Christopher Thomas
Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A – 2/9/2020
Isaiah 58:1-9a
Psalm 112:1-9
1 Corinthians 2:1-12
Matthew 5:13-20
I found myself wondering, this week, as I wandered, through the Gospel, God’s great good news, which is my great honor and privilege to do, week in, and week out on your behalf. I found myself curious, as I so often do, about this notion of light. Now, I know, theologically speaking, because that’s what we clergy types do, right, we think and speak theologically, conversating with and about God, that God IS the source of light and life. It all comes from God; it all belongs to God, and it all goes back to God. I think we can agree that light, and everything that it illuminates, is God’s, not ours. We’re just small parts of the bigger picture.
Now, that being said, my curious little mind always wants to dig a little deeper. So, how does light get created? How does it do its thing? I like all the theological talk, but I want something to hold on to, because I’m human, and that’s what we do.
And I remember my first sort of witness to the creation, the spark of light, literally into life. It was my first “season” to sing in the Cathedral Choir at Christ Church in Houston, and my first to participate in an Easter Vigil service. Now, Christ Church Cathedral is a very old, very historic, and very wooden structure that sits near the very founding spot, the beginnings of the City of Houston. And I remember, in my naïve 20-something brain, being fascinated at watching the elders of the church bring into the nave what was lovingly referred to as the “Holy Hibachi” along with some implements that were going to be the sparks of new light and life.
The church was dark, and these elders huddled over this fire pit in a mysterious, Harry Potter way, and struck flint on flint, in the hopes that a spark would spring forth new light. I remember thinking to myself, “Good luck with this one. We may be here all night!”
You know what? It worked! The people showed up, and were faithful, and God showed up, and was faithful, and the sticks and twigs in that pit crackled into this fire of new life. New life that delicately and gingerly spread, candle by candle, throughout the darkened Cathedral that night, in a mysterious and magical way, illuminating the way for that night and for many many Easter Vigils that followed. I remember that it seemed absolutely miraculous to me, that you could rub two rocks together, and there was the light of God, again!
What was equally fascinating to me was that we didn’t burn that old wooden building down! The light accomplished exactly what it was supposed to accomplish, thanks to this beautiful co-creative act, this covenantal event that occurred between God and God’s people, that night so long ago at Christ Church Cathedral.
Now, here’s a little insight about Father Christopher. When I discover something that is new and exciting, I want everyone to see it, to know about it, as though I have just discovered a new continent, or something. “Wow, everyone! Have you seen what’s going on down at the so-and-so? I don’t want you to miss it! You are going to want a part of this!”
However, it became abundantly clear to me that what I witnessed that night, my first Easter Vigil, the creation of new light and life, was really nothing new at all. No, I was merging into something that had been going on long before I showed up and I sensed would be going on long after I departed.
“You ARE the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the 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 (not to you), but to your God, our Creator, in heaven.”
Jesus says, “You ARE the light of the world.” Oh my gosh, he’s not identifying what the disciples already are based on their inherent potential. We know their ragtag backgrounds. He’s speaking something into existence here, as boldly and as plainly as God spoke light into existence all the way back in Genesis, Chapter 1: “Let there be light”; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good!”
Jesus isn’t asking the disciples to go be the light of the world. He’s telling them that they ARE the light of the world. He is striking two flints together, right there in the Sermon on the Mount, and creating. Creating. Light. Before their very eyes. Within their very existences. Something that is going to have momentous effect beyond themselves. And that light is going to spread, just like it did in that Cathedral, that night so long ago, the room that was dark will spring to light and life!
“You ARE the light of the world!”
St. Thomas, Church, I am not telling you anything that you do not already know. God showed up and spoke you into existence as a community 70 years ago. As a community of faith, you have lived into your calling to be the light of the world, a city built on a hill, in ways that I am only beginning to learn. I hear tell that you were the first congregation in the diocese to integrate, and that you were the first to have women in leadership roles on your Vestry, and you were the first and only congregation that would nurse, and nurture, and eventually bury hundreds of people in the midst of the terror that has been the HIV/AIDS crisis.
You put on this most amazing Sunday to welcome your new and 5th Rector in the most loving and incredible way anyone could possibly imagine. You rolled out the red carpet of hospitality in ways that I continue to hear about from around the state.
And yet, all of those things, those wonderful beautiful amazing things, those things are not the light. They are only testaments of and to the light.
“You ARE the light of the world!”
Do you have any idea what that means? I hope and pray that you let that sink deep down, into your personal psyche, and into the collective psyche of this community of faith. Because you need to know that. Folks, you need to know that you know that you know that, because of what we are going to do, as the Episcopal Church of Saint Thomas the Apostle. I promise you. You need to know that Jesus himself said that “You ARE the light of the world!”
What it means is that we can confidently, and boldly, and securely (and yes, still with fear and trembling) do the work that God has called us to do, to BE God’s light in the world. God will settle for nothing less.
Now, I have been told, over and over, time and again, “Oh, Father Christoper, we are so glad you are here. Feel free to tell us how you would like to do things. We will change.”
I was not born yesterday, folks! I have spent ALL of my 54 years in church in one form or another, and I have seen and I know enough to know that this river called St. Thomas has been flowing LONG before I showed up and will be flowing LONG after I depart in 18 years. There are NO ditches of tradition that I am interested in dying in, I promise! My light does NOT need to be extinguished that way.
You know better than I how things work here. Change simply for the sake of change is not productive.
So be the light. Illumine the path. For me, in this time, as I learn how to be a light in this place.
I promise you this.
Jesus has said, “You (We, St. Thomas) ARE the light of the world!” Don’t put that light under a bushel. Let your light shine before others so that they may see these good works and give glory to our great God in heaven.
We are going to do that. I already have my ideas about how St. Thomas is going to do that. I hope and pray you are readying yours as well!
Amen!
