This Little Light

“This Little Light”

Robert Berra

St. Matthew's Episcopal Church, Chandler

2/2/2014

Feast of the Presentation in the Temple /  Candlemas

Malachi 3:1-4
Hebrews 2:14-18
Luke 2:22-40
Psalm 84 or
Psalm 24:7-10

Sermons are never the act of a lone preacher.  Or even just the preacher and God.  Sermons are an act of the entire community.  So, I’d like to ask your help with something.  I’ve never done something like this in a sermon before, and I’ll need your help to make the sermon work.  Will you go out on a ledge with me?

In our planning for today’s service, we knew pretty early on that we would end up holding these little candles.  And a song has stayed with me since then.  Perhaps you all know it:  “This little light of mine.” 

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

Do you know it?  Good!  Now, here’s what I’d like you to do.  When I give the refrain (   ), I’d like you to join me with (I’m gonna let it shine…)  Let’s practice it once, just like I sang it before.

This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

Jesus gave me the light; I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

We read in the Gospel today Simeon’s prayer of thanksgiving for living to see the coming of the Messiah:

my eyes have seen your salvation,

which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,

a light for revelation to the Gentiles

and for glory to your people Israel."

Later in the Gospels, we hear from Jesus that

¹⁴ “You (Y’all) are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. ¹⁵ Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. ¹⁶ Let your (y’all’s) light so shine before men, that they may see your (y’all’s) good works and glorify your (y’all’s) Father in heaven.

We understand that, just as Jesus was known by Simeon to be the light of the world, we who are grafted into Christ’s mystical body by Baptism also begin to bear this light in the world.  That is why we give a candle to the newly baptized at this parish, even though the Prayer Book does not call for it.  We make big promises as Christians: promises to continually turn away from the spiritual forces which corrupt us, to continue in the life of the larger community, to proclaim by word and example the good news of God in Christ, to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to strive for justice and peace, and to respect the dignity of every human being.

Hide it under a bushel? Oh no! I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, all the time, let it shine. Oh yeah!

Bearing this light into the world goes by a sometimes scary word:  Evangelism.  This word may not necessarily be scary to this congregation, but I know I’ve had a checkered and flinching past with the concept of evangelism, and I know I’m not alone.  I’ll share with you why.

I’ve mentioned before that I’ve spent some time outside of organized Christianity.  What I haven’t mentioned is how being outside of the organized faith was a great gift; the perspective I gained has been vital in informing my practice as a Christian now.  In the Christian world I left, evangelism was taken to mean that one goes out to tell people about Jesus.  It was from that time outside the faith that I observed that what passes for “Good News” is actually not good news; it’s often manipulation of people’s fears.  Watching evangelism felt like watching someone trying to make a transaction—a profession of faith gets you into Heaven!  And who wouldn’t want to go to Heaven!  Eventually, if it was a hard sell, the threat of Hell would make an appearance.  At that point, the Christian traded the loving God for the wrathful God, and traded Good News for ultimatums and coercion.  Implicitly, it shows that the particular Christian is more certain about God’s wrath than God’s love.

What was worse, and I still see this often, is seeing something that is supposed to be evangelism, but it is actually fulfilling a some sort of inner need for Christians.  One night in Chandler a few years ago, Laura and I passed by a youth group yelling and holding signs reading “You are all going to Hell!” on a street corner.  This is called evangelism by the people who are yelling, but it is actually a way for them to confirm their own image of themselves:  a persecuted minority bravely standing against the wickedness of the world.  Taking delight in believing atheists will deserve what they get in Hell also falls in this category; the Christian whose evangelistic efforts are rebuffed wants to feel vindicated in the afterlife.  I have had Christians tell me that Hell will show the atheist who was right, and they have said so just a little bit too gleefully.  So, some Christians who publicly say they need to evangelize quickly turn around and disparage the person they seek to talk to, which shows a lack of respect for the very person—another child of God— the Christian wants to talk to. 

As I got used to seeing bad evangelism, evangelism as a concept became a problem for me.  I still hold disdain for the reliance on fear, and I watch Christians show utter disrespect for those we are supposed to love as we love God and as God loves us.  None of this is news; non-Christians have been onto this game for a long time. They experience Christian love as the most conditional of all.

Even when I re-entered the Church, I felt that I had few models of what I would consider to be healthy, natural evangelism.  What’s more, I have feared that some of the embedded theologies with which I grew up would mean that I would fall into the same bad habits as those noted above if I tried to evangelize.  I think quite a few others who are refugees from other denominations feel the same way.  Entering the Church again was sometimes like going through spiritual triage; it takes time for wounds to heal.  It was my second semester of seminary before I could bear to call myself an evangelist in a way that resonated with my soul and not just my head.

Don't let the Satan blow it out; I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, all the time, let it shine. Oh yeah!

Even as we bear the light into the world, we are still subject to darknesses that inhibit and affect our human nature.  I mentioned earlier a few examples of how evangelism goes wrong:  The presentation of the Good News of God takes on a transactional model.  Some Christians rely on fear, not love, in representing God.  Sometimes our own need for vindication or the need to be right trumps our call to love and bring healing.  Further, and to paint with a board brush, we have at least 500 years of evangelization efforts that melded Western values and “civilization”, both the good and the toxic, into the Gospel as though they were one and the same.  Christian attempts to spread the light became preparing the road for the genocide of many first nation peoples.  Evangelism, in this case; was not simply the presentation of the Gospel.  It was coercive assimilation.  

This history, as well as current Christian behavior, is on display for the whole world to see.  This history chastens my own efforts and makes me think about my motives.  For the will-to-power over others and our own sense of pride may be at work even as we try to do the good God has given us to do.  To be called to evangelize yet see the pain it leaves on others is difficult. 

And yet, we are still called to bear this light of God into this world, as mixed as it is in the stuff of human life.  Our call flows right into the work a life of faith leads us to follow.  We seek God’s will and to live it out.  We seek the healing we need to turn our timid and halting voices into enthusiastic songs of joy about God’s work in our lives.  We seek the understanding we need to discern the Good News in this time and place.  We seek God’s way viewing the world and our neighbors, so we may better understand God’s love.  To seek these ways of being, we need to push away pride— we need to push away the need to be right—and  we need to relinquish our desire to always be in control, as though God can no longer surprise us through the life of someone else. 

Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine

The checkered past of Christian history and the current reputation Christians now hold make our responsibilities harder.  In my role as a campus chaplain, I have gained much more experience actively being ignored as people walk past.  But I can tell you that when the conversations come, they are amazing.  If the conversation gets to five minutes, it is quite pleasant. If the conversation goes to fifteen minutes, I get an opportunity to learn about the deeper joys and fears of others.  Sometimes I get to name the holy in their lives.  Occasionally they name the holy in my life.  I recently had a conversation with a student.  In the course of the conversation, the student went from experiencing discomfort and fear about what I would say and how I would react to his story, to the student experiencing the hope that community could bring.  This movement from fear to hope is a fairly common reaction that evangelists see, but we have much to do. 

Many have experienced church as shackles instead of freedom.  Others hear these stories and hold onto them, even if they have no personal experience of Christianity.

What I suggest we need in order to bear the light into the world are Christians willing to tell the stories about where God has been in their life. I do not say this simply to suggest that positive stories need to drown out the negative stories.  The negative stories alert us to a self-critique that is essential in the examined life.  I do not say this to suggest that the story of another who experienced pain at a Christian’s hands can be overridden by our positivity.  For us to treat someone’s life in that way is not to invite healing, but to continue to allow the other’s wounds to fester in silence.

No, telling our stories cannot only be a tactic for reclaiming better public relations.  Our stories instead testify to the good, inspire joy, name our own brokenness, open our own wounds, and do so to allow someone to see another experience of God.  And most importantly, they open opportunities for others to explore their own lives.  Sharing our stories humanizes all of us if we are willing to step into the space of listening and speaking deeply from our core.  I have a hunch that if we would begin practicing this type of evangelism, we begin to see God more readily in the other person.

May I suggest that, for the next two weeks, you add into your own prayer life a request that God alert you to when you might share something from your own life, and when you might need to be curious about someone else’s life.  You might find that light recognizes light.  You might find that the light illuminates a darkness that you are called to heal. You might be surprised how brightly your own light starts to burn.  If that happens, I hope you’ll share your story with me!

Won’t nobody blow it out; I'm gonna let it shine

Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine