Transfiguration Sunday - March 6, 2011

Jesus Stays When the Glory Fades
Matthew 17:1-9
Transfiguration Sunday – March 6, 2011

Did you know there's an awards “season”? I'm kind of amused by that, that there's a whole season dedicated to the giving of film awards. But there is – and last Sunday night was the pinnacle of the award season – the Oscars. Now I have to admit that since I don't get to the movies much, I'm not much of one for watching any of the awards shows, but even I know that the Academy Awards are hyped as much for what happens on the red carpet as for who will end up with Oscars in their hands come the end of the night. We love to see the stars come out, all glamorous – dressed to the nines in famous designer wear, hair perfectly done, borrowed jewelry all sparkling. The morning after the show, the talk on TV and the radio is all about who wore what, who was the most beautiful, who was the most outrageous. We like to see celebrities on this biggest of nights, shining in all their glory.

And it seems to me that Transfiguration Sunday is kind of like Jesus' red carpet moment. There's no paparazzi with flashbulbs flashing, no crowds to ooh & aah over him. Just Peter and James and John – they have the super VIP passes that get them backstage with Jesus, high up on the mountain by themselves. But once they've reached the summit, all of a sudden, Jesus is transfigured. His face shines like the sun; his clothes become dazzling white. Jesus suddenly looks like the most glamorous of celebrities on awards night. “Who are you wearing, Jesus?” Well, this is God's design, God-glamor all the way, sparkling and glowing for all he's worth.

And Peter, James, and John – well, they seem to be a little star-struck, don't they? They see Jesus in all of his heavenly, godly glory, the glory he chose to leave behind when he came to earth, talking with two other rock-stars of the Jewish faith, Moses & Elijah, and they're overcome. They don't know what to do, what to think, what to say. They are amazed and filled with awe, wanting to remain there, to capture this moment – until they hear God's voice speaking from a bright cloud: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.” This knocks them to the ground in fear, but it only enhances Jesus' celebrity status. He is the king of the night – no star can take higher honors than Jesus at this award show.

But as is often the case where celebrities are involved, there's a disconnect for many of us. This whole transfiguration thing just seems to make Jesus seem far away and high above us mere mortals. Most of us have not had this type of experience of Jesus very often – of seeing him in his glory, face shining, clothes dazzling. Mountaintop experiences like this one – where we know we have been in the very presence of God are rare. And try as we might, they're not something we can manufacture. We can't make them happen. In fact, our experiences of Jesus showing up in any way, glorious or not, may seem limited to us, especially when we expect to see him like this, the way that Peter, James, & John got to. When we think that our experiences of Jesus are supposed to be the powerful, knock-you-to-the-ground-with-awe kind, when we go looking for transcendent moments where we encounter Jesus with his halo glowing full-steam, we may wonder if we have ever really experienced him in our lives at all.

So what do we do with that, when we go looking for Jesus and maybe feel like we haven't found him, or wish that he'd show up in some flashier, undeniable ways?

Well, I was thinking about that, and this metaphor of Jesus being a celebrity. And I remembered that our culture's fascination with celebrities doesn't stop at the red carpet. We're not just interested in them when they're all dolled up and looking like superstars. I found that out this past year as I waited in the doctor's office thumbing through magazines. I couldn't tell you what it was, but there was some magazine that always had a section of famous people out and about in their “real” lives. The section was called something like, “Celebrities are just like us, “ and they'd have pictures, of actresses mostly, dressed in sweatpants and sunglasses, going out for coffee, carting their kids around, picking up the dry-cleaning. You probably wouldn't even recognize them or pick them out of the crowd if the magazine wasn't there to point them out to you. When they're not all dressed up, they look just like the rest of us regular folk, doing regular things that everyone has to do.

Peter, James, and John learn that about Jesus too. This moment on this mountain is not the pinnacle for Jesus or for his disciples. It's not the most important part of the story. When the bright cloud of God's presence disappears and the glow of Jesus' glory fades, Peter, James, and John look up – and there they see nothing but Jesus himself alone. Just regular old Jesus – Jesus in sweatpants and sunglasses. The same Jesus who called them from their work as fishermen, the one who taught them & the crowd some deep truths of life in God's kingdom in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus who is undeniably different from the rest of us, yet gave up that glory to walk with them in the everyday ordinariness of their lives. Because even when the glory fades, Jesus stays. And when the road ahead gets rough, which Jesus has just told them it will (that's what was going on 6 days before this scene – Jesus has let them know that he'll undergo great suffering and die) – when his glory is hidden by dust and dirt and pain and suffering, Jesus, this everyday Jesus, will stand by them, reaching out to the hurt and the hopeless, the last and the lost, and teaching them to do the same.

That's the thing about Jesus. When he's not shining in all of his glory, we wouldn't necessarily recognize him. We might not pick him out of a crowd if we aren't looking for him. But that doesn't mean he isn't there! Jesus is far from ordinary, but he blends right in with all the rest of us ordinary people. The witness of this gospel is that even when his glory fades, Jesus stays. He's with us not just in those transcendent, “aha!” moments when his presence is undeniable, amazing, and clear. Jesus is with us even in our “oh no!” moments & in all of our in-between moments – the ordinary, boring stuff that makes up so much of our lives. He's with us as we brush our teeth and take out the trash, on the daily commute and when we're helping the kids with their homework, doing the dishes, vacuuming the living room. In all of those moments, Jesus, God's only son, the Beloved – he's there to be found, just as much as up on the mountaintop. You may not see him shining like the sun – but look around you. You never know where you'll see him next.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

February 27, 2011 - Epiphany + 8

God Provides What We Need
Matthew 6:24-34
Epiphany + 8 – February 27, 2011

One of my favorite stories when I was a kid was the book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. I know, the title doesn't sound like it's much to love, huh? But I loved it then, and I still love it now, because it tells it like it is. Poor Alexander has one heck of a day – a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. It starts off bad, when he wakes up to discover that the gum that was in his mouth when he went to bed is now in his hair – and his day just goes downhill from there. He can't do anything right for his teacher, his best friend informs him that Alexander is now only his 3rd best friend, he has to go to the dentist after school – and guess who is the only one of the 3 boys in his family who has a cavity? He gets into a fight with his brothers – and he's the only one who gets in trouble. He messes up his dad's office when they go to pick him up from work. There are lima beans for dinner & kissing on TV, his bath was too hot, he got soap in his eyes, the cat wants to sleep with his brother. And all through the story, Alexander says, “I am having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day; I'm moving to Australia,” as if Australia is a magical land where nothing bad ever happens – and all the while, he feels like no one is listening. Poor Alexander. And I always took comfort at the end of the book, when his mother says to him, “Some days are like that. Even in Australia.”

So perhaps it won't surprise you to find out that this passage from the gospel is one of my favorites, that this last verse has always brought me comfort. “So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today.” Today's trouble is enough for today.

On the surface, these aren't terribly comforting words. But I appreciate that Jesus, like Alexander's mother, tells it like it is. There is trouble today, and that trouble is big enough to occupy you for now. Don't borrow trouble from tomorrow.

But even if there's some comfort in knowing that Jesus acknowledges that we face trouble, it's a hard passage to hear (have you been noticing that lots of the Sermon on the Mount is hard to hear, and even harder to live by?). Hard to hear, because over and over in this part of the gospel, despite knowing that there's trouble, Jesus says, “Do not worry.”

There it is in verse 25: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear.”

And again in verse 31: “Therefore do not worry, saying 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will we wear?'”

And finally one more time in verse 34: “So do not worry about tomorrow...”

Do not worry. Do not worry. Do not worry. That's what Jesus says, and yet we do. We worry a lot. Perhaps not so much where our next meal will come from or when we'll get our next drink of water or how we'll find clothes to wear, at least not most of us, most of the time, but we find plenty of other things to worry about: our kids, our parents, our spouses; our jobs, our homes, our health; our credit cards, our bank accounts, our retirement fund. With all the uncertainty in the world, we think, “How can we not worry?”

Or maybe you run into the question that I run up against in this passage. I never once have had to worry about food or drink or clothing or any of the essentials of life. I have always known plenty; even when I have worried that I won't have what I need, I have always had more than enough. Always. But there are people around the world for whom that is not true, people in this country who are hungry or homeless, people around the globe who don't know where their next meal is coming from, who don't have access to clean water, who are lucky to own one decent set of clothes, let alone a change of clothing. So when I read this passage, I think, “Okay Jesus, it's one thing for you to tell me not to worry. That's hard enough for me, but what about the people whose whole life is a struggle, whose best days are worse that Alexander's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? How can you say, 'Don't worry' to them?”

I'll get back to that in a minute, because God has something to say about that, but first let's look again at what Jesus says after he tells his listeners not to worry. “Look at the birds of the air,” Jesus say – they don't plant or harvest or gather food to store up for later, but God feeds them. “Consider the lilies of the field.” They don't toil or spin, but God dresses them more exquisitely than the finest human clothes. If God takes care of birds and flowers, Jesus asks, won't God take care of you? You worry about all of these things – and God knows that you need them, and God will provide what you need. We can trust the God who gives so abundantly to the birds and the flowers to supply us with what we need. This is the same God who spoke order of the chaos before creation, when earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep (Gen. 1), the God who said “Let there be light,” and there was light. This is the God who comforted the people of Israel when they were exiles living in a foreign land and felt that the Lord had forgotten and forsaken them, reminding them that God could no more forget them than a mother could forget her nursing child, that they are inscribed on the very palm of God's hand (Isaiah 49). This is the God who was with Jesus on his most terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, as Jesus hung on a cross for the sake of the world, the God who on the third day turned that most terrible of days into a cause for great joy as God raised Jesus from the grave to resurrection life. This God, the one who brings peace into chaos, light into darkness, life out of death, this is the God Jesus calls us to trust. This is the God Jesus invites us to put our faith in, so that we won't have to worry, because this God loves us and cares for us, and knows what we need.

This is the God we serve - an infinite God filled with infinite love for all of creation. This God invites us to rely on God's ability and desire to provide all that we need – so that we can stop being “so preoccupied with getting, so we can respond to God's giving” (The Message, Mt. 6:31). When we start to see how much God has already given, how much God daily provides for us, when we trust that God will continue to meet our needs, that's when we are able to turn our attention from worry & instead join God's work in the world, striving for the kingdom of God here and now – the kingdom Jesus brought near, the kingdom that is now, but not yet.

And that's how we get back to the people whose whole lives are filled with terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days. Some days are like that, but that doesn't mean that's what God wants. God's kingdom, remember, is the place where God's will is done, where the hungry are fed, and the thirsty are given something to drink, where the naked are clothed, and the stranger is welcomed, and the sick and imprisoned are visited. When we stop worrying so much about ourselves, that's God setting us free to be partners in bringing the kingdom here on earth as it is in heaven. That's God setting us free to be the answer to others' questions about “what shall we eat or drink or wear” - because we are there as the hands and feet of Jesus to provide for their needs, sharing out of God's abundance. When we strive for God's kingdom and God's righteousness, we become God's answer to someone else's prayer, because we stop worrying and start working for justice and equity; we start living mercy and compassion.

That is what God longs for. That's God's will for our world. May we be filled with this deep trust so that we can do what Jesus says: stop worrying and start working for God's kingdom.

Amen.

February 20, 2011 - Epiphany + 7

Jesus Practices What He Preaches
Matthew 5:38-48
Epiphany + 7 – February 20, 2011

Another reading from Matthew, from The Message.

"Here's another old saying that deserves a second look: 'Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.' Is that going to get us anywhere? Here's what I propose: 'Don't hit back at all.' If someone strikes you, stand there and take it. If someone drags you into court and sues for the shirt off your back, giftwrap your best coat and make a present of it. And if someone takes unfair advantage of you, use the occasion to practice the servant life. No more tit-for-tat stuff. Live generously.
"You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.
"In a word, what I'm saying is, Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you."

Andy & I have recently become fans of a TV show that's been on for a few years now – gotta love that Netflix streaming option. It's Friday Night Lights – which is about a high school football team in Dillon, Texas. Never a show I thought I'd want to watch, but it has great characters, complex plots; it's filled with real tragedy & triumph, struggle and celebration.

Anyway, one episode we watched recently had yet another big game coming up (one thing I know from Andy's time on internship in Houston is that high school football is no joke in Texas – people take it very seriously! - so every game is a big game...). And Coach Taylor & his staff know going into the game that the other team, the Bisons, are gonna try and use every tactic to their advantage, including playing kinda dirty – late hits and pass interference and facemasks and holding and all that. That's the Panthers' history with this other team. And they also know that the Bisons will have the home team advantage. The Panthers were going to their turf – and the refs that would be officiating were notorious for favoring the Bison team, turning a blind eye to all of their tricks.

“They're gonna play dirty, and the refs aren't gonna call them on it,” Coach Taylor says that week during practice. “But we're not gonna play the game that way. We're gonna play the game our way. When they do these things, I want you to keep your head in the game. Don't sink to their level. Dillon Panthers don't play that way.”

That's what I hear Jesus saying to us in the gospel this morning. As we continue listening in on the Sermon on the Mount, we get the rest of the “You have heard that it was said... but I say to you...” statements that finish of this section. The Message puts it this way: “'Eye for eye, tooth for tooth.' Is that going to get us anywhere? Here's what I propose: 'Don't hit back at all.' If someone strikes you, stand there and take it.... You're familiar with the old written law, 'Love your friend,' and its unwritten companion, 'Hate your enemy.' I'm challenging that. I'm telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst.” In other words, Jesus says, “We know the other team's gonna play dirty. And we know that the refs are gonna let 'em get away with it. But our team doesn't play that way. We don't retaliate by hitting back. When this happens, keep your head in the game & keep it clean.”

Actually, Jesus goes further than that, doesn't he? He doesn't just say keep it clean. He doesn't just say don't sink to their level. He tells his followers – then and now – to take it a step further, to give ourselves away, to turn the other cheek, to go the second mile, to love not just our friends but our enemies.

Hard stuff to hear. Hard stuff to live. And back in that episode of Friday Night Lights, the players out on the field have a hard time in the middle of everything remembering what their coach said. As the game progressed, the Bisons were just flagrantly flouting the rules of the game. The Panthers were taking a physical beating – and the refs just let it happen. They pretended not to see all of the violations going on & just let the game go on as normal. And the players were getting ticked. They were getting heated. Frustrated, mad! They wanted to hit back. They wanted to get some revenge. Somewhere in the middle of the game, they come into the huddle, and one kid says, “Are we just gonna let them do this to us? Are we just gonna take this? What are we gonna do?”

And we all know that feeling. Know what it is to feel beat up and taken advantage of and pushed to the limit; know what it is to want to hit back, to hurt that person the way they hurt us. Besides that, everybody knows that if you ever want a bully to leave you alone, you sooner or later have to stand up to them, give them a taste of their own medicine – and even if you don't win, at least they'll respect you. They'll know you're not gonna take it lying down. Jesus is talking crazy talk here when he says not to retaliate, when he says to love our enemies and pray for them. It goes against common sense. It goes against rational logic. It goes against all human emotion. He can't actually mean for us to live this way! No one can!

Except that Jesus does. Jesus did. He doesn't just tell us to live this way – he practiced what he preached. Matthew says, “This is what God does. He gives his best – the sun to warm and the rain to nourish – to everyone, regardless: the good and the bad, the nice and nasty” (5:45). And that may not seem too hard – weather patterns are kind of generic and not something you have to deal with face to face. It's impersonal. But Jesus went way beyond sending rain or sunshine from a distance. Jesus lived out what he's talking about here day by day, up close and personal, and when his life was on the line and push came to shove, Jesus didn't shove back. That's not to say that Jesus was a pushover – I think we'd all agree that he was anything but a door mat – but when it came to repaying with violence with violence or hating his enemy, Jesus just didn't do it. We see that most clearly in those pivotal 3 days of his life. Judas betrays Jesus, but Jesus doesn't seek revenge. When they come for him in the garden of Gethsemane and his disciples pulled out their swords to protect him, to fight for him, one of them, John's gospel tells us it's Peter, even cuts off the ear of the slave of the high priest, what does Jesus do? He knows he could call down countless angels from heaven, but instead, Jesus tells them to put away their weapons. Jesus heals the ear of that slave. Peter denies Jesus, but when Jesus rises again, he doesn't reject Peter, he calls him to feed his sheep. And if ever there was a time when it would make sense to fight for yourself, to curse your enemies in anger and pain, it's on the cross – but as Jesus hangs there, he does exactly what he tells us to do – he prays for his enemies: “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Lk. 23:34).

Now, we're not Jesus, and not many of us need to be reminded of that. We know that this is a tall order, that we'll never be able to practice what Jesus preaches that he does. But the invitation is to keep practicing. At that pivotal moment in the football game, when the team was at its limit and that one player spoke for the group: “Are we just gonna take this? What are we gonna do?” Tim, the team captain, who's not known for his high moral behavior or pacifist lifestyle by the way (he's a drinker and a brawler off the field, actually), Tim says, “We're gonna suck it up.” We're gonna do what the coach told us to do. We're gonna play the game our way.
The Message puts it this way. “Grow up. You're kingdom subjects. Now like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”

Live out your God-created identity. Extend the grace and mercy that God has given you to others. Practice may not make us perfect, but we can walk with and learn from the One who is. Thanks be to God.

Amen.

February 13, 2011 - Epiphany + 6

Jesus Cares More About Relationships than Rules
Matthew 5:21-37

Epiphany + 6, February 13, 2011

There's a movie Andy & I like to quote to each other from time to time, because it portrays so well the way people in relationships so often communicate with each other. It's from the movie The Break-Up with Jennifer Aniston & Vince Vaughn, about a couple whose relationship has hit the breaking point. It all boils over one night after a dinner party when Jennifer Aniston's character, Brooke, asks Vince Vaughn's character, Gary, for help cleaning up the kitchen. He has no interest in hopping up off the couch – he's caught up in his video game – and so a fight breaks out. Gary, trying to avoid the conflict says, “What, do you want me to do the dishes?” And Brooke's response is classic: “I want you to want to do the dishes!” “Why would I want to do the dishes?” Gary says. “Oh honey, that's just never gonna happen...” We laugh, but as Homer Simpson says, it's funny cuz it's true. It's not always enough to do something for someone – sometimes it's the inner motivation, the reason why, that really counts.

That's part of what's going on in the gospel lesson we just heard. Here Jesus is reminding his audience of disciples that it's not enough to just do what seems right on the outside – because what's on the inside matters too. See, Jesus has just finished saying this: “...unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Mt. 5:20). And at first glance, what he says next seems like it's his instructions on how to do this, a description of what it looks like for someone's righteousness to exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees.

“You have heard it said,... But I say...” Over and over again, Jesus lays out the situations. He talks about what the religious law and commandments say – Don't murder, don't commit adultery, don't abandon your spouse (that's what divorce amounted to back then), don't swear falsely. These are what the rules are, Jesus says. Everybody knows them, and nobody knows them better than the scribes and Pharisees. But Jesus says, “Don't be too sure of yourself.” Don't strain your arm patting yourself on the back because you haven't murdered anyone or because you've been physically faithful to your spouse and have followed through on whatever it is you “swore to God” you'd do. The scribes and the Pharisees – and lots of other people for that matter – manage to follow the letter of the law.

But then Jesus pulls an Emeril on his listeners & kicks it up a notch. “You have heard it said... But I say to you...” Never murdered someone? Okay, but I bet you've been angry with them. Never cheated on your spouse, but you've looked at someone with lust, haven't you or given that time & energy that should go to your spouse to something else – your work, your hobbies, TV, the Internet? Carried out the vows you made to the Lord, but why is it that your word alone isn't good enough for people to believe you'll do what you say you'll do?

I imagine that these words from Jesus struck fear into the hearts of many listening to him that day. Probably strikes some fear into some of our hearts too. Because if following the letter of the law isn't enough, if what we think and feel in our hearts and minds counts too, if our inner motivation makes a difference, then what hope do we have? Because the examples Jesus gives reveal to us in no uncertain terms that none of us is off the hook. If the scribes and Pharisees weren't righteous enough to enter the kingdom of heaven, then how can we ever hope to be?

That's because we think that what Jesus says here is all about fulfilling the law. We think that Jesus is mainly concerned with us learning to follow the rules perfectly, inside and out, just for the sake of following the rules. Our main motivation for following the rules is so we can avoid punishment – the judgment or the council or the hell of fire that Jesus talks about – or because we think we can somehow live up to the rules and so earn our place in God's good graces, so we can deserve to enter the kingdom of heaven someday.

But we've got it all wrong. Because even though our main concern may be following the rules so that we can avoid judgment or earn rewards, what Jesus really cares about is our relationships. The rules aren't there simply to give us a moral checklist to follow. They're there to help us to learn how to live with God and with each other. When Jesus is asked elsewhere in Matthew about what commandment in the law is the greatest or most important (Mt. 22:36), this is what Jesus says, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets” (Mt. 22:37-40). (That's in chapter 22, in case you want to look at it later.)

Love God. Love your neighbor as yourself. That's what all the commandments, all the laws boil down to. They're there to show us what it would mean if we really did love God and our neighbor.

But it isn't enough simply to follow the letter of the law. It's not enough to do the dishes... Jesus wants us to want to do the dishes. Because we can obey the law on the surface, while the whole time we are wishing harm on others. We may never have killed someone, but many of us can point to times when we've thrown someone under the bus or stabbed them in the back. We can stay physically faithful to our spouses, yet let our minds and our hearts wander. It's easy enough most of the time to keep the commandments, until we realize that God's law goes much deeper than our outward acts and down into our hearts too. God's will for us extends into the core of who we are. And it's not about the rules so much as it is about the relationships. Underneath these laws Jesus talks about there is a deep concern for community, for how people live with and treat one another.

And so Jesus lays out a vision here, one that reveals something about what it looks like when God's will reigns in our lives, when God's followers live out that prayer for God's will to be done on earth as it is in heaven... Because when God's love rules in our lives, we stop worrying so much about obeying the law to keep God happy or avoid making God mad. We start to see ourselves as the beloved, cherished children of God that we are. We start behaving as the salt and light Jesus tells us we are – and we look beyond wooden obedience and slavish rule following to see what God's heart desires for us: a community of people where everyone matters, where we learn to let go of anger and make the first move toward reconciliation, where we stop objectifying others and see them as human beings, where a person's word is good enough and there's no need to swear to God to convince anyone that you can be trusted. It's a community where we seek after health and wholeness and after those things that give life to each other. This is the kingdom Jesus initiates. It's the kingdom he lives out. It's the kingdom he invites us to enter and live in even now. It's not about rules. It's about relationships. It's not about the law. It's about love – God's love for each of us, the love that then spills over from us to each other. Let's let that love rule.

Amen.

February 6, 2011 - Epiphany + 5

Let Your Light Shine.
Matthew 5:13-20
Epiphany + 5 – February 6, 2011

Wipers on? Lights on.

You've all probably seen that sign as you drive along the highway, here in New York and in other states. It's a not-so-subtle reminder about the law – if your wipers are on, your headlights should be too. Because when you're driving through bad weather – rain or snow or sleet or freezing rain or any combination thereof, like we've been through this past week, – you need your lights on to see. But it's not only you who needs you to have your headlights on; other drivers need your lights on too so they can see you. When we find ourselves in a storm, that's when we need light to go by.

Today's gospel story finds Jesus reminding his disciples about just that, that need for light to go by when we're in a storm. This story is part of our continuing journey through the Sermon on the Mount, which we started last week, and will keep hearing parts of until the end of February. In it, we hear Jesus tell his disciples, “You are the light of the world. A city 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...” (Mt. 5:13-16).

“Let your light shine,” Jesus says, and he says this because the world was a dark and stormy place. Wipers on? Lights on. Just as today, people wrestled with darkness in its many forms – whether it was the political oppression and injustice they faced under Roman rule, or the hunger and poverty that faced an ancient world peasant class. There were struggles against storms of disease and violence, of ignorance and intolerance. People could live their whole lives in the shadows of fear and death, looking anxiously for some source of light. And so, Jesus says, “Let your light shine, “ not just for yourself, but for others, because other people need your light to go by. Let your light shine, and it will give light to the whole house.

To us too, Jesus says, “Let your light shine.” Our world is just as dark and stormy as 1st century Palestine was. We face literal storms, sure – blizzards and flooding, earthquakes and hurricanes – the kind that disrupt and destroy countless lives. The developing world faces the darkness of poverty and diseases in ways that we find hard to imagine – famine & starvation, people dying of things like cholera and malaria because they lack access to clean water and basic preventative and medical care that would stop the problem before it starts. And we have seen recently how injustice and oppression can lead to uprisings and revolutions as people seek to find a different source of light in the darkness of their existence.

But of course the world's storms aren't all external. Many of us are challenged by interior storms – anxiety, depression, addictions; anger, bitterness, regret, all of these things we carry around, that cloud us.

And so when we hear these words from Jesus to let our light shine, we wonder if we have what it takes. We've got our wipers going at full speed, and still we're lucky if we can see a few feet ahead of us, let alone help someone else see the way! Besides, in the face of such darkness all around us, what good can our little lights possibly do?

And yet, Jesus says to his followers, then and now, “You are the light of the world.” Not “You will be.” Not, “You should be.” No, Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.” Even when you're not sure how or why this could be so, Jesus tells us that we are the light of the world. And the Isaiah passage gives us some ideas of what that looks like. It says when you loose the bonds of injustice & undo the thongs of the yoke, when you let the oppressed go free, light breaks through. When you share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your home, light breaks through. When you dress the naked and take care of your family, light breaks through. When you do these things, Isaiah says, “Then your light shall break forth like the dawn... then your light shall rise in the darkness.”

Because you see, there is something we can do to be a light in the darkness of our world. Especially when we combine our lights and shine them together. One candle in the darkness doesn't seem like much, it only lights up a little piece around itself, but when you join it with 10 or 100 or 1000 more, that light becomes a brilliant glow to hold back the darkness, to point out the way. And it's not because it's our light. We are light for the world only so far as we are connected to Jesus, who himself is the Light of the world, the light that brings life to all people, the Light who shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it. It's only through the light of Christ shining in our lives that we can bring light to the dark places of the world. His light fills us up and spills out through us to shine through the storms of life.

When Christians are connected to the light, we cannot help but reflect that light to others. This week I saw it in the picture that was making the rounds of the Internet, of Christians in Egypt who held hands and encircled a group of Muslims at prayer, providing them a place of peace and protection in the midst of upheaval and unrest, even though they practice a different religion. I saw how this light spreads when I read again of the work of Lutheran World Relief in Haiti. We've all heard the reports about how the money isn't getting to the people, but despite the challenges they face, Lutheran World Relief has distributed over 25,500 quilts to people forced to sleep outdoors; over 77,500 health kits to help maintain basic hygiene; 17,500 tarps to provide temporary shelter; 35,700 school kits to help children learn; 1,500 layettes to help new parents care for their babies, and $1.1 million to local partners to provide food, water, sanitation services and shelter. They are working to provide water filters to combat cholera, and providing medical supplies to help health facilities as they respond to this epidemic. Light spread through the youth of the ELCA as they gathered in New Orleans in 2009 for the National Youth Gathering and spread out throughout the city as volunteers to help rebuild and repair areas ravaged by the hurricane – and that light will continue to spread when they return to New Orleans for the next annual gathering in 2012. The light of Christ is reflected through the work of our national church, the ELCA, as it seeks to combat malaria in Africa. And yes, Jesus' light shines through all of you here too, through the ways that you serve and give – both here in the church – with donations of food and clothing and money to Lutheran Social Services' New LIFE Center in Uniondale and the many organizations who receive some of the proceeds of the Harvest Festival each year, and in the wider world, as you work and serve and volunteer on your own, and through the money that you give here that leaves our congregation and goes to the synod and the national church. In these and so many ways, you are being the light that Jesus says we are – whether you know it or not. But the world is still a dark and stormy place. There's more work to be done. Wipers on, people? Let's get our lights on too!

Amen.