Lighting the World ~ Isaiah 58:1-9 ~ Fifth Sunday after Epiphany

I had big plans for the summer between by junior and senior years of college …

My plan was to land a corporate internship which would allow me to step straight into a career after graduation—like what my peers had.

But that didn’t work out—and I was back at my part-time job at a major department store chain, which had been one place where I’d pursued an internship most intently…  My bosses knew I was disappointed, so they frequently brought me in to help them with special projects. 

One such project called for an eight-hour shift on a Saturday on the 4th of July weekend, to help get the store ready for a white-glove inspection by the company’s top executives.

I was a happy to help them tackle their to-do-list, until my boss hands me a putty knife, and asks me to scrape gum off the front sidewalks…

I get outside, and there’s more gum out there than in the Wrigley’s plant…

Now all I could think about as I knelt there on my hands and knees was how embarrassed I’d been to see my peers as they came to the store to spend their internship paychecks, while I was still stuck working part-time.  But I certainly didn’t want them to see me doing this.  What’s worse was that every other person walking in or out of the store was making snide remarks like, “who’d you tick off to get stuck with this job?” or “oops, you missed one.”  Slowly, I began to boil with anger at my bosses—and not from the heat, but from my ego, that kept telling me I deserved better.

So I get up, with the job half-done, and I tell my boss that I don’t scrape gum.  She’s clearly shocked by my words, and she argues that sometimes jobs like these have to be done to succeed in the business.  My response was, “I don’t scrape gum.”

Well, two things happened after that: my shift ended early, and I never heard another word spoken by the bosses about a promotion.  And I had no one to blame but myself.

I was so caught up in my damaged pride, and my anger about things not going my way, that I didn’t see things as they really were.  I missed a great opportunity to help the people trying to help me, doing admittedly humble work. 

When things go wrong, be they minor (like this was) or more life-altering, the negative emotions have a way of getting the best of us.  We get so caught up in fear and frustration that we lose our sense of God because we don’t see God taking the crisis away…

This is what was happening to the Jewish people, roughly 550 years before the birth of Christ …

A little history: the nation of Israel had basically fallen apart under the inept and idolatrous rule of a string of corrupt kings.  The mighty nation of Babylon swept in, sacked Jerusalem, destroyed the Temple, and took God’s people into exile.  Fifty years later, Babylon is conquered by the Persians—and the new King permits the Jews to go home and rebuild their city.  Which they do.  But it’s slow-going…  And after decades, Israel is still devastated politically, economically, and spiritually.  The temple is still in ruins; the nation is still ruled by a foreign power.  Constantly, the people pray, they fast, they wait—but nothing changes.  God does not restore his chosen people and his chosen nation to its former glory.  And the people cry, “why, God?”

“Why do we fast but you do not see?  We humble ourselves—so why don’t you notice?”

Here again, there is so much fear and frustration, that the people forget what is most fundamental to their faith: which is God’s love and faithfulness.  God knows their suffering and pain.  What’s more, God didn’t miraculously preserve them in exile, then miraculously bring them home, to let them flounder and waste away.  They still exist to be a light for the nations and a living sign of God’s love for all the world.  They are God’s people: a city on a hill; a light on a lamp-stand…

This is who they will be as they “loose the bonds of injustice;” “let the oppressed go free;” “share their bread with the hungry;” open their homes to the homeless, and give clothes to the naked…  The saving power of God will come upon them as they serve one another in love.

We too must remember, that when crisis strikes, we cannot let the negative emotions blind us to what is most fundamental to our faith: God is love.  God knows our pain.  As much as it may appear to the contrary, God is acting—just not always according to our plans or our timetables.  God is in the world; loving the world, and caring for its people—including you.

This is why we cannot live the kind Christian life that’s “just me and God.” 

When tough times come, and we’re struggling to feel God’s presence, one of the devil’s tactics will be to isolate us from God’s people.  It’s the devil who tempts us to believe, “now isn’t a good time to follow Jesus.”

But faith cannot flourish if we keep it to ourselves, like it’s our best-kept secret. 

Your faith is a light that shines with the love of Christ.  It is the Holy Spirit who gave you this light on the day of your baptism.  We cannot confine it into our own lives; nor can we confine it in our church building—lest the light be snuffed out.  Faith lives, breathes, and grows, out in the open air of God’s world.  Christ’s presence comes alive in relationships and in communities, where we pray for one another, build up each other’s faith, teach one another God’s Word, and serve one another in love. 

If you want to be connected to God, you must be connected to God’s people.  If you want to see God’s power, you must go where the action is.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: these are dark times we’re living in.  Everywhere, there’s suffering and need; and all along, the churches are emptier than ever.   But God’s call could not be more clear: we are salt and light.  We can get caught up in the fear and frustration of these days, or we can listen as God calls and sends us to be children of light.  We can do this, because it’s God’s will.  This is the key to living a life of joy.  So open up your doors and meet your God in the world God loves.  Open your hearts to the needs your neighbors.  Open yourself so that God’s grace may flow in and out of you.