December 21: Winter Stolstice, Bethlehem Star, "A Christmas Carol"

 Greetings, stargazers!

On this winter solstice, for the first time in 800 years, Jupiter and Saturn joined together in the night sky to create what people are calling the Bethlehem star.  A bright eye in the heavens.  To put that into perspective, the last time these two planets were this close to each other, the restoration of the Cathedral of Chartres was completed after it was destroyed by fire in 1194.  Francis of Assisi handed over the governance of the Franciscan Order to Brother Peter Catani.  The world was 100 years away from the Black Plague, which killed one third of the population of Europe.  The Spanish Inquisition began in 1230, and Marco Polo traveled to China in 1270.  The foundation stone of Salisbury Cathedral was laid.  And Christmas Day, 1220, fell on a Wednesday.

I had planned to witness this celestial event.  However, being a resident of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, the skies do not always cooperate.  Heavy snow clouds tonight.  No stars or moon visible.  The Star of Bethlehem remains hidden from this particular magi.  

Yet, it was a magical evening.  The sun disappeared around 5 p.m.  At 7 p.m., a group of my actor friends got together for a dramatic reading of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, an adaptation by James Hutchison.  It was a fundraiser that I organized for local homeless shelters.  And it was glorious.  

Charles Dickens is one of my favorite authors, and my mother first read me A Christmas Carol when I was about six or seven years old.  So, as I sat at my laptop and listened to the performance, it was almost like sitting next to my mother as she read, "Marley was dead to begin with with  . . ."

I spent most of the day in preparation for this program, sending out emails to the actors and presenters.  Updating promotional information.  Writing introductions.  By the time Jupiter and Saturn were dancing, the reading had begun.  

For most of my adult life, I worked in the healthcare industry.  It was work that I enjoyed, and it provided my family with insurance and a steady income.  However, it was not work that fed my creative soul.  Now, working for the library, I'm able to produce staged readings of plays, organize poetry and musical events.  Last Monday, I spent a few hours composing a poem for a Christmas video.  And I'm getting PAID to do all of it.  Paid to create art.

That is an amazing privilege.  

Here are a few snapshots of my day:

• Today was my beautiful daughter's last day of quarantine.  She is now considered "recovered" from COVID, even though she still can smell or taste nothing.
• My beautiful actor friends gave a tremendous performance of A Christmas Carol, and it was viewed by people as far away as Australia.
• I sent a recording of my annual Christmas essay to the local Public Radio station.  I hope there is some beauty in it. 
• After the performance was over, I was exhausted.  I changed into my pajamas, popped the beautiful movie Love Actually into the Blu-ray player, sat on my couch, and promptly fell asleep.  I woke up at 2 a.m. and finished this blog post.

There is grace at work in my life.  A pastor friend defines grace as evidence of God's ridiculously extravagant love for us.  We don't earn grace.  It's simply given to us.

On this shortest day and longest night of the year, with Saturn and Jupiter embracing in the heavens, Saint Marty was the recipient of God's extravagant love.  For that miracle, he gives thanks.