The Pope said it best yesterday:
“The saints weren’t perfect, but they allowed God to
touch their lives.”
To put it another way: they were like candles; their
lives shone of Christ’s love.
Last evening, during our “All Saints Supper and
Celebration,” I asked each person to talk about
their first Sunday school teacher. Mine was Marylou
Crocker. To this day I consider her to be a saint—if
not because of the countless ways she faithfully
serves the church—because she most definitely
deserves that distinction for putting up with my
boyhood antics for all those years!
Marylou was the one who taught me about the light of
Christ dwelling in me.
Though I doubt she would have put it that way, I now
know the importance of the Bible song she taught us
as we sat around the little table. It is probably
one you recognize. It goes:
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.
Let it shine, Let it shine,
Let it shine.
In teaching me this timeless folk song, Marylou
instilled two truths:
1. I have a light. God breathed life into me, and I
am one created in God’s image and likeness. This
light is a gift from Christ, who—in his life, from
his death, and by his resurrection—dispelled all
darkness. The light (albeit a little, flickering
one) is a light no darkness can ever overcome.
2. I must let my light shine. By the Holy Spirit,
God has gifted me with graces to reflect God’s love
with my very life. The light shines when I love my
neighbor as I love myself. The light grows brighter
when I love my enemies, care for the downtrodden,
and break bread with the faithful. This gift of
light is to be shared, not hidden. It is by our
lights—the very lives we live—that we keep vigil in
times of great darkness.
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While I do this, maybe my light isn’t
such a little, flickering light, after all.
In Luke 11.33 Jesus says, “No one after lighting a
lamp puts it in a cellar, but on the lampstand so
that those who enter may see the light.”
Friend, let your light shine. Let your life speak of
the goodness you know to be God’s grace in your
life. Embody the light of Christ that has come to
dwell as the dawn of your hopes. Welcome the breath
of the Spirit that breathes on the embers of your
dreams, bringing to life creativity and joy!
Later on in his homily, Pope Francis said, “The
saints above all are our brothers and sisters who
have welcomed the light of God into their hearts and
have passed it on to the world, each one according
to their own tone.”
We are like stained glass and the light the shines
in us will be different. The saints have taught me
that I need not be Mother Teresa or Martin Luther
King, Jr. Instead, I need to be Adam—only
Adam—cultivating the flame God has gifted uniquely
to me. As those before us lived to let the light of
God pass through them to hold off sin and darkness,
so may it be the same for us. My light placed next
to your light, and then set next to your neighbor’s
light… well, those make for a light as bright as the
sun.
I wonder what that must look like? Who knew that to
be a saint would mean to live like light shining
through stained glass...
[Adam Quine, Pastor of
First Presbyterian Church in Lincoln] |
