Four Of Us were at home, sharing the reading together of God’s word, when there was a country-wide power failure. Power cuts are not uncommon in Caribbean countries, of course, but this one was unexpected and unusually widespread. Going outside to investigate its extent and likely duration, the darkness was intense. There was no moon. But then the full glory of the starry heavens became apparent, and it was breathtaking in its majesty. It was a rare moment of awe at the handiwork of the Creator: “He also made the stars. God set them in the expanse of the sky to govern the night. His love endures forever” (Gen. 1:16; Psa. 136:9).

Nowadays, most of us have difficulty in appreciating what Paul called “the splendor of the heavenly bodies” where “star differs from star in splendor” (I Cor. 15:40-41). For one thing, many of us live in cities where artificial light outshines the stars (it’s God’s power we use: it’s not really made by the power company). So we have no way of appreciating the brilliance of the starry sky. Then again, in recent times, air pollution on a global scale has become such as to spread a dirty veil between us and outer space.

In Bible times it was different. There was no air pollution then. The skies were crystal clear, like it is possible to find nowadays only in some parts of Australia and the isolated islands of the southern ocean. Up to the 19th century, it was possible regularly to see Cuba and Haiti from Jamaica, and almost all of the land from appropriate hilltops as did Abraham and Moses.

When the angel of Yahweh wanted to impress Abraham with the greatness and certainty of God’s promises, “He took him outside and said, Look up at the heavens and count the stars — if indeed you can count them. Then he said to him, So shall your offspring be.” As a wandering nomad on the desert fringe, Abraham would often have gazed heavenward and meditated on the marvel and miracle of God’s redemptive purpose with all mankind.

It is not surprising that in the Bible the sight of the starry heavens is meant to stir within us an awareness of the future glory that will be ours in the age to come if we are faithful now. Daniel was told: “those who lead many to righteousness [will shine] like the stars for ever and ever” (Dan. 12:3). What an encouragement to all of us who are campaigning for Christ and trying to lead others in the way of salvation!

But the message of the starry sky is not confined to comparing them with our future experience as glorified saints invested with the power of an endless life. In a wonderful passage, glowing with emotion, Paul reminds the Philippian believers, and us, of our present mission as Christadelphians worldwide: “you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life” (Phil. 2:15-16). As we gasped in awe that night of the power cut at the “spangled heavens, a shining frame” (Hymn 79), we just had to ask ourselves, “That glorious canopy of stars, spread across the globe, is a picture of all our ecclesias worldwide. Is it really true?” Paul tells us that if we are really preaching the way of salvation, it will be true!

Then Paul immediately adds a thought that pulls us up sharp, “That I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing” (Phil. 2:16). Does he really mean that we can boast about what we have done for the Lord? There is no doubt that kaychema does mean “boast.” But read the context carefully. You will see that what Paul is going to boast about in the day of Christ (that is, the judgment) is not his own work but the glorious, star-like lives of those who, through his unselfish labors, had come to know and serve the Lord “in a crooked and depraved generation.” If his generation could be so described, what about ours?

Look at the sky tonight, brother, sister. Gaze in wonder, even though it may only be a dimmed vision of its glory. And ask anew: are you shining as one of those stars as you hold out the word of life?