The Epiphany is a season for light, reflection and color. The gem-cutter sets each stone in its place in proximity to the ones around it. The facets are planned so that the brilliance of light catches on their surfaces and follows back to the rear of the gem only to be refracted again back out in an exponential display of light and colors. The brown stone in this setting is beautiful and yet brown is not a color one normally associated with jewels. This is part of a chest adornment of an Indian maharaja. Brown and yellow stones prevail in the larger, unseen setting. It is unusual, exotic and strangely soothing.
The light of the night-star reminds me that we have been told by science that there is star-dust in everything. We are made of the stars and their dust is in all aspects of our life – food, bodies, everything. This wild, creative God we find ourselves in relationship with is simply not confined, much like the stardust. God creates diamonds and and silver, humans and mountains, green and azure. God also seems to be a great fan of difference. As much as we like to peg God as orderly, careful and methodical, there is a wildness to God which messes with our fetish to have everything labeled, named and set in its right box. Nothing messes with human heads more than God’s wild willingness to constantly be creating new things in creation, just when we thing everything has been cataloged.
What new, wild thing is God doing in my life right now in the light of the star? What new paths are being trodden? What discomfort has begun by my set-in-my ways life being upset by some new, unexpected gift from God? Am I open to such a gift? Can I see that a new wrinkle in my plan might be just the creative ingredient I need to shift me into a new and wondrous place?
The star messed with Herod’s plans. The star sent the wise men on a pathway which changed as the encounter unfolded. Are we too willing to go home in a new and creative way? It can be scary. It can be exciting. It can be life lived to the full.