Sermon Text: Matthew 5.14-16 Title: "Let It Shine"

Preached: February 7, 1999

I made a discovery, recently, about three way light bulbs. It may be no great discovery, or no discovery at all, for some of you -- Keith and Phil, Jr. certainly know this already. I made the discovery after the Pastoral Leadership Conference, [a wonderful conference hosted by the American Baptist Seminary of the West in early January], when we stayed away from home for just two nights. Somehow, either by an earthquake unfelt anywhere except our bedroom, or by our cats racing over the furniture (I'm leaning toward choosing option "B"), somehow two lamps got knocked over. One of the lamps takes a three-way bulb. After its (probably) feline rearrangement, it started doing something quite strange: it started switching on and off like a normal bulb. I have had three way bulbs work improperly before: usually though, they'll go on - on - off - off.

That's when I made my discovery. (You could say the light went off in my head.) You see, I used to think that there were three separate components in a three way bulb -- either three filaments or a regulator which determined how bright the single filament would burn. My discovery was that there are really only two filaments in a three way bulb. A filament, incidentally, is the thin piece of wire which lights up when electrical current is run across it -- it's the part of the light that lights. When the filament breaks, the bulb is called, "burned out."

My discovery is that in a three way bulb, there are only two separate filaments. One uses a low power setting, and one uses a higher power setting, and they switch on in series. First the low, then the high. When you turn the third time, they both come on, so the total power used is the sum of the two. If the first two are fifty and a hundred, say, the total is one-fifty, so that's what the package says: 50-100-150. If the first two are 15 and 135, the third setting is 150, and so forth.

Usually when a 3-way bulb burns out, it is the low watt filament that goes first. So you get that off - off - on - on effect. But when the cats moved the lights into their new, floor-level position (I think anyway), the higher watt filament got prematurely broken. So the lower one would switch on when it was supposed to be by itself and then off when the higher was SUPPOSED to be on. And then it would go on again when they were BOTH SUPPOSED to be on. So I have a fifty watt bulb at home that thinks it's a 50-200-250.

Which brings me, I hope, to the passage I read from Matthew. In the lesson, a teaching from Jesus' sermon on the mount, Jesus tells the folks gathered around him: "You are the light of the world." This morning, I want to talk about the obvious message and the not so obvious message in that little verse. (The obvious message is that each one of us can be, some how, light for the world.)

Our world, the world at the end of the twentieth century CE, especially as seen by North Americans, is a world filled with light. We have more kinds of light sources, more types of light bulbs, more availability of power than ever has existed before in the history of humanity. And yet, somehow, as our ability to produce artificial light increases, we are able to see only more clearly how much metaphysical light is lacking in the way in which humans use all God's gifts.

We see nations and people still at war. We see children pressed by economics into latter day slavery as sweatshop workers. We see massacres devised over religious differences. We see hunger ravaging vast regions because the world's resources are not shared adequately. We see our forests de-forested, our seas over-fished, our air and our watered blackened with soot. We see diseases spread throughout some nations that have been eradicated in others. And even in our own neighborhoods, we see our own children crowded into dilapidated buildings, turning dog-eared pages, with a parade of substitute teachers trying to impart some kernel of wisdom, all while the stock market is rising, rising, rising...

I have come to believe that despite our enlightened society, the world is in the middle of a metaphysical night. And as our leaders concentrate more on who is giving them the most contributions, and less on the suffering of the people, I believe the night is getting deeper. But you are the light of the world.

We have come to understand that, in our hearts, we possess a flickering fire of the holy spirit -- burning somehow in a way we don't understand, with a power we cannot control, which imparts strength and gifts to accomplish the will of God in the world. We have come to understand that God desires a mission to extend out into the world, to reach out to people, and that reaching people with the help they need is bringing metaphysical light into their world-dimmed souls. We are the filament of God's light -- God powers us each up with the power that we can handle: are you a 15, a 50, a 250? We work best when we take the power that God gives and burn with our brightest capacity. The best part is when the filament breaks, and we get burned out, God offers us the opportunity to recover and heal; God recycles light bulbs. And maybe we come back shining with a new power rating.

Each one of us has gifts to use to shine light into God's world. And in our commitment we often even know ways to share those gifts, to feed, clothe, educate, and free God's children here and across the globe. Yet, we recognize that the night of the world is very deep. The gloom is tangible. Amid such terrifying darkness, we feel as though we need a stronger light than we can provide. If I am 75 watts, or 100, or even 300, how much can I do with this little light of mine?

Here's where the less obvious message becomes important. In English, we just hear: "You are the light of the world." And we think, "Okay, I am the light of the world; hey, cool!" But in the original Greek, Jesus is saying "You {plural} are the light, Y'all are the light of the world." We're not alone in this light bulb. Jesus is talking about a more-than-one-way bulb, one with several, indeed, a lot (possibly millions) of filaments. To shine more brightly, in our murky, dim world, we don't need to somehow change our own capability to shine, we just need to get more filaments to shine beside us, with all the power that their capable of taking. We need to get them all switched on and burning together.

We are the light of the world. There are a lot of ways for us to shine, and we do several of them quite well. So here's our new additional task. We need to gather up some new filaments. There are some out there somewhere, one inside every person. And we need to accept the filaments that God sends us, whoever they may be, however they may seem. And then we may need to train those filaments, to teach them how to light up, or we may need to help them recycle their bulb a little so they can shine again, or we may need to plug them into the right kind of fixture, the right kind of mission, so that they can shine well.

And then, as we gather up God's filaments, we can all shine together, beacons on the hilltop, a light to the world. And we trust that, with God's power and wisdom, the gloom will abate and the night will disperse, and the sunrise of God's realm shall rise upon the earth.