On April 16, 1978, in St. Louis, Bob Forsch pitched the first no-hitter of his major league career as a member of the St. Louis Cardinals—a 5-0 victory over the Philadelphia Phillies.
I know about this milestone because I was there. Or more precisely, Mary and I were there, bundled together in the bleak, drizzly cold of an early-spring afternoon.
The memory remains vivid for many reasons. Chief among them: Mary and I were on our way home from the Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri, to Fort Wayne, Indiana. Just eight days earlier, in Franklin, Michigan, we had exchanged our marriage vows. The day after our wedding we set off for the Ozarks for our week-long honeymoon.
It seemed only right—at least to me—that while on our way home we stop for a major league baseball game. Even in miserable weather, baseball called. And somehow, that no-hitter felt like a small sign of validation. A reward, maybe, for the spontaneous detour—despite the six-hour drive still ahead of us.
By the time we reached 1815 ½ High Street, it was late into the night. We’d passed the hours in our VW Rabbit with a stack of Chuck Mangione cassettes and the quiet excitement of newlyweds starting their life together.
We had just started to unpack when the phone rang.
It was late. Most of the Midwest was asleep. But not Mary’s father.
Don Cargo wasn’t interested in no-hitters.
Our arrival had been much later than expected, and that raised alarm. His daughter—though now married—was still his daughter. He had nurtured, protected, and loved her for nearly 22 years. Walking her down the aisle just days earlier hadn’t walked her out of his life.
After a short conversation with Mary, Don’s fears eased, but his call made something very clear to me.
The promise I made at the altar wasn’t just to Mary. It was to her parents, her family, her friends… and her God.
I was to thoughtfully, wisely, humbly, selflessly, and gently steward the relationship I now had as Mary’s husband. Don Cargo wanted to be sure I understood the seriousness of that commitment.
I never forgot the lesson.
Now, 47 years later, it remains etched in my heart. So much so that, after both of Mary’s parents had passed, I asked for the wedding band that Don Cargo had worn for over 60 years. I now wear it alongside the ring Mary placed on my finger on April 8.
Two gold bands that circle the promise I made to both Mary—and her parents.
Division, dissension, bitterness, hatred, prejudice, war, natural disasters, and loneliness all seem to be having their day. It’s hard to watch.
Job put it this way—and he put it well: “Why do the wicked have it so good, live to a ripe old age and get rich? They get to see their children succeed, get to watch and enjoy their grandchildren. Their homes are peaceful and free from fear; they never experience God’s disciplining rod.” (Job 21)
I feel it. And my guess is, so do you.
So, what now?
Solspeil.
Tucked away in Norway is the town of Rjukan. Beautiful, but blocked from the sun in the winter. So, in 1913, the town’s founder, Sam Eyde, came up with an idea: mirrors. Solspeil. Three giant mirrors, placed on a nearby mountain, reflecting the sunlight that winter hid. Mirrors that redirect the powerful rays of the sun into the town square below. Sunshine in the darkness.
Solspeil.
Not the production of light, but the distribution — the conveying of light into the bleak and oppressive darkness. Into the hopeless winter.
I fear that darkness is having its day because we’ve put our mirrors away, or perhaps more accurately, we’ve shifted them.
This is not a question of the trustworthiness of the sun. The power hasn’t waned. We have.
We’ve faced our mirrors in another direction. Toward comfort. Toward accumulation. Toward politics. Toward other leaders. Toward family. Toward position or accomplishment. Toward platforms or policies—even good ones.
Whatever we’ve turned our mirrors toward, it’s not working.
There is no light but Jesus. None.
He made the light personal. And the darkness lashed out. The darkness thought it had won. Light extinguished. Hope vanquished. Mirrors without a light to reflect.
“This is the crisis we’re in: God-light streamed into the world, but men and women everywhere ran for the darkness. They went for the darkness because they were not really interested in pleasing God.”(John 3:19, MSG)
Then. Victory. Resurrection light.
“The Light shines in the darkness. The darkness has never been able to
put out the Light.” (John 1:5)
Never extinguished. Never overcome.
And now, Solspeil.
Jesus put it this way: “You
are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do
people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives
light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others,
so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in
heaven.”(Matthew 5:14–16, ESV)
It’s time to point our mirrors back to the only source of light. It’s time to
reflect what no human, government, peace treaty, stock market surge, or
political party could ever deliver… LIGHT.
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