings for use on Sundays. There's something lovely about the idea that we are hearing the same texts read across the globe. It's connection. It also should keep your preachers from going off on whatever tangents they choose, though that is not always guaranteed!

  Those who are wise shall shine

like the brightness of the sky,

and those who lead the many to righteousness,

like the stars forever and ever. - Daniel 12:3