Day 27 of Lent: March 31, 2025

Ashes to Alleluia: Shine Like Stars

Philippians 2:14–15 (NRSV): “Do all things without murmuring and arguing, so that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, in which you shine like stars in the world.”

There’s something about the night sky that stirs the soul. I miss really getting to see stars fully in the suburbs which is why when I am out where I can really see them I probably spend way too much time gazing into its vastness.

I’ve discovered though that even in the deepest darkness or in the city light obstructed night sky the stars still shine—small but steady lights that quietly hold their place in the universe. 

I think Paul must’ve looked up at the stars on a few long nights, maybe while traveling, maybe while in prison, and found some comfort in their presence. It’s no wonder he used this image when writing to the church at Philippi: in a world where division and noise seem to fill every corner, the call is simple—don’t add to it. Instead, live differently. Live kindly. Shine.

As an assistant principal, I wear a lot of hats—teacher supporter, student encourager, parent listener, data analyzer, fixer of forgotten snacks and all other duties as assigned!

But mostly, I see myself as a coach—someone who teaches, guides and helps shape young people into not just scholars, but good neighbors. Thinking of it like this it seems perhaps I could be called a shepherd.

For me, it’s not just about what our students learn, but who they’re becoming. I tell them often: being smart is wonderful, but being kind is essential. That’s the kind of people the world really needs.

I can’t nor should any adult talk about Jesus or faith at school, but I can live out my faith. I can show up with patience. I can listen well. I can look a child in the eye and remind them they matter. I can help them learn how to be a good friend. I can offer grace, even on the tough days. And in doing so, I hope something shines.

Maybe that’s what Paul meant. That in the long stretch between ashes and alleluia, in the quiet everyday decisions we make, we choose to live as lights in the dark. Not by grand gestures, but by the way we walk through the halls, the way we speak with love, the way we practice joy even when it’s hard.

So let us take these days of Lent to quiet the murmuring in our own hearts. To let go of the arguments, the complaints, the habits that dim who we are as followers of Jesus. And let us choose instead to shine—not for show, but because the world needs a steady light.

So don’t forget to shine like a star today, and everyday.

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Alleluia. Amen.