A short historical look at supernovae

Though observed supernovae occur many light years away from our home on Earth, they have found their way into our history and hearts. The term ``nova'' meaning ``new'' might seem like an ironic descriptor of a dying star, merely named this way because the increase in luminosity from an old star to a supernova is so great that the supernova appears to be a new star.  Perhaps the term is an apt one, however. Though supernovae occur at the end of a star's existence, they can also symbolize potential for new star forming regions. Supernovae seem to have a sense of hope in destruction about them.

Not surprisingly, we have been fascinated by these dramatic events in the sky throughout history. The first recorded supernova, observed in A. D. 1006 and recorded in Europe, China, Japan, Egypt, and Iraq, was "a little more than a quarter of the brightness of the moon" according to Egyptian student Ali Ridwan. Just 48 years later, another "guest star", which was also bright enough to be seen in the day, appeared in Taurus, and left behind the elegant crab supernova remnant for us to observe today.

Historic writings suggest that these explosions were both beautiful and terrifying to the cultures who witnessed them. An Arabic medical textbook from A. D. 1242 connected the A. D. 1054 supernova to an outbreak of the plague, stating that the "spectacular star... caused an epidemic to break out in Old Cairo when the Nile was low.''  Upon hearing that the public believed the A. D. 1006 supernova to be an omen of famine, the Chinese Director of the Bureau of Astronomy, Chou K'o-ming, countered general alarm by announcing the new star to be an omen of prosperity occurring during the reign of a very wise leader - a smart career move which soon got him a promotion.

Pictographs found in New Mexico (pictured below) are thought to depict the 1054 supernova.

Five hundred years later, in 1572, Tycho Brahe observed very bright "nova stella'' in the constellation of Cassiopeia. He gave a confident account of the experience in his book De Nova Stella, in which he wrote:

``I noticed that a new and unusual star, surpassing the other stars in brilliancy, was shining almost directly above my head; and since I had, almost from boyhood, known all the stars of the heavens perfectly (there is no great difficulty in attaining that knowledge), it was quite evident to me that there had never before been any star in that place in the sky.'' -Tycho Brahe

Though images such as the Hubble Deep Field suggest that it is quite a bit harder to know all of the stars than Brahe claimed, Brahe's supernova observation signified a cultural turning point, challenging the early Renaissance belief that the stars did not change. The philosophies of that culture would be thoroughly turned upside down by yet another supernova in 1604 observed by Brahe's student, Kepler.

Since Brahe and Kepler's discoveries, we have not observed another supernova in our own galaxy. Fortunately, many spectacular supernovae have been found in surrounding galaxies.  The funny looking character pictured below, Zwicky, found over a hundred supernovae. His classifications pioneered our modern understanding of how supernovae occur.

Recently, in 1994, a particularly beautiful Type Ia supernova was found near the spiral galaxy NGC 4526 (pictured below). SN 1994D was found just outside the galaxy disk, and appeared almost as bright as the galaxy core.

The mechanisms that drive supernovae explosions are quite amazing. Even more incredible to me is the amount of understanding astronomers have gathered about these processes with such seemingly limited information - simply electromagnetic waves telling the story of an explosion from the distant past.

Better Looking

When I considered writing a New Year's post for my blog today, the possessive adjective there stood out to me.  Blogging, in my case, is an inherently selfward-looking activity. So perhaps for the fun of irony, I'm writing a self-examining blog post about looking less at myself. Or rather, about balancing selfward and otherward looking.

It’s a New Year's resolution of sorts. Except not a New Year's resolution, because it stretches back in time before this January. And not a New Year's resolution because my resolutions tend to be quite focused on just myself: Go to the gym three times a week. Read a new book each month. Eat healthier. Sleep more regularly. Learn a new hobby. Etc. These resolutions are good, and I'd like to achieve them, but they all involve a fair bit of navel gazing. I’d like to work on improving that balance: looking selfward enough to make sure I’m eating vegetables everyday, but looking otherward enough to enjoy the beauty of those around me and hopefully to notice their needs.
 
There’s a good quote (I believe by Ethel Barrett), “We would worry less about what others think of us if we knew how seldom they do.”  Occasionally it occurs to me when I'm choosing pretty earrings in the morning that I don't often notice the pretty earrings others wear. I would like to notice more. Not just more pretty earrings, but pretty hearts. Or scared hearts. Or stretching hearts. Or hearts in need of hugs. I have been blessed with beautiful friends - inside and out. And I want to notice the details of their beautifulness more. 

At first, it seemed reasonable to assume that I must at least be otherward-looking in the arena of encouraging others. But thinking about it today, I'm not so sure I have the balance right even in that arena! When a friend or student says something discouraging towards themselves (such as "I'm terrible at physics"), my response – rather than addressing their actual discouragement – often attempts to reassure by sharing something of myself (such as "Oh don't worry - I'm terrible at languages").  I think we all do this at times. The idea is that the person will feel better if they know that they're not the only one who is not having success with ___. But I’m not convinced that this is the most helpful response. Instead I’d like to work on otherward-looking responses (such as “You have a good handle on physics concepts – it might just be the algebra that’s slowing you down” or “look how you improved in chemistry this year – I bet you could do the same in physics”). There is definitely a place for both types of encouragement, but I think I'd like to increase the frequency of my otherward-looking responses - statements that remind the friend or student of their own strengths and hopefully empower them, rather than simply sharing in the discouragement.

I was also thinking about how to apply that balance of selfward and otherward-looking to areas conflict. How do I genuinely look at another person in a conflict - looking at the person and their needs, but not necessarily dwelling on their words if the words aren't beneficial? How do I genuinely look at myself in a conflict - using self-reflection as a means to grow, but not to bully myself - reminding myself of the confidence I have in who I am as a child of God, but choosing to follow the instruction in Philippians 2 to value the other person above myself? These are tough questions for me. I'm currently still sorting out how to answer these questions in a practical application sense, and I have a long ways to go. On Christmas day, I received an email from someone with a rather limited window into my life, who had developed a surprisingly detailed and unfortunate picture of my character and even my thought processes. My initial reaction was a desire to defend myself - to explain why this didn't match my experiences of my thought processes and character. When Jeremy suggested that I refrain from sending that reply, my first thought was, "that's probably wise relationally, but it will be hard on my self-esteem." Surprisingly, the opposite was true. In actively choosing not to defend myself, I realized that I didn't have to. That was quite empowering for me. Certainly, there are times when it is absolutely crucial that people stand up for themselves, but there are also times when the most beneficial and empowering response is to choose not to. So I'm working on learning how to look selfward long enough to discern which criticisms are helpful and which are just false, and how to look otherward long enough to see another child of God, who is given every bit as much as grace as I'm so often in need of. 

The third direction to look will sound like this post is a not-so-secret plug for our church mission statement (reach up, reach in, reach out). While looking selfward and otherward, I want to be continuously looking Christward. Everywhere I go, I'm looking at God's beautiful creation - whether I'm talking about life with a friend or reading a difficult email - when I look at the people around me, I want to be mindful of the fact that I'm looking at masterpieces created by God. And equally challenging, when I look at myself - my mistakes and repeated mistakes - to remember that even then, I'm still looking at a child of God. So this year, I'd like to do better looking. But not in the fashion sense, because I don't have a chance there without Jeremy's shoes ;)