Catch a Falling Star

A few nights ago I saw, under the fading shadow of half a silver penny moon - the weeping death of shooting stars - seven in all during the deepest black of a winter's night. 

 

My mind has been reeling in the aftermath of the Geminid meteor showers.  And if there really was a way for random things to click, connect - to help us make sense of the bigger picture, then I wonder about what then occurred in the wider world, and within the small confines of my inner world.

 

The very next morning, news broke on how a small café in Sydney, Australia had come under siege by a lone gunman.  I watched in horror at the gruesome finale of that 16 hour event, when heavily armed police showered the coffee shop with bullets and stun grenades. That, and many previous moments of history that recorded the lowest lows in human depravity, felt like a punch to my solar plexus.   I felt instantly repulsed.  Even when violence comes in the shape of rescue, it is violence nonetheless.  How far have we truly fallen from the glory of what we were once made to display.  

 

The death toll on the night of the fallen stars were in the hundreds, even if I'd personally only seen seven. The death toll in Australia was three.  Ah, but what is the extinguishing of a comet compared to the end of a precious human life?  Think again, and consider this.  What are these comets, what was their purpose and role in the scheme of human life?  How may we view them In the story of Creation?  

 

I watched a programme only last night about the recent space mission masterminded by the European Space Agency.  It was something that had so captured the attention and imagination of the world because it had significance on a par with man's first landing on the Moon.  Over a decade ago scientists had sent a satellite called Rosetta into orbit, carrying with it a small data-gathering robot called Philae, which they had planned to land on an incredibly fast moving comet some 500 million kilometres away from Earth.  The project had involved the career best from space researchers at the prime of their working lives.  One particular aspect of the enquiry was a study of comet-planet collisions, which postulated the idea that it was in the aftermath of such clashes, that life on earth began.  From research involving the components of comet ice - which has been confirmed through empirical space data - analysts have found how the existing simpler molecules in the ice (such as carbon dioxide, ammonia, hydrogen) would upon simulated collision, generate the creation of far more complex compound molecules.  Most significantly, the simple molecules broke down and regrouped to form amino acids - in short, the foundational contents in the nucleus of all life forms as we know it.

 

In short, the theory is that it was comets which brought essential life-building materials to planet Earth.  We have an abundance of evidence that Earth has experienced many incidences of cometary clashes, tracing back to prehistoric times. It would not be a reach too far to surmise that such activity has occurred even before humans had the technology to record these collisions.

 

I have no substantial backlog of serious study to support any claims about my knowledge of theology, biology, archeology or anthropology.  Only a simple awe and wonder at the mystery, beauty and infinite value of Creation as we know it.  And put all this into the context of one short line: "Hands that flung stars into space."  Was that all the Creator needed to do - sow a handful of stars into pitch blackness in one  affectionate, magnanimous sweep, and let them reel, soar, spin - collide if they must thereafter.  Because all life and love, all glory that could be glory, all order, rhyme and reason - is already implicit in each heavenly body that was spoken into being.  So even a lump of space rock might bear the fingerprints of the Life Giver himself, and in the fullness of time and endless orbit, they would serve out their purpose in a crashing death.  

 

Perhaps on the night of the meteor showers, many of them had missed their mark to spawn even more life.  And in their deaths they could only sigh a short-lived brightness reflecting the Maker's far greater radiance.  But if we are ever so fortunate to be present at a life's beginning or its end, we surely stand on holy ground. For we stand with the one who is Alpha and Omega, who alone witnesses all life's coming in, and going out.  And blessed are you indeed if any of those lives intersect with your own.  Just as a comet could generate life to planets as they collide, one human life has the potential to impact another, and make it meaningful, precious, worth living. 

 

Both in the death of stars and in the victims of the siege Down Under, we sense the fragility and brevity of life.  Time, whether as light years spun out in silent outer space, or as our allotted however many scores back here on Earth - eventually runs out for each of us. Those trapped in the Twin Towers, or the hijacked planes on 9/11 - had only messages they desperately needed others to know:  I love you. You're forgiven.  Don't worry.  I'm sorry. And - I'm here.   I wondered if any of the hostages in the Sydney Café tried to tell similar things to their significant others.  The two innocent  victims can never speak again to their loved ones.  To explain.  To ask pardon for leaving in such a manner. To comfort.  To promise undying love.  They've gone in a millisecond, but a flash to those who knew them, and cherished them.

 

I guess if I had a point to make, it is to exhort you never to lose a moment, not a second - to tell someone you loved that you loved them.  Everyday. Say how they have impacted your life, how precious they are because of that.  And if you could stand on some dark night, with your hand in theirs:  search the skies for a falling star, and mark its momentary brilliance with a silent prayer of thanksgiving.