I have often heard it said: "We are stardust."

This is to place us firmly in the order of created (or natural, or material) things. And this we are. We are, incontrovertibly, made of the same stuff as stars.

This is meant both to humble us, and to make us wonder at the interconnectedness of things. Perhaps, in the absence of the Divine, we are to look at the stars and marvel that we are one in substance with such distant, beautiful and powerful entities.

I don't need to be a materialist to appreciate the glory of the stars, nor to shiver at our common heritage.

But we should remember that we are not the only things that are made up of cosmic dust.

Consider this portion of poetry from Daniel Berrigan:

"These are the coldiron embers of Lucifer:
these are the arrogant stars pushed out of heaven.
Then give him a handful of stars: heap stars at his feet.
These are the nails."

If we are stardust, so are the implements of torture and death that crucified Jesus. This reminds me that the Universe, in spite of scientific rationalism, is not neutral. It contains passion. It contains love. It contains hate. Both are implacable.

My body, and Jesus' body, were both formed out of the dust of the Universe. My body may use dust that has been formed into other shapes to mete horrific violence upon my fellow people. Nails made of iron from the heart of stars pierced the feet of the one who fashioned the stars and named them.