****** This little light of mine…
I learned that song in Sunday School and at church camp, and always thought of it as a children’s song, so it’s not one I sing much anymore… but the other day I heard a version of it that was recorded by Sam Cook and thought, “It’s more than just a children’s song…”
And it is so appropriate for today, Star Sunday, the Sunday closest to Epiphany, which commemorates the arrival of the magi, who followed a brightly shining star to Bethlehem, where they presented their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the baby Jesus.
John’s gospel does not talk about the magi. Only Matthew’s gospel talks about the magi.
But John’s gospel does talk about the light: the light that shines in the darkness, the light to which John the baptist testified. It is the true light of God, which enlightens everyone. It is the light of hope, peace, joy and love. It is the light of truth. It is the light of Christ.
That light shines in each of us. As followers of Jesus, we—like John—are called to testify to that light.
Do you remember Robert Fulghum? The guy who wrote the essay, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten?”
In another one of his essays, he described attending a lecture, and at the end of the lecture, the speaker asked if there were any questions.
After a moment’s pause, Fulghum raised his hand, stood up, and asked a question that he said he often asks when anyone invites people to ask questions.
The question he asked was: “What is the meaning of life?”
Fulghum wrote that most people don’t take him seriously when he asks that question. Usually, people chuckle, and they start putting on their coats and getting ready to leave.
But he said he would ask that question, because—who knows?—maybe someday, someone would have an answer.
And one day, someone did.
The speaker was Alexander Papaderos, a priest who grew up on the island of Crete, a place that was invaded by the Nazis, but which resisted their takeover.
After looking at Fulghum for a moment to see if he was sincere, Papaderos held up his hand and said: “I will answer your question.”
And then Papaderos told this story:
***** When I was a small child, during the war, we were very poor and we lived in a remote mountain village.
One day, on the road, I found the broken pieces of a mirror. A German motorcycle had been wrecked in that place.
I tried to find all the pieces of the mirror and put them together, but it was not possible, so I kept only the largest piece. . . .
I began to play with it as a toy and became fascinated by the fact that I could reflect light into dark places where the sun would never shine—in deep holes and crevices and dark closets and behind walls. It became a game for me to get light into the most inaccessible places I could find.
. . . As I became a man, I grew to understand that this was not just child’s play but a metaphor for what I might do with my life. I came to understand that I am not the light or the source of light. But light—the light of truth, understanding, and knowledge—is there, and that light will only shine in many dark places if I reflect it.
I am a fragment of a mirror whose whole design and shape I do not know. Nevertheless, with what I have I can reflect light into the dark places of this world—into the dreary places in the hearts of men—and change some things in some people. Perhaps others may see and do likewise. This is what I am about.
This is the meaning of my life.
[Robert Fulghum, It Was on Fire when I Lay Down on It, Random House, 1999]
I often think about this story.
When I read in scripture about the light that has come into the world, I think about this story.
When I read that the darkness has not and will not overcome that light, I think about this story.
When I read that Jesus, the light of the world, said to his followers, “YOU are the light of the world,” I think about this story.
And I reflect on how well I am doing when it comes to letting the light of Christ shine through me, and how well I am doing at being a piece of a mirror that reflects that light so that it reaches the darkest places, and I wonder if I could be doing more, or if I am too often hiding that light under a bushel basket.
***** Light has almost always been a part of worship. In Exodus, scripture talks about an eternal flame in the place of worship that is a sign of God’s presence, a flame that was fueled by oil. In Leviticus, that sacred fire is also mentioned, except there, it is fueled by wood. I guess it doesn’t matter what the fuel is; yet no matter what type of fuel is used, there is an important thing to note, and that is that someone must tend the flame. Someone must keep it going.
And this is so important that both Exodus and Leviticus give instructions on how to keep the flame lit and burning.
Centuries later, the apostle Paul wrote in the 2nd letter to Timothy that Timothy should “rekindle the gift of God that is within” him.
Did Paul think that the light of God in Timothy had gone out, or was in danger of going out? I don’t know that it was quite that bad; but Paul was trying to encourage Timothy to let the light within him shine. “God did not give us a spirit of cowardice,” Paul wrote, “but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.”
Perhaps it is cowardice that makes us lower the flame, or keep it hidden under a bushel basket. How can we let our light shine brightly, letting the power and love of Christ be seen in us and through us?
***** Every year, on the Sunday closest to Epiphany, we give out stars with words on them. And today, we have a star for each of you.
These stars are meant to guide us, just as the star guided the magi to Jesus.
These stars are meant to encourage us, just as Paul encouraged Timothy when he told him to rekindle the flame within you.
These stars are meant to inspire us, to reflect Christ’s light of hope, peace, joy and love into the world.
The stars are in a basket, and you can take one when you come up for communion. Or, if it’s easier, you can come up and grab one after worship.
If you are worshiping with us online, you can wait until the next time you are here in person to get your star… or, we have set up an alternative way for you to get a star-word, which you can find on our Facebook page…
Each star has a different word. The hope is that the word on your star will, in some way, help guide you on your faith journey in the coming year.
Since many of you already have a star from last year or the year before, I invite you to ponder whether there is a connection between the different words on your stars. All things exist in balance. For example, if last year your star had the word “gentle” on it, and this year your star has the word “strength,” you might ponder how you can balance gentleness and strength in your life.
Or maybe last year’s word was “rest,” and this year’s word is “work.”
And if someone close to you—perhaps someone who is a part of your household—gets a word, you may want to share your words with each other. You don’t have to, but you may want to… and you can ask: do our words complement each other? Or are they opposites and we somehow need to figure out how to balance?
Your star word may be a challenge for you. Or, it may be an affirmation. Or, it may be a comfort, or encouragement. That’s for you to figure out.
Take your star home with you, and when you pray, listen to what God might be telling you that relates to your star word.
This isn’t magic. It’s just wood and ink from a sharpie pen. But perhaps the Spirit can work something good in you as you meditate on your word and listen for what God is trying to say to you.
And hopefully, it’ll all help you let the light that is in you shine just a little brighter.
I should point out, it isn’t always easy to keep the flame lit and the light shining. There are too many trying to put out your light.
The light that shines in you represents everything good about you! It illuminates the YOU God created YOU to be!
But some will say that you are too religious. Or too loud. Or too quiet. Or too gay. Or too masculine. Or too feminine. Or too skinny. Or too fat. Or too old. Or too young. Or too Mexican, or Indian, or German, or whatever your ancestry is…
And you might be tempted to turn down the flame a little, to dim your light, to hide who you are, to conceal the person God created you to be.
But this world NEEDS you to be the person God created you to be. This world needs your unique gifts and talents. The world needs you to let your light shine.