The Telescope on Christmas Morning

When NASA released the first deep-field images from the James Webb Space Telescope in July 2022, astronomer Jane Rigby stood at the podium in Greenbelt, Maryland, and wept. The images revealed galaxies formed just 300 million years after the beginning of the universe — light that had been traveling toward us for over thirteen billion years. Light that predated every human civilization, every language, every prayer ever uttered.

James tells us that every good and perfect gift comes down from the Father of the heavenly lights. Not occasionally. Not when we deserve it. Every single one. And unlike the stars that flicker and fade, unlike galaxies that shift and collapse, the Giver does not change like shifting shadows.

Think about what that means. The same God who flung those ancient galaxies into the void is the One who placed breath in your lungs this morning. The same Father who lit the first star is the One who lit the spark of hope you felt last Tuesday when a friend called at exactly the right moment. The goodness isn't random. It has a Source, and that Source is relentlessly generous.

Jane Rigby said something that day that sounds like theology: "The universe is beautiful, and I didn't have to wish for it." Neither do we. Every good gift is already on its way down, streaming toward us from a Father whose nature is to give, whose character never shifts, whose lights never go out.