Letting Your Light Shine Makes a Difference
Rock Spring Congregational United Church of Christ
Rev. Dr. Kathryn Nystrand Dwyer
November 16, 2014
Matthew 5:14-16
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“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. 15 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. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they
may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
Matthew 25:14-30
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“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his
property to them; 15to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each
according to his ability. Then he went away. 16The one who had received the five talents
went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. 17In the same way,
the one who had the two talents made two more talents. 18But the one who had
received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s
money. 19After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with
them. 20Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more
talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more
talents.’ ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few
things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ 22And
the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me
two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ 23 ‘Well done, good and trustworthy
slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things;
enter into the joy of your master.’ 24Then the one who had received the one talent also
came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you
did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; 25so I was afraid, and I went
and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ 26 ‘You wicked and lazy
slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not
scatter? 27Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my
return I would have received what was my own with interest. 28So take the talent from
him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. 29For to all those who have, more will be
given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what
they have will be taken away. 30As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer
darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’
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“You are the light of the world… let your light shine before others, so that they may see
your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”
This is one of the primary passages of scripture I associate with my childhood. I
remember associating this passage with the song, “This little light of mine.” And more
importantly, I remember hearing and somehow getting in many different ways that Life
with a big L—and all of the specific and unique parts of my own life—were gifts from
God that are meant to be shared.
While I don’t think I could have articulated this theologically when I was young, I know
now that this orientation to God and to Life was central to my theology. When I was
young, understanding that every human being had their own unique light helped me not
only risk trying something new or working to develop interests – like speech, drama, or
writing – it also provided some comfort when it took me a longer amount of time to
study and read and master a concept for school. As I now have come to say, I could see
that something like languages was not in my “gift mix,” and did not beat myself up for it.
Over the years, I have also come to realize how many people did not have a Sunday
School teacher or a parent or a significant person in their life who told them they were
the light of the world. So many—too many—have had to spend a lifetime overcoming
messages that not only did not fan the flame of their internal light, but effectively tried
to put a big bushel over it to suffocate any spark that was left.
You are the light of the world! You are loved. You have worth. You are valuable and
have something important to offer. I believe that sharing that message and helping
people of all ages hear it deep in their bones may be the single most important role of
the Church. Because when you and I get that, it doesn’t just make us feel good, it makes
all of the difference in the world. When we see everything that we have been given as a
gift from God that was meant to be shared, it makes all of the difference in the world.
We, collectively, have been given all we need to solve the problems of the world.
I specifically chose this “light shine” passage to accompany the lectionary text of the
parable of the talents. The tension they create with one another is important. These
two passages provide two strikingly different and contradictory views of God.
The God in the Parable of the Talents is not an image of a loving, life-giving, merciful
God, it is an image of a judging God who either approves or punishes every movement
we make. The master in this parable calls the third servant who buried his gift, “wicked
and lazy.” I don’t think the servant was wicked and lazy so much as he was afraid. He
was fearful of being judged. Fearful of getting it wrong, or not being good enough.
When the only messages you have received are “if you don’t get this right, you will be
punished; if you don’t get this right, there is just further proof that you are not able,”
who wouldn’t cower with fear?
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Tom Long suggests that the worldview of the servants produces exactly the results we
would expect. He writes this,
If one trusts the goodness of God, one can boldly venture out with eyes wide
open to the grace in life and can discover the joy of God’s providence everywhere.
But to be a child of the generous, gracious, and life-giving God and, nonetheless,
to insist upon viewing God as oppressive, cruel, and fear-provoking is to live a life
that is tragically impoverished. Indeed, there is a kind of theological economy at
work. For those who live in the confidence that God is trustworthy and generous,
they find more and more of that generosity; but for those who run and hide
under the bed from a bad, mean, and scolding God, they condemn themselves to
a life spent under the bed alone, quivering in needless fear. To all those who
have, more will be given… but from those who have nothing, even what they
have will be taken away.1
The third servant gets the master that his tiny and warped vision can see.
Perhaps the single most important role for the church today is to help people grasp the
vision of a generous, loving, forgiving, merciful God. Only then, only when we have this
vision of God, can we have the courage to live generously. Only then can we stop
comparing ourselves to others and live fully. Perceiving our life, our circumstances, this
moment in time as a gift rather than a punishment or entitlement makes all of the
difference in the world.
I know of no one who lives by faith more than fear than my friend and mentor, Ralph
Quellhorst. I first came to know Ralph from a distance. He was the Ohio Conference
minister at the time who came to speak to my polity class at seminary and who presided
over the Conference’s Annual Gatherings. Soon he became one of my greatest
encouragers, and he preached a challenging and inspiring sermon at the installation of
the church I served in Columbus. He was one of those people who could readily see
God’s light in others and he drew it out of me encouraging me to respond to a
challenging call. Over time I realized that I wasn’t any more or less special or unique
than dozens of others who he has encouraged in ministry; one of his real gifts is being
able to draw forth the gifts of others.
Some of you may remember that Ralph spoke at my Installation service here at Rock
Spring. By the time I had come to Rock Spring, Ralph had developed Parkinsons, and I
remember thinking about how I could best involve Ralph in the service. Instead of
worrying about it, I just asked him. He immediately responded that he had much he
wanted to say and would be honored to provide the “charge” to the congregation.
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Thomas G. Long, Matthew: Westminster Bible Companion, Louisville, Westminster John Knox Press,
1997, 283
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When he arrived, though, he was aware that while he could still speak, his voice was
weak. He didn’t trust it at that time of day, but that didn’t hamper him. He had a plan.
“I will write everything I want to say and can we have Deb speak the words for me? I
will stand beside her.” And so that is what happened. Ralph and Deb stood before all of
us, and Deb’s voice shared Ralph’s words. It was a powerful moment.
Last year Ralph’s wife Sue died, and a couple of weeks later I flew to visit Ralph on my
day off. I arrived at 11:30 a.m. He is no longer driving, so he asked a friend to drive him
to the airport so that he could meet me. We spent the afternoon together, and I flew
back at 5:30 p.m. that evening.
Six hours is a long time to be in conversation with someone who has difficulty with his
speech, but we talked together for quite awhile. At some point, it was clear Ralph was
getting tired and his speech was more strained. I couldn’t understand his words, but
that didn’t stop him. He picked up a pen and wrote. And then after awhile, he
mustered the strength to say this: “God is not done with me yet. I am not sure what
God wants from me next, but I think I hear God saying that I should speak less and listen
more. You speak, and I will listen.”
Ralph’s God—our God—is gracious, loving, generous. It is the God who gives us
everything we have, who puts a spark of light in each of us and waits to see how it will
catch flame.
As Marianne Williamson writes, “As we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give
other people permission to do the same.”
I love how George Bernard Shaw speaks of the splendid torch:
This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a
mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of
ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to
making you happy.
I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community, and as long as I
live it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can.
I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work the more I live. I
rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no "brief candle" for me. It is a sort of
splendid torch which I have got hold of for the moment, and I want to make it
burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations.
May this be a place where the light of God’s of abundance, grace, and love is so bright it
catches on fire. Amen.
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