Let my light shine
Robert Fulghum once asked a Greek philosopher named Dr. Papaderos, “What is the meaning of life?” as they concluded a class taught by the professor.
Papaderos could see that Fulghum was serious. He took a small mirror out of his wallet, and told this story. “During WWII, I was a child in a poor remote village. One day, on the road, I found several broken pieces of a mirror from a wrecked German motorcycle. And by scratching it on a stone, I made it round. 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 not shine—in deep holes and crevices and dark closets. It became a game for me to get light into the most inaccessible places I could find. I kept the little mirror, and as I went about my growing up, I would take it out in idle moments and continue the challenge of the game. As I became a man, I grew to understand that this was not just a child’s game 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 the light. But light—truth, understanding, knowledge—is there, and it will only shine in many dark places if I reflect it. This is what I am about. This is the meaning of my life.”
Fulghum continues: “And then he took his small mirror and, holding it carefully, caught the bright rays of daylight streaming through the window and reflected them onto my face and onto my hands folded on the desk.”
And this quote from Haruki Murakami comes to mind. “I had a choice: I could either let the darkness of the world swallow me, or I could do what I could to help make the world a little bit brighter.”
And a part of me says, “Really? But right now, that darkness in our world is really, really good at swallowing. How do I avoid it?”
We begin here: “You are the light of the world,” Jesus reminded us. “A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bushel. Instead, they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.”
Yesterday, I joined the rally here with people in the Port Ludlow area. It was a wonderful reminder about collective efforts allowing us to embrace the gifts of hope, and diversity, and empathy, and compassion, in order to say no to cruelty and hatred.
This I’ve always known: Words do matter. Rhetoric does matter. And a cruel worldview diminishes us. It diminishes me. And yes, it covers the light, and all that spills from that light. And I will tell you that I don’t want to lose the joy, passion, resilience, faith, compassion, kindness, courage or generosity.
My confession is that there has always been a part of me—which I sadly often used in my role as clergy—which was to “say nothing, and hope or pray for the best.” I cannot do that anymore. I’m so grateful to embrace any invitation to step up, and play my part in any movement for healing, and steadfastness, and reconciliation, and transformation.
And yesterday, for me, gratefully, the tears fell. Good ones. They were cleansing and life-giving.
I am so grateful to be in a place in my life, where I welcome my tender heart. And want to remove the bushel, and let my light shine.
There were so many stories. I loved this one from Kelly, “At a No Kings today, a little 80-plus-year-old came to stand near me at the curb. She was walking with a cane and holding a little sign, maybe 10 x 12, with a kitchen spatula taped to the back as her handle. She just stood there quietly waving her sign. When I spoke to her, she said. ‘I just needed to do something, but I don’t drive so when I heard this rally would be just a few blocks from my home, I thought I can walk that far.’ So, this sweet lady walked ‘a few’ blocks with a cane, by herself, in 32 degrees and stood there for two hours just waving her sign quietly. Yes, I’m crying.”
The light is alive and well, for every single one of use. No exclusions. Yes, including the poor, the powerless, the desperate, the outsiders, the forsaken, and the forgotten.
And here’s the good news; every single one of us have been endowed and equipped, because every single one of us has been given the name, “peacemaker”.
Too good to be true? I can relate.
So, I settle for less. Because, “That can’t be me,” I tell myself. I confess that I don’t always see the light in myself.
Which begs the question; in our churning and uncertain world, from where do we draw our identity, and our character?
This is from Paul’s Letter to the Colossians, “So; chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength and discipline. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.”
I like the paradigm shift. We are not mandated to design, or create, or assemble, the wardrobe.
Only the invitation that we inhabit the wardrobe we’ve been given.
To reflect and spill light (yes, even from the broken pieces), wherever, and whenever we can.
Let us take heart in Robert Alden’s affirmation, “There is not enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of even one small candle.”
So. Sign me up. This little light of mine.
And late yesterday afternoon, my son Zach and I visited the Quad on the campus of the University of Washington, where we took immense delight in the blossoming signature Yoshino cherry trees. The trees are about 90 years old, and were originally set in a grove at the Washington Park Arboretum. In 1962, the University transplanted the trees to their current spot, bringing thousands of visitors to campus each spring to witness their rosy bloom.
If I were writing a poem about the trees, I would use words like dazzling. Delicate blooms. And fairy-tale charm.
And after the bloom, when the petals fall (in two weeks’ time), the quad will look covered with pink snow. My Oh My.
A blessed Palm Sunday to all, and to moments of reflection and healing as we move through Holy Week.
Quote for our week…
“Peace requires the simple but powerful recognition that what we have in common as human beings is more important and crucial than what divides us.” Sarget Shriver
BULLETIN BOARD
Today’s Photo Credit: “Hello Terry, I have always wanted to go to Washington D.C. to see the Cherry Trees. I had an aha moment… God placed them right here in my hometown on the water’s edge. Plus there is not a crowd of people! Plus I didn’t have to fly across the United States! For Heaven’s sake I finally opened my eyes to God’s gift. Sometimes we complicate our lives and miss the gifts right in front of us… at least I’m guilty of that! Thank you for your consistent ministry to us,” Marguerite Gerontis… Thank you Marguerite… And thank you to all, I love your photos… please, keep sending them… send to tdh@terryhershey.com
Yes, your gift makes a difference… Donation = Love…
Help make Sabbath Moment possible. I write SM because I want to live with a soft heart; to create a place for sanctuary, empathy, inclusion, compassion and kindness… a space where we are refueled to make a difference. SM remains free.
(Address by check: PO Box 65336, Port Ludlow, WA 98365)
POEMS AND PRAYERS
In order to be truthful.
We must do more than speak the truth.
We must also hear truth.
We must also receive truth.
We must also act upon truth.
We must also search for truth.
The difficult truth.
Within us and around us.
We must devote ourselves to truth.
Otherwise we are dishonest
And our lives are mistaken.
God grant us the strength and the courage
To be truthful.
Amen
Michael Leunig
As the light of dawn awakens earth’s creatures
and stirs into song the birds of the morning
so may I be brought to life this day.
Rising to see the light
to hear the wind
to smell the fragrance of what grows from the ground
to taste its fruit
and touch its textures
so may my inner senses be awakened to you
so may my senses be awakened to you, O God.
Celtic Benediction
Music for the Soul…
New–
The Healing Day — Bill Fay
