The 5th Sunday after Epiphany - Light to the World?

Jesus had gone up the mountain and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began teaching them.  One of the things he taught them was this:  "No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on a 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."

This teaching seems pretty straight forward, doesn't it?  But on closer examination the teaching seems more complex.  What is a good work?  To be a good work must it be one that gives glory to God?  And how might we be able to discern that?

Growing up I lived "in town" rather than in the country.  Our neighbors' houses were close to ours because the lots were rather narrow across the front.  They extended far enough back to afford plenty of back yard, but what our neighbors might see or hear was of concern to my parents.  To this day I remember being told that Mrs. Kelly might hear me when I got angry and lost my temper.  The unstated implication was that my tone of voice or volume would not show that I was the sort of daughter who would make my parents proud.  I had been taught the Ten Commandments in Sunday School--"Honor your father and mother"--but I was angry, and I was not concerned about Mrs. Kelly might think.  I wasn't too concerned about God's opinion either, but I did realize my parents would probably classify expressing one's anger by raising one's voice as sinful.

There's a secular concern outside the context of sinfulness about what others think of what you say and so.  David Brooks, a New York Times columnist, wrote an opinion piece this week (Feb. 7) entitled, "Other People's Views."  In the column he considered four situations.  Given these four situations, he wrote about whether or not--and how--you should consider another person's feedback or their expected feedback before you speak or act.  His conclusion: yes, sometimes; no, sometimes.  He said, "Officially, we tell each other we don’t care. We are heirs to a 19th-century rugged individualism that says the individual should stand strong and self-reliant, not conform to the crowd. We are also heirs to a 20th-century ethic of authenticity that holds that each of us is called to be true to our sincere inner self, and that if we bend to please others we are failing in some fundamental way. . . [But] In most circumstances, therefore, we owe it to our group to usually follow the rules that help people behave considerately."  There is one situation he said in which you should not sacrifice your convictions: when "you have religious or political beliefs that make you unpopular."

When we think about the context in which Jesus is teaching his disciples, we see that he is addressing the same issue David Brooks addressed.  To follow Jesus meant believing he was the long-awaited Messiah.  In first century Palestine this was both a political and religious belief. The Romans saw someone claiming to be the Messiah as a threat to public order who deserved execution.  Many--although not all--of the religious authorities saw Jesus as inauthentic--teaching and acting in ways that did not fit with their idea of the Messiah.

So Jesus encouraged them to hold fast to their "unpopular" belief for in order that what they did or said as his disciples would give light to everyone whom they encountered.  He called what he wanted them to do or say their "good works."  He continued by telling them their "good works" must be characterized by righteousness.  Their righteousness must be so extensive that it will illuminate the nature of God's coming reign in which all of creation will be renewed and experience the justice and compassion of God's law.

That seems to be an impossibly high standard.  The prophet Isaiah addressed this sort of righteousness when he prophesied about what God saw as a proper fast: loosing the bonds of injustice, letting the oppressed go free, sharing your bread with the hungry, bringing the homeless poor into your house, clothing those who lack garments, and caring for those in your family who need you.  We may be able to comply with this prophecy some of the time in certain of these cases.  But all the time, in all instances—as I said, an impossibly high standard.  Yet that is what scripture and what Jesus has told us God's reign would be like.  For in God's reign we can become partners with God in the healing and renewing of all creation.

In Isaiah's prophecy there is also God's promise to care for us as we partner with God: " . . . your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.  The Lord will guide you continually, and satisfy your need in parched places, and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden, like a spring of water, whose waters never fail.

God's care for us, in Isaiah's words, gives us life.  We may be experiencing gloomy depression, our spiritual lives may seem like a desert, and we may feel too weak of heart to keep trying.  But despite these difficulties, God reaches out and says to us:  I want you to be part of my reign of justice and compassion.  When you follow me, God tells us through Isaiah’s prophecy, you will find that my way--although it may seem impossible much of the time--will be life giving and will make you a light to draw those around you to me.

Yes, God's grace will accomplish good works through each of us who open our hearts to God's leading.  Our good works, through God's blessing them, will bring God's reign one step closer.  God calls us everyday to these good works, and every day God's grace blesses our responding to this call.  In our responding, we truly become "the light of the world."