I’m looking for light. Searching the sky, seeking the scriptures, opening my eyes. This morning I caught some of the sunrise, with the flag at half mast. I raise the blinds, supplement with vitamin D, go for a walk.
Take advantage of every opportunity because these are evil times.
Ephesians 5:16 (CEB)
I feel the weight of the darkness, the chaos of evil. I need the shelter Kevin described in Sunday’s teaching, the world that God’s love builds (I recommend contemplating the paintings in the PowerPoint while you listen.) I notice shafts of light breaking through. People speak out in solidarity, sending love and support.
Light produces fruit that consists of every sort of goodness, justice, and truth.Ephesians 5:9(CEB)
At first I thought that Paul was mixing his metaphors, but of course light does produce fruit. Through plants. Eventually. And I see people around me working for justice, telling of truth, and goodness surprising us again. But sometimes these things seem so small. Tiny points of light.
I want a different kind of kingdom. Where goodness rules. With Jesus on the throne, and some deserving people seated on his right and on his left. Sometimes I am impatient and frustrated with the reality of God’s kingdom as described by Jesus in Luke 13. It is hard to see, and harder to understand.
If we were to pick a mascot for God’s kingdom, what would it be? A lion sounds good, of the tribe of Judah. Or an eagle, soaring with strength, like in the Psalms. Powerful predators.
But today I get to vote for either the mustard seed or the yeast. Take your pick. Neither lends itself to championship chants. They are small. They are hidden, out of sight in the ground or in a huge amount of flour. They will take time to grow. At first nothing appears to be happening.
I want to skip to the end, where the seed has become a tree for birds to build nests in the branches, and there is enough bread dough to bake for a crowd. But sometimes what we have in our hands is so small, seemingly lost in a hole in the ground, hidden in that much flour. So I am reminded that growth requires warmth. For seeds to germinate or yeast to work its way through the whole.
I, too, seek warmth. From sunshine, and light bulbs, and friends. Maybe that is the aspect of light that beckons us today. Radiant heat. That God’s kingdom, however small it seems, can grow among us. Meanwhile we hold on to hope, that what is hidden will eventually nurture many.
May we be light. May we be warmth. May we see God in the small things. May we participate in the kingdom that provides branches to build homes, and bread to feed the hungry.