Lighting Our Lamps and Letting Them Shine

I was reading an author the other day who said that one of the dangers of the world that we live in today is that we have lost some of the bigger, meta-storylines that our smaller, personal stories can fit into. By this he meant that we can easily fall into forms of despair or inflated self-importance (to name but a few possibilities) because we see our story as so unique. 

What I love about the scriptural tradition – even with all of its problematic parts – is that it provides us with old, meta-stories that often have something important to say to the historical moment we are in.

In the first reading today from Ezra 1, King Cyrus has just defeated the Babylonians – ending the 70 years of exile from Jerusalem. Cyrus wants to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem (the heart of the cultural and collective identity for Israel) and issues a decree which says, “Let everyone who has survived, in whatever place [they] may have dwelt, be assisted by the people of that place with silver, gold, goods, and cattle, together with free-will offerings for the house of God in Jerusalem.” The king is urging people to be part of a collective project for the common good – offering whatever they can to it. 

A few things to note that may be relevant for this moment.

First, all periods of exile end, and those who have been cast out return home (although this may not always be possible in the physical sense). The exile may not end when we want or under the conditions that we expect, but the possibility of a return “home” (even if only to our own internal home) always exists. The resistance and persistence of Israel in keeping itself alive and intact – even under exile – is an important storyline to hold on to. We see the same power of resistance and imagination happening during times of African enslavement in this country or in the Palestinian people in Gaza right now.

Secondly, all empires and kings fall. At one point in history, Babylon was unstoppable. And yet, at a later time, they had lost all of their power and control. This is both a promise and a cautionary tale for us in the United States empire.

Third, King Cyrus initiates a project that is intended to be for the people – not as a means to line the pockets of the king and his court. It was meant to be a form of reconstruction of what was lost through violence and coercion – honoring the spirit of the remnant who had come through such a difficult journey.

Imagine if we took this to heart in our civic and economic life these days? What if we explored ways to welcome all of those who have been “exiled” somehow – people living in poverty, low wage workers, people without proper documentation, people who have faced discrimination and oppression, etc. What if the structures we built and the collective projects we engaged were designed with them in mind? What would this period of reconstruction look like?

We have some insight into this as a country during the middle of the 19th century as we entered our own Reconstruction.

While there was a lot that it did not do, this period in United States history witnessed an effort to try to address the harms of slavery in this country by attending to human rights, changing economic systems and strengthening institutions and laws so that they would incorporate and prioritize the needs and desires of African-Americans living in this country.

And it was violently opposed by white people. And we are witnessing the continued vestiges of that opposition today. 

Which is why our gospel for the day takes on such importance.

In Luke 8, Jesus tells his followers that, “No one who lights a lamp conceals it with a vessel or sets it under a bed; rather, it is placed on a lampstand so that those who enter may see the light. For there is nothing hidden that will not become visible, and nothing secret that will not be known and come to light.” He goes on to say, “Take care, then, how you hear. To anyone who has, more will be given, and from the one who has not, even what [they seem] to have will be taken away.”

To me the first part seems a bit more intuitive than the second part.

We are meant to be light in these times. Because things can feel like they are unraveling all around us (because they are!), our “light” is crucial. This light might take the form of mutual aid. This light might take the form of protest and demonstration. This light might mean making time for joy and community building. This light might mean slowing down and being more purposeful in connecting with each other and the non-human world. This light might mean protecting vulnerable people with our own bodies and voices. This light might mean digging deep into our souls for hope that nourishes the collective.

Furthermore, our light is meant to reveal what is really going on – which is why truth-telling remains such an important (and disappearing) act. Part of Jesus’ mission (and that of every great social reformer) was to make the invisible or unnamed dynamics visible or named. Our light is meant to reveal what is not seen or may not be easily visible, and it’s also a call to see things “properly” (in the biblical tradition, this context is from the vantage point of the outsider, the oppressed and the forgotten). For a great example of this, check our Rev. William Barber’s reflection, “Moral Movements Expose Evil.”

So whatever form our light might take it is meant to be both a beacon for others and to reveal and name what is really happening around us.

But what about that last part about people having even what little they have to be taken away from them? At first glance, it sounds like it could be a form of capitalism, eh? A biblical mandate for the wealthy getting wealthier and the poor having what little they have taken from them.

Go back to how it starts, however. Jesus has just been talking about things being revealed and then says, “Take care, then, how you hear…” 

Jesus is not talking about things we have so much as our perspective or inner orientation – to God and one another. This is what we “have” at our disposal. And to those who are already possessing this orientation, a deeper, more substantive gift will be given that amplifies what is already there. Those without this orientation – those who refuse to accept what is being revealed by the light – will have their inner connection “taken away from them” not by God but by a process of disconnection that atrophies some of their essential spiritual muscles that keep us connected as a community. If it helps, maybe think of Jesus saying something like, “Those who follow this way of seeing and being will have it strengthened. You’ll be given more clarity and courage to live out the kin-dom in this world. Those who do not follow this way will cut themselves off from the source of life because of their hardness of heart.”

As we go through our week, may we ground ourselves in these deeper stories – reminding ourselves that whatever forms of exile we may be facing right now, they will eventually come to an end. And that in the meantime, we must shine our light so that we keep on exposing the harm and imagining a different future. Always remembering that our true strength lies in our connection to each other, our connection to our world and our connection to our God.