Light of the World?

              “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden;  nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house.  Your light must shine before people in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.  (Matthew 5:14-16)

 

                I must smile. We’ve been considering fear for the past several days, and today’s passage-of-the-day included these verses. At the moment, I can’t think of much that is more frightening than what is said above. Granted, the passage isn’t written specifically to any one person, but to every one person, but the issue doesn’t change. I? I am the light of the world? Someone is going to see things by the light that I provide? It’s not all on me, but, it’s all on me? The pronoun in the last several questions could easily be changed to you, he, she, we, or them.

                It’s at this point that the people represented by all of those pronouns are likely to start backing away and making excuses. Some may smile and congratulate God on having finally noticed, but most of us will whine that our light is too dim, too weak, too unsteady. The moment we are proclaimed to be light, we see ourselves as darkness. “I’m not good enough” may not come from our mouths, but it screams from every neuron.

                Recently, I seem to be noting how “everyone else” is doing so much better than I am. My light is pathetic. Other people build lives. Other people have careers, relationships, money, power. Other people’s books sell. Other people are loved or admired and when they speak, people listen. Other people this…other people that…whine.

                Psychology and modernism tell us that we are wrong, that we must battle against the lie that we are not good enough. It’s part of our spiritual warfare. They’re right and wrong. It’s the same issue as with fear. The truth is, we are not good enough. But the issue is whether our lack turns us toward God, or away from Him. As I think about it, I would far rather be “not good enough” and have God work through me without my notice than to hold my head high as “the light of the world” and be useless to Him.