Light of Christ

The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world (John 1:9). This key biblical text for early Friends contributed to the shape of their theology.  Their emphasis was on the power of the Light of Christ rather than on human sinfulness, although it was that power’s ability to bring change in their lives that mattered.  The Light revealed what was hidden, it convicted, and then it empowered change.

Recently I’ve become aware of some small examples in my life of what that might be like.  A friend I see only on rare occasions reminds me at those times of some words I said to her years ago in a particular context and place.  I at best vaguely remember the occasion and have no sense that my words came from any spiritual depth or wisdom. But for her, those words gave her hope when she was despairing.  She must have experienced through the words a light that allowed her to see a clearer picture of her condition, brought her worry up short, and comforted her so that she could go forward in greater peace.  A little incident, but significant enough in her life that she continues to remember it.

While in Rome for a family wedding I was asked by a friend why I did a particular behavior.  Her tone kept what she said a question and not a criticism.  And I gave her a quick and reasonable answer.  But the question stuck—a light shone on that issue.  Later I was able to reflect on the revealed behavior, see it for what it was, and choose to change, although I wondered how I would be able to.  As if the prayer of my heart were answered, I was empowered to live differently, at least for a time.  The old behavior remains in the light, and the desire of my heart to change is not forgotten.  I am more aware of what the behavior does to another.  I remain dependent on Christ to live in the new.

Queries:

When has someone’s words revealed to you what was hidden in you?

What has enabled you to change—for a short time or more permanently? And how could you or do you stay connected with that power?

Prayer:

May your light shine in my heart revealing what is hidden and needs the light of day.  Increase my consciousness of your light in my life, and the openness of my heart to be changed.

For further reflection:

“I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8: 12).

Your strength is to stand still, after ye see yourselves; whatsoever ye see yourselves addicted to, temptations, corruption, uncleanness, &c. then ye think ye shall never overcome. And earthly reason will tell you, what ye shall lose; hearken not to that, but stand still in the Light, that shows them to you, and then strength comes from the Lord, and help contrary to your expectation: then ye grow up in peace, and no trouble shall move you.  (George Fox, Epistle 10)

Sinners

I was reading Mark 2:13-17, the pre-selected passage in my morning devotional.  Jesus is walking along, sees Levi who is a tax collector for the Roman government (therefore a traitor to his people, the Jews, who are oppressed by Rome and their taxation), and invites Levi to follow him.  Levi does, and Jesus joins him for dinner, along with “many tax collectors and sinners.”  The seriously religious people of his day (they really cared about following the Torah) are very critical of his behavior.  Jesus explains that he is there for those in need and not for those who have it all together.  Suddenly I found myself glad to call myself a “sinner.”

But I don’t like the word “sin” or “sinner”!  They have often been used by people who see themselves positively while naming some other group as terrible, to be avoided and excluded.  The words make me think about being bad through and through and experiencing low self-esteem and life-denying shame—nothing to be glad about.

Yet as I listened and found myself in the Mark story, seeing myself as sinner felt strangely liberating.  I didn’t have to be better than others, to hold myself above the “fallen.”  I felt free simply to be human, to be me with the strengths and weaknesses that come with the package.  Knowing myself as sinner allows me to let go of the childhood sibling-rivalry-induced need to be at least as good as anybody else—to follow all the rules just right.  In this story of Jesus, as a sinner I know I am loved for who I am, not for what I can accomplish, how virtuous I am, or how well I can be on the “right side.”

It is okay to need a physician.  In truth, all of us do, but we don’t always know that.  I am one with all others.  Humility, compassion, care arise.  As I get older and experience diminishments, I needn’t fear.  Those losses can be opportunities for grace—provided that I know with Jesus I am a sinner, a beloved child of God.

Queries:

In what way might you need to be healed?

Who are the people you would criticize Jesus for eating with?

Prayer:

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

For further reflection:

“When we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly . . . while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (See Romans 5: 1-8).

“‘If any of you have never sinned, then go ahead and throw the first stone at her’” (See John 8: 3-11).

“Sin”–A Four-Letter Word?

“I don’t drink and I don’t chew, and I don’t go out with girls that do.” A ditty that my father repeated jokingly, it presents sin as bad things an individual does and implies there is a catalogue of such sins. Furthermore, if you do them you are bad, and if you don’t do them, you are good. Such a view quickly escalates into the assumption that certain people are bad, especially certain kinds of people. And it sets the stage for debilitating shame and guilt, or unjust self-righteousness.

The true meaning of sin is missing the mark, being turned away from God’s ways rather than cooperating with God’s order and justice—a stance of a community or corporate body as much as of an individual. To sin is not to be a bad person; to sin is not about being unlovable or unloved by God. To sin is to be out of the flow of what is life-giving. Sin is a force within us and beyond us. Turning to God in repentance and surrender saps its power.

I heard an auto mechanic talk about the expense of medical insurance for his family under the Affordable Care Act. He said he had to have the insurance because of his wife’s many health issues. In order to solve his problem, he joked, “I could divorce her.” Then he added more seriously, “but that wouldn’t be a God-thing.” I wonder if the notion of sin is more of a deterrent to hurtful choices than thinking of some behavior as simply wrong or bad.

What if we regarded sin not as a code of wrong behaviors but as those ways that create in us a lack of compassion, that let us take care of me to the neglect and harm of others; those ways that put us individually and collectively out of the Garden of Eden, that push away the kingdom of God where there is peace and wellbeing for all? Might using the word sin to name such ways make an even more powerful statement of the damage they do and encourage us to repent?

Queries:

What have you been taught about sin, and how has that been helpful or hurtful? If hurtful, is there a way that word could be reclaimed and serve a positive function?

How does sin operate to divide us and to diminish our compassion?

Prayer:

“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil.” Pray the Lord’s Prayer; perhaps you will want to put it in your own words.

For further reflection:

“I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate . . .” (See Romans 7: 14-25a).

“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)