“There is one glory of the sun, and another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for star differs from star in glory.” 1 Corinthians 15:41

My grandson, Joel, held his mother’s hand as they walked to the car. He had spent the last few hours playing with his friends, Landon and Lydia. They giggled and played in the finished basement while we adults were upstairs chatting about our holidays. Although it was past his bedtime, the crisp cold air along and his time with his friends had invigorated him. He stopped and looked up at the sky and noticed all the twinkling stars. He shared his observation with his parents, that the “Stars were at Landon’s house!” Half an hour later, Joel arrived at our house. With stars and friends still in his mind, he immediately looked up at the sky as he stepped out of the car. To his dismay, clouds covered the night sky, hiding his twinkling stars. Dejected, Joel said “The stars only shine at my friend’s house.”

There is something magical about looking up at the night sky. Vincent van Gogh, the artist who painted Starry Night remarked, “For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me want to dream.” These tiny specks of light have enamored people for millennia, making astronomy one of the oldest natural sciences. Even David in the Bible pondered his significance when looking at the night sky. He wrote in Psalm 8:3-4, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon, and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him?”

My husband is generally an even-keeled person. But there are a few things that delight this man invoking animated responses, including our grandchildren, books, trees, and the sky. A few nights ago, he yelled across the house, “Sherry, come here quickly!” I stopped my mundane household task and ran to the front door. He grabbed my hand and ushered me outside to gaze at the dark sky. He pointed up to a few bright stars, and named one of them Beetlejuice which, until that moment, I thought was just the title of a strange movie (the actual spelling of the star is Betelgeuse). He recently downloaded an app that would point out any given stars visible on a given night based on our location. I smiled as I held my husband’s hand, sharing in his delight of planets and stars.

But this ability to marvel at the night sky is quickly disappearing due to our addiction to artificial light. This is known as light pollution, a term I didn’t understand. I knew how industries’ careless waste had affected our water, experienced the effects of poor air quality, and despaired how our soil degradation mutes the taste of our food. But what is light pollution and why is it such a big deal? Other than making the night sky less visible, how is light pollution impacting my daily life, and why should I care about it?

This attitude changed after listening to an episode of The 1000 Hours Outside podcast hosted by Ginny Yurich and featuring Paul Bogard. They were discussing Bogard’s book The End of Night: Searching for Natural Darkness in an Age of Artificial Light. I have been struggling with menopausal insomnia along with an overactive bladder, causing me to use the bathroom at night. What resonated the most with me during that podcast is how our use of artificial light decreases and even interrupts our natural melatonin production. Research indicates children and adults alike have an increase in sleep disorders due to our screen addiction and use of light. Along with reducing our use of screens, Bogard suggested using a red nightlight at night instead of flipping on our light switches. This simple change can help maintain our natural melatonin. I shared the idea with my husband. After a little research, we purchased a motion sensor red light for our bathroom. This insignificant purchase was a game changer for me. No longer are the glaring lights waking me up if I have to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, making it difficult to fall back to sleep. Instead, I walk out of the bathroom with the red glow lighting my path, lay down my head on the pillow, and dissolve back into dreamland.

This podcast prompted me to find Bogard’s book at our local library, and I began to read how light pollution affects more than just our melatonin levels. Researchers believe it is changing the habits of nocturnal animals, affecting their mating habits, feeding schedules, and habitats. Frogs croaking during mating season are confused by the artificial light in their habitats, thus reducing reproduction. Baby turtle hatchlings look for the natural light across the ocean’s horizon. They have a short period of time to reach the ocean so that they can grow and thrive. Unfortunately, city lights blazing at night confuse these poor hatchlings, causing hundreds of them to die before reaching the sea. Research demonstrates the impact artificial light has on bats and opossums in the ecosystem. Without these two species living and feeding optimally in the dark, ticks and mosquitos thrive, increasing the risk of Lyme Disease and malaria. And the list goes on and on.

Yet, we believe we need light to be safe and to prevent crime. This is evident by how many homes use bright floodlights near garages and closed businesses light up their parking lots at night. In the book, Bogard refutes this argument. He shows two identical pictures of someone’s yard, one with a light and one without. Even on my e-reader, the grainy images clearly showed how the one with the light prevented me from seeing the person at the gate, whereas the one without the light, I could easily see the potential intruder. The use of light produces shadows and obscures our view. FBI and other crime prevention agencies are not seeing any evidence that well-lit areas are keeping away intruders or preventing crime. Instead, some are arguing that more light increases the likelihood of criminals feeling safe and less obvious in their endeavors. On the other hand, in Bristol, England, officials have seen a 50% drop in crime since the lights were turned off after midnight. People also argue that well-lit highways and roadways at night prevent accidents. Again, the evidence shows that roads with less light force drivers to slow down, thus reducing the potential for accidents.

Finally, we receive an intangible good that we can only access from a dark night full of stars. This is not measured by statistics and dollars. Instead, it’s a feeling of wonder and awe that can only be experienced when looking up at the heavens and actually seeing something. And in turn, this feeling has inspired poets, philosophers, writers, artists, and musicians to create beauty by trying to express this feeling of awe. I had this awe-filled experience a few years ago when I started going for walks in the predawn hours. These dark walks helped me grapple with Covid-19, the death of my uncles, and other major changes in my life. Looking up at the moon and stars reminded me of God’s sovereignty and majesty. Knowing that He artfully placed these lights in the sky and created galaxies larger than I can even imagine, helped me realize that He had everything under control. It made His love feel more comforting and, somehow, He felt closer.

One astronomer, Bob Berman, said to really be swept away by the night sky and feel infinitude, one would need to see about 450 stars in the sky on a given night. Unfortunately, where most of us live, while the stars are there, they are obscured by city lights. We are lucky to see a dozen stars, or maybe a hundred, if we live in the country. To see that many stars it would have to be in a place where the sky is truly dark. For me, the closest place recognized by astronomers as a dark place is Cherry Springs State Park, about three hours north of me. Unfortunately, even the darkest places on earth keep getting diminished by our increasing obsession with neon signs and large light posts. If we keep going at this rate, how many stars will my grandchildren see at night?  Will they ever be awed by the magnitude of the night sky?

I could articulate my concerns, write this piece, and call it the day. But as a Christian and just being a good human, it is not enough for me to express frustration about this form of pollution without tangibly making some changes to how I live. So, I start by looking at how I am personally contributing to the problem. There are a few days a week where Terry and I are gone from early morning till late at night. For a few months, we decided to turn our outside light on for that entire period. It saved us a few seconds of fumbling at the door with our keys. But this light was not only wasting energy, it also was not helping my nocturnal animal friends who pass through my yard. Now, we keep the light off.

I am sharing my newfound knowledge in a nonjudgmental way with friends in casual conversation. I hope this knowledge will help others question their use of lights at night. I am also going to write to the local convenience store chain in our area, addressing their use of bright lights, suggesting some ways they can reduce their electrical bills and help preserve our night sky in a responsible way. The organization DarkSky International has resources on their website to help with this process. On the local level, I want to be an informed voter, voting for people who are interested in addressing light pollution in our municipal policies.

As a Christian, I should care about preserving the night sky. God created the galaxies as a reminder to us of how great He is. He asks some probing questions in Job 38:31-32, reminding Job of his place in creation. Eugene Peterson paraphrase this in the Message Bible with these words “Can you catch the eye of the beautiful Pleiades sisters, or distract Orion from his hunt?”  When we diminish the view of the sky, are we also diminishing His witness to both unbelievers and believers?

But I haven’t always cared. In looking back on my own record of stewarding the earth, I would have given myself a failing grade until five years ago. I consumed media in an echo chamber that mocked environmentalists and minimized the value of Earth Day. I made a point of not teaching my kids the importance of the three Rs: reduce, reuse, and recycle, and instead, prided myself on teaching them the Bible and its principles. But stewardship of the earth is a Biblical principle as well, and a far-reaching one! In reading the Bible with a healthier perspective, I am seeing how God values his creation and that He wants us to steward this earth well. The three Rs are important and so is the night sky.

I do care now. I want to take a trip with my husband to Cherry Springs State Park. I want to see the grandeur of the galaxy. And for my grandson, Joel, I hope that he always associates the stars with his friends.