“You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, 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 in heaven.”

– Jesus, Matthew 5:14-16

Beloved of God,

Ironic, isn’t it, that the so-called Season of Light we mark this time of year comes at a most dark and dreary time. The thick cloud cover we’ve been experiencing, coupled with the relentless rain, [SIDEBAR: Yes, I am grateful for all the mountain snow…] can give the impression that we’re actually getting less sunlight now than we did during December’s winter solstice.  Cue Jesus, who has the audacity this month to call us “the light of the world.” I don’t know about you, but sometimes it can be hard to shine—even when we know that’s our job.

In a story he tells about candles in a closet, Max Lucado, I think, gets it right. As the story begins an electrical storm has caused a blackout in his home, so Max feels his way to the closet where the candles are kept. Lighting a match, he finds the shelf of candles.  But as he turns to leave with the largest one lit and in hand, a voice tells him to STOP WHERE HE IS, and he finds himself in conversation with the candle.

“Who are you? What are you?”

        I’M A CANDLE… Don’t take me out of here!

“What?”

        I said, don’t take me out of this room.

“What do you mean? I have to take you out. You’re a candle. Your job is to give light. It’s dark out there.

People are stubbing their toes and walking into walls. You have to come out and light up the place!”

        But you can’t take me out. I’m not ready, the candle explained. I need more preparation.

I couldn’t believe my ears. “More preparation?”

Yeah, I’ve decided I need to research this job of light-giving so I won’t go out and make a bunch of mistakes. You’d be surprised how distorted the glow of an untrained candle can be. So I’m doing some studying. I just finished a book on wind resistance.  I’m in the middle of a great series of tapes on wick build-up and conservation – I’m reading the new best seller on flame display.  Have you heard of it?”

“No,” I answered.

You might like it. It’s called Waxing Eloquently.

Having given up on that particular candle, Max chooses a different one, but the same problem follows. Each candle offers a different excuse for why it can’t go public with its light. None is ready to leave the relative safety of their place on the shelf.  Max pleads with them, but to no avail. Finally, the story ends this way:

I put the big candle on the shelf and took a step back and considered the absurdity of it all. Four perfectly healthy candles [willing to talk about light] but refusing to come out [and let it shine.] I had all I could take. One by one I blew them out…I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked back out into the darkness.

“Max,” asked my wife, “Where are the candles?”

“They don’t…they won’t work. Where did you buy those candles anyway?”

“Oh, they’re church candles. Remember the church that’s closing? I bought them there.”

“At last,” says Max, “I understood.” [1]

Of course the story of is more complicated than that, as all who have struggled to keep a congregation alive well know. Many factors contribute to the rise and fall of a congregation’s life cycle.  Right now, Peace happens to be in the midst of a growing phase, with young and growing families.  What a joy it is!  We’re beating the trends of many of our sister churches.  But those trends can shift if we find ourselves only paying attention to what happens between our walls.

Jesus says so clearly: YOU ALL ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.  Not, YOU HAVE POTENTIAL TO BE LIGHT, but YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD.  We are called as a congregation to visibility!  Sometimes the walls of a church building can become barriers to that visibility.  Sometimes it feels safer inside, with people I know—or am getting to know—and it feels risky to go out purposefully, as community, into the neighborhood, and say WE STAND FOR LIGHT – WE WILL BE LIGHT.  But in order for light to be seen it must come out of the closet.

What does LETTING LIGHT SHINE mean for us as this second decade of the 21^st century unfolds?  It’s a question and a challenge we are called to keep ever before us. We say it this way in our vision statement:

“…We are called to discern God’s presence and invitation into unfamiliar places, and to venture beyond ourselves, so all people will experience God’s love.”

“Beyond ourselves…” In other words, we are called to visibility. Called to venture out of the closet. To bring light; to be light.  And to borrow and share light, especially at times when it seems that the world’s light stores are running low.  That’s a message I, for one, need to hear in the midst of gloomy, dreary days.

Thank you for sharing your light with me.

Pastor Erik

[1] Max Lucado, God Came Near – Chronicles Of The Christ. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1986, 2004). Some edits for brevity.