This event is equal parts absurd and astounding, and I couldn’t help but think that Madeleine L’Engle would have had something to say about it. In fact, the very chapter I was reading the day of the launch seemed to speak to this event on some level.
In chapter 11 of The Rock That Is Higher, she writes, “When we human creatures opened the heart of the atom we opened ourselves to the possibility of terrible destruction, but also—and we tend to forget this—to a vision of interrelatedness and unity that can provide a theology for us to live by.”
I cannot help but wonder: To what have we opened ourselves by flinging wide the door of space through the launch of Falcon Heavy?
We human creatures continue to expand our power for destruction through technology. We have created our own annihilation through nuclear, chemical, and technological weaponry. But we have also created incredible opportunities for global connection—and perhaps even galactic connection beyond our wildest imaginings. As with every major moment in history, we are on the precipice of incomprehensible change, and also a chance to discover more about Creation and our Maker.
Watching the SpaceX launch was like watching a fairy tale in action. Hundreds of people came together to open new doors, to walk boldly into mystery, and their daring now means we must all live in a world that is irrevocably changed by their audacious curiosity. These younger sons and true princesses, as L’Engle would undoubtedly call them, have launched our global community on a new quest. Will we, the church, be brave enough to allow this quest to bring up new questions—questions about God, about Creation, about our place in the universe, about the truth of Christ? Will we find in this moment a “vision of interrelatedness and unity that can provide a theology for us to live by”?
I hope so.
L’Engle says, “The discoveries made since the heart of the atom was opened have changed our view of the universe and of Creation….The universe is far greater and grander and less predictable than anyone realized, and one reaction to this is to turn our back on the glory and settle for a small, tribal god who forbids questions of any kind. Another reaction is to feel so small and valueless in comparison to the enormity of the universe that it becomes impossible to believe in a God who can be bothered with us tiny, finite creatures….Or we can simply rejoice in a God who is beyond our comprehension but who comprehends us and cares about us.”
Nobody knows what discoveries lie along Starman’s orbit, but we can be certain that our view of the universe and of Creation is in for more change. Before we can face these changes, before we can discover a theology of unity and interrelatedness to live by, we must first be willing to ask questions. Questions of ourselves, of our faith, and of the incomprehensible God who loves us completely. Let us rejoice!
Chapter 1: Story as Homecoming
After a terrible car accident in which she was badly hurt, L’Engle relied heavily on the Jesus Prayer (“Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me”). Is there a specific prayer you find yourself turning to time and again? What is it? If you don’t have one, do you think such a prayer would be helpful or comforting?
Does the idea of your death frighten you? Why or why not? Have you ever, like the author, felt a sense of “readiness…assurance that whatever happened all would be well”?
L’Engle says that the accident and her injuries “wakened all my primordial fears, fear of isolation, fear of being enclosed, fear of dark.” Have you ever experienced a time when your “primordial fears” were awakened? What caused this? Did fear drive you toward God, or did it make you feel farther from God?
During her time in the hospital, L’Engle found comfort in the story of Jesus’ anguish. Knowing that God had experienced—and was willing to experience—pain and agony of spirit, as she was experiencing at that time, gave her hope. She says, “This is the story that gives meaning to my life.” How does the humanity of Jesus give meaning to your life or bring you comfort? What moments in Jesus’ life feel the most relatable to you?
Despite her condition, the author found joy in her faith. She says, “I was grateful that my faith is more a matter of joy than of security.” What do you think she means by this? Do you find security in your faith? Why or why not?
Why is it important to put down roots? In what ways have you put down roots in your life? Have you ever experienced a time of feeling rootless? How did this affect your faith?
What do you think of the author’s definition of love: “Love is not so much what you feel as what you do”? Do you agree? Why is love talked about in terms of feelings so much in today’s society? How is love weakened when defined as only a feeling?
Chapter 2: Story as a Family Affair
L’Engle says the stories of women in Scripture “helped me to hold high the image of women.” She mentions a few women whose stories inspired her—Deborah, Esther, Jael. What have the stories in Scripture taught you about women? Which women inspire you? Which stories challenge you? How do these stories inform your understanding of God?
Who do you consider to be your family? How have these people shaped you and supported you in times of trial or pain? Have you ever been separated from your family? How did that separation make you feel?
Have you ever had to make a choice in which there seemed to be no right answer? L’Engle says, “Sometimes we are in situations where there is no right choice, and we have to make the choice which we prayerfully believe to be the least wrong, never forgetting that it is wrong.” Do you agree with her? If you’ve been in this situation, describe it and share why you made the choice you did. If you haven’t, think of an example from history where there seemed no right choice. Where is God in these situations?
L’Engle says, “We cannot know with our minds alone the mind of God. We can try to understand with our hearts, and sometimes that understanding comes when we are brave enough to ask questions.” Why is asking questions brave? Is there risk in asking questions? What questions do you have about God?
The author calls the Trinity the “true metaphor for family,” but says that churches today skip over the Trinity because it is a difficult aspect of faith to understand. She says, “We are also skipping over and dispensing with family, forgetting the joys of unity in diversity.” What does she mean by “unity in diversity”? How does your own family demonstrate unity in diversity? How does this relate to the Trinity?
Chapter 3: Story as Affirmation of God’s Love
During her difficult recuperation in the hospital, L’Engle did not protest when a good friend offered to help her, saying, “I remembered that Jesus did not carry his own cross all the way. He stumbled and fell under the burden of the cross, and Simon of Cyrene carried it for him.” Does this element of Jesus’ story comfort you? Do you struggle with asking for help? Why or why not?
What is the difference between right and necessary? How do these concepts sometimes come into conflict with each other? Can you think of an example in your life when you had to choose between right and necessary?
Ultimately, L’Engle is able to trust in God—despite her questions and doubts—because of love. She says, “The basic truth for me, the freeing truth, is God’s love, God’s total, unequivocal love.” How does the truth of God’s love free you? How do you reflect God’s love, even in times of anger or frustration with someone? Have you ever lost faith in God’s love?
L’Engle points out that Jesus, in his humanness, felt both fear and anger. He did not, however, stay in his fear or anger. She says, “He always turned to his loving Abba, Papa, Daddy. ‘Not my will,’ he said in the garden, ‘not my will, but yours.’ ” Is it difficult to turn to God in your anger or fear? Why? How do you avoid staying in fear or anger?
The author says that “forgiveness is a gift of grace rather than an act of will.” She
says that there is a test to see if you’ve really forgiven someone: “Look at whatever it is that needs to be forgiven and see if it still hurts. If it does, forgiveness has not yet happened.” Do you agree with her? Have you ever struggled to forgive someone? Have you ever struggled to forgive yourself? What has made forgiveness possible for you?
Chapter 4: Story as the Search for Truth
This chapter opens with bold words about truth. Reread the first few paragraphs of this chapter. L’Engle says, “Truth is frightening” and “Truth is demanding.” What is frightening about it? How is it demanding?
How do we often confuse truth and fact? What is the difference between them? Why is truth, as the author says, outside of the “limited realm of literalism”? What does she mean by this?
She says, “Truth does not deny reason, but reason alone is not enough. If truth and reason appear to be in conflict, then both must be re-examined, and scientists are as reluctant to do this tough work as are theologians.” What do you think she means? How are truth and reason related? How can they be in conflict? What “work” must be done if they appear to be in conflict?
L’Engle says, “I wish the church would be brave enough to acknowledge that there are questions to which, during our mortal lives, we have no answers.” Do you think this is true? What questions might there not be answers for in this life? Does this idea bother you? Comfort you? Why or why not?
When she was verbally attacked by an audience member at a lecture, L’Engle responded with prayer, though the incident shook her. She recognizes that her own faith—one that is built around questions and revelation instead of literalism—is not always comfortable because it pushes her, but she would not want anyone to take away her faith simply because “it is not exactly like someone else’s.” Likewise, she wouldn’t want to shake the faith of another, even if that individual’s faith was, to her, rigid or literalistic. Are there people in your life whose faith looks very different from your own? Are you ever tempted to push them into an understanding that is more like yours? Why or why not? If faith looks so different for so many, of what can you be sure?
Chapter 5: Story as Scripture
What was the main characteristic of God that you knew as a child? An angry God? Distant? Compassionate? Judgmental? L’Engle says, “Unlike many people I have encountered, I have not had to spend a lot of my adult life unlearning the horrors of an angry God.” Have you had to spend time unlearning the God of your childhood, or have you, like the author, grown up with an image of a “God of love, total love”?
The author discusses her relationship with the Bible frequently throughout this book. She had a deep love of Scripture and read it with disciplined regularity—but she also enjoyed it. She relished the stories and found solace as well as guidance in them. What is your relationship with Scripture like? Do you struggle with it in any way? What about the Bible is difficult for you? What do you love about it?
Through an assignment completed by one of her writing students, L’Engle encountered a new perspective on the story of Abraham and Isaac. Instead of seeing Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac as a triumph, L’Engle’s student presented it as Abraham’s failure to choose love over the law. What do you think about this? How does this alternative perspective challenge your assumptions and interpretation of the story and of God?
Instead of thinking about God in gendered terms, L’Engle offers the metaphor of being an “infant in the womb, totally nourished, fed, warmed, completely cared for, but with no image of the Caregiver.” What do you think of this metaphor? Does it help or confuse your image of God? Why? Do you think of God in terms of gender?
What is the difference between wisdom and knowledge? L’Engle says, “We are, all of us, male and female, supposed to contain within ourselves the qualities of each. The people I know who use their intellect to the fullest, while never losing the intuitive and the imaginative, are indeed luminous.” Do you know anyone who is luminous in this way? How can we find a balance between fact and truth in our own lives?
Chapter 6: Story as the Lord’s Prayer
In this chapter, L’Engle walks through the Lord’s Prayer line by line. What is your relationship with the Lord’s Prayer? Is it something you grew up praying but gave little thought to? Do you pray it weekly or even daily? Does L’Engle’s examination of the prayer deepen your own understanding of it at all? Why or why not?
L’Engle says that the coming of God’s kingdom “is what co-creation with our Maker is all about.” She continues, “Our calling, our vocation in all we do and are to try to do is to help in the furthering of the coming of the kingdom.” Have you ever thought of your vocation in this way? What is your vocation? If you aren’t sure, then how about this—what do you most enjoy doing? Why? How does this further the coming of the kingdom of heaven?
During her healing process, L’Engle found she would become overtired, and realized that she had been “willful rather than obedient.” Have you ever experienced this? What is something you tend to be willful over? How do you know the difference between your own willfulness and your obedience?
L’Engle says, “As long as any part of the body is hungry, the entire body knows starvation. But again, we do not need to think of our obligation in terms of success; we would fail to do anything at all if we knew we had to succeed. We simply do what we can; we offer our little loaves and fishes and leave the rest to the Lord.” What do you think about this statement? What, according to the author here, is our responsibility to those who are suffering in the world? How does this statement shape or challenge your understanding of Christian social justice?
Though originally published in 1993, this book confronts a number of political and social issues that continue to feel relevant today. L’Engle says, “Today one of the temptations is to feel that we must be either politically correct, social activists, or that we must be withdrawn from the world in order to pray.” Do you think this is still true? What temptations do we face in today’s political and cultural climate? Cynicism, anger, zealotry, withdrawal, denial, hatred, excessive guilt, pride, fear, despondency? How do we avoid these temptations?
Chapter 7: Story as Community
What is the first community you remember being a part of? What community is part of your life now?
How do you engage in your communities? What do your communities offer you that you could not experience alone? How does community shape your understanding of God?
Do you remember a time in your life when there was no conflict at all? Do you agree with L’Engle when she says, “I’m not at all sure that life without conflict would be desirable”? Why or why not? How does conflict strengthen us?
L’Engle says, “It is only when I am able to acknowledge my own failures that I am free to be part of a community, and part of that freedom is to be able to accept that the community itself is going to fail.” What does she mean by this? How does recognition of our own failures enable us to be part of a community? How does community fail us?
Look back on a time that a community you were part of failed or failed you in some way. What did you expect of that community? Why did you expect these things? L’Engle says, “It is only when we are not rigid in our expectations of our communities and when our doors are wide open, that [Jesus] may choose to come, with the stranger, into our midst.” Do you agree with her? How do we prevent our expectations of community from becoming rigid?
Chapter 8: Story as Joy
Do you enjoy your faith? Why or why not? What does it mean if you do enjoy it? What do you think it means if you don’t enjoy it?
Think of some of the most joyful moments in your life. Why were they joyful?
L’Engle says, “Fun can frequently be t
he doorway to joy.” Do you agree? When do you have the most fun? With whom do you have the most fun? Have you ever had fun with God?
In what ways have we used the name of Jesus—which should be life-giving—to deal out death or pain? How can we avoid this?
L’Engle encourages us to “take Scripture seriously rather than literally.” What does she mean by this? What is the difference between the two?
Chapter 9: Story as Good News
Several times, L’Engle affirms that “Matter matters.” What does she mean by this? Is this thought comforting to you? Why or why not?
The author says that “the difference between happiness and joy is sorrow.” What does this mean? Do you agree with her? How does sorrow lead to joy?
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