You are the light of the world and you are the light of the world and you are the light of the world and you are the light of the world. Even those sitting in the back row trying to keep their heads down, you also are the light of the world. Remember that Jesus addressed an assembly that consisted of the man who would betray him, one who would deny him, a group that would desert him, and a crowd that would shout to crucify him. When Jesus made this pronouncement he didn’t check anybody’s credentials. He didn’t ask who went to Church that week. He wasn’t curious about whether they flossed their teeth or not. “You are the light of the world.” Since people back then are pretty much like people right now, my guess is that statement produced three reactions in very quick succession. First, people thought: Are you talking to me. I’m just an ordinary schmuck. Maybe I could be the bulb in the refrigerator but the light of the world? No way. You’ve got the wrong address. The second thought: Holy mackerel, he really means it. Jesus sees more in me than I see in myself. I must have a greater potential than I imagined. I matter. Immediately after that the third thought: I’m in trouble now. If I’m the light of the world I’ve got to do something, you know, enlightening. I’ve got to let my little light shine before others. I’ve got to help overcome the darkness that threatens us.
This passage is at the very beginning of the Sermon on the Mount which is at the very beginning of the ministry of Jesus. Jesus wanted to start with the basics. At the most basic level Jesus wanted us to know who we are. He makes as a statement of fact that we who are his followers are the light of the world, we are the salt of the earth, we are a city on a hill. This is so because we are the children of God, made in God’s image and likeness, precious in God’s sight. These are the foundational facts we’ve got to understand first. Later in the Sermon on the Mount Jesus gives us some commandments, some things we have to do: love your enemy, turn the other cheek, stop judging, forgive, etc. Jesus does not present these commands, these instructions on how to act first, but only after he lets us know who we are. These reverses the ordinary way we look at the way life works. You are not an all-star until you hit .300 and swat 30 home runs. You’re not magna cum laude until you’ve aced the exam. You don’t get a Michelin star until you’ve mastered cooking a soufflé. But for Jesus we are the light of the world already. What we do, how we act, flows out of who we are.
Jesus used very specific images to help us understand who we are: “You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. You are a city on a hill.” If you think of it, none of those things exists for themselves but have a larger purpose. Salt is good only when used as a seasoning, like on those french fries which are oh so good. On the shelf salt doesn’t do much. A light with no one to see it is somewhat irrelevant. Only when it helps you find where to put your keys as you are coming to the front door does it matter. A city is not a piece of art to stand back and admire. Its significance comes in making human interaction possible. Our identity, therefore, can’t be limited to little old me. We aren’t defined by sitting alone in a room but by being in relationship. A quest for some kind of personal light, some individual security is futile. Light is meant for others. The very definition Jesus has for us depends on how we relate to others.
I was talking once with a young man who was volunteering as a teacher on an Indian reservation. When he was giving a test he noticed that the students were sharing the answers with one another. He confronted them about cheating. They were puzzled. They weren’t cheating. They had something that the tribe needed. It wasn’t their private possession but a gift given to them that was meant to be shared. The light of the world operates like that. A flower does its thing when it blooms into a thing a beauty. A piano does its thing when the maestro produces a song that takes us somewhere over the rainbow. A jalapeno does its thing when it burns the inside of your mouth. And a light of the world, (that’s you and me, mind you) does its thing by making this world a little brighter, as God intends. When we hear things like in the first reading from the prophet Isaiah – share your bread with the hungry, shelter the homeless, clothe the naked – we aren’t being given chores to do but rather a clue to some ways to express who we are.
The bottom line: when Jesus named us a the light of the world he tells us that the faith that we have is not our private possession to keep locked in a hermetically sealed mayonnaise jar to be pulled out as needed. Having Jesus in our life is not for us alone. The gifts God has bestowed upon us should make us shine. You see, Church, God so loved us that he sent us Jesus to enlighten our way. And since there are so many people that we know and love who seem to be stumbling around in the dark we must shine like the Bethlehem star for those who are searching. Having Jesus in our lives fills us with joy in blessings received, consoles us when confronted with loss and grief, sustains us when we’re on the rough side of the mountain. We must let our light shine so that people who look at us will say, “I’ll have what they’re having.”
