Brehm Center

    Maybe because of lasting impressions of Christmas and Epiphany, I can't stop thinking about stars. (And I mean the ones that have evoked the human imagination far longer and are less visible than the ones here in LA). Nearly every night when I walk I find myself looking up, and in spite of the light pollution, I can still make out a few constellations that I know: Orion and his belt, the Big Dipper and a faint view of Seven Sisters. That’s about all I remember from 4^th grade astronomy anyway.

   When my husband and I drove back from Colorado to the Southland after New Years, we stopped in the middle nowhere in Nevada. We both were awestruck by the mass of greater and lesser stars we could see. Our necks craned, we could hardly make out good ol’ Orion or the dipper amidst the countless others. Have you ever had that opportunity? To think that that same sky captured the imagination of generations, how much greater impact would there be on the imagination in a world lit only by fire, a stable hope in the dark of night? It is no wonder that from these stars came stories like that of the Seven Sisters, Leo and so many more. Their imaginative potential is found in the Psalms, and in the star of the Magi’s’ wonder. However, they too show up in chapter one of the story, one of God’s first creative bursts: “'Let there be lights in the expanse of the sky to separate day and night; let them serve as signs…’ And it was so.”

    It is on this point that I have been most in wonder lately, thanks to my Dad. He’s an engineer, a mathematician and finds his faith fueled by connections with science. But lately we’ve found shared interests, where the wonder of science and the imagination of artists are met in God’s creation. My dad had sent me a DVD called “The Star of Bethlehem,” and while I knew he was excited about it -maybe because it smelled of too many a forwarded email I’ve received- it took me months to finally sit down and watch. But I finally did, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since. (Sorry, I didn't give you the benefit of the doubt, Dad) You see, as many a person more observant and wise than I have found, the movement of the stars is constant, steady and predictable. Therefore we are now able to see what the night sky looked like at any place in any time of history. It is on this technology that “The star of Bethlehem” is based. And why my mathematical father is so intrigued.

   However, as the DVD explores the possibilities of what “star” the Magi would have followed to Bethlehem, it also draws upon a rich history of star symbolism and meaning. For example, peoples long before Christ had named the stars and constellations, from which we get many Greek myths and the like. There are constellations of the Virgin, the Lamb, the Lion and others whose movement came together in striking ways that correlate with the Christ event that was to come countless years later: a slain lamb, the lion of Judah, born to a virgin. It excites the imagination to think about, especially considering that these stars were put into motion already on “day four!” Likewise, what does it mean that these stars also “told” of not only Christ’s coming but, his death, even before Adam and Eve were created, let alone sinned. There’s some food for thought.

    As an artist I was further struck by the idea that God put the stars there, but it was through generations of neck-craning philosophers and storytellers’ imagination we found their deeper meaning. It is in such orchestrated ways that our God works, and I am in awe. Whether scientist, philosopher and artist we freely think, imagine and create in response to the world, only to find ourselves kneeling before our King who divinely inspired our own imaginings. And so I wonder: Is this true of all creative processes, at least in their potential? And can we also, see, really see, imagine and follow where it (God?) leads?

To find out more about "The Star of Bethlehem" DVD, go to: http://thestarofbethlehemmovie.com