On becoming a star--It's in your job description--Just ask John the Baptist

 

Advent 2023

 

“A man named John was sent from God.
He came for testimony, to testify to the light,
so that all might believe through him. 
He was not the light, but came to testify to the light.”
–John 1: 6-8

 

 

Sitting on my front porch, reading the Gospel of John, I was struck by this familiar verse. I heard something new this morning hat I had not heard before: a job description!  This is John the Baptist’s job description.  His job was to testify to the light.  To tell the world what he knew to be true, so that all might believe. Very simple, very straightforward; no complex language about quotas or expectations, no official title, no qualifications, no list of duties—and no terms of severance.  Just the simple and straightforward, open-ended call to testify to the light, with the goal that “all” might believe.

 

Basically John’s job was to be a Burma-Shave sign (a Buc-ees sign for you youngsters out there). He was called to be a road sign pointing the way to The Light. That’s it.  And it occurred to me that his job description doesn’t just apply to John the Baptist.  Doesn’t it actually apply to all of us? Isn’t that the job description of every Christian? We are all called to be a testimony to the Light—to the love of God, to the saving grace of Christ. How we do it isn’t described, isn’t spelled out. Some people may do it through words, others through fasting and prayers, and still others through lives of sacrifice and service.  But the plain truth is we are all called to testify to the light—to live as a sign for others, that they might believe.

 

For most of us, our testimony may go unseen by the vast majority of the world around us.  Our testimony is one of patience and kindness to a stranger: standing in line at the pharmacy, we smile and speak a gentle word to the young mother struggling with her fussing child, or we speak a word of encouragement and cheer to the UPS delivery guy putting packages at our door. Maybe your testimony is to get up at 3 in the morning and walk with a crying baby so that your spouse can sleep. Maybe your testimony is not just to give a $20 bill to the homeless person asking for money, but to also ask his or her name, and to give them your name. Maybe even shake hands and let them know that you will pray for them.  Let them know they are seen, they matter.  

 

For so many of us, our testimony will never make it into a book or even be remembered much beyond the moment, but it will be a testimony, and it will plant a seed, and it may be that when we are all gathered together into that Light, into the Kingdom we call Heaven—you will be greeted by someone you don’t remember, but they will remember you, and that one little act of kindness that lit a spark in their soul... that testimony of love.

 

There is one more thing this little passage reminds me of, especially at Christmas time. And that is a certain star. We see it on so many Christmas cards, but do we ever ponder what it means? It is shining there, above a stable, above a manger, showing us the way.  For the wise-men, that star was a kind of testimony, a road sign, guiding them on their journey.  But even with all its splendor and glory, it wasn’t the actual goal, it was just a sign—a flashing neon testimony to something far greater: a homeless, cold, and exhausted child sleeping in a manger. As we unwrap presents and prepare our holiday tables, let us remember that; the true gift of Christmas is God come to us in the form of a helpless child. Remembering that, pondering it, living it... it will give your life a radiance that will shine for others. It may not get you mentioned at the next Academy Awards or Music Awards, but it can definitely make you a star.  Just ask John the Baptist.

Rise up in Splendor O Jerusalem -some thoughts on the Epiphany

“Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem! Your light has come,

the glory of the Lord shines upon you. See, darkness

covers the earth, and thick clouds cover the peoples; but

upon you the Lord shines… Nations shall walk by your

light… raise your eyes and look about; they all gather

and come to you…”   Isaiah 60:1-6

Rise up in splendor, O Jerusalem!  Darkness covers the earth, thick clouds blind the people. They need a great light.  Rise up in splendor, Jerusalem.  Be that light.  Become that light. Raise your eyes and look about… the world walks in darkness.  The world hungers for light.

Rise up in splendor, O Jerusalem.  The world walks in darkness and you are being called; become the light.
 How often does God put us in a dark place and ask us to be His light? My guess is it happens every day. My guess is it happens several times every day. My guess is –it never stops. But how often do we let ourselves shine?  For many of us, perhaps every single person who has ever lived, all we ever really dream of is a chance to shine; a chance to light the earth; for the people around us to see that indeed we do shine.

As a child I longed to be famous, to be glorious, to be recognized, to be chased by hundreds of beautiful girls down a London street –like the Beatles in Hard Day’s Night. That was my vision of success, of becoming a star! Of truly shining bright.  Who could question that the Beatles were stars?  But the tennis racket I strummed never got properly tuned, and luckily the broomstick I sang into never amplified my wandering vocals, and I never became a singing star (despite what I told my 4^th grade teacher). And because I never got famous, I suspected I was –instead—a failure. It was, for me, a dichotomy I couldn’t escape. I was either John Lennon, David Bowie, or Bobby Sherman, or I was a failure. (In college the dream became more literary; then it became: I was either Faulkner, Joyce and Williams or I was a failure.) But there was no middle ground. And thinking that I had tried, only made my failure worse –because then the failure seemed more real. I tried. I tried to shine, and no one noticed. No girls chased me to the train station. No Nobel committee member called me to congratulate me on my prize. Therefore, I was a failure. My light (if I even had one) was so dim, so dull no one noticed.

But is that true? And even if it were, does that matter?  God calls each one of us to Rise up in splendor. He calls us to rise up in splendor each day.  He calls us to rise up in splendor each moment of each day.  Because the world is in darkness. There is a thick cloud that covers the people.  And they need a light, even a small one.

What if you knew the light you were called to shine today was only going to be seen by one person? And they would see it, but not be sure exactly what they had seen, only that it was a light and for a moment it gave them hope, it gave them consolation, and it gave them a glimpse of something –a sign that someone else was out there. They weren’t alone.  And what if that was it?  You were going to shine a light and maybe one person would see it, and no one else would notice? You would never be the “star” you dreamed of being, but you could give one person hope; would you count that a success? And what if that one person --because of your light-- began to shine a little more, and she lit the way for 2 or 3 others –no big crowds, no Madison Square Garden, no red carpets or Transco Tower search beacons, just a small group of people who each begin to rise up and shine a little more because they saw something –a light in the darkness—that gave them hope.  Would that be enough? Would you still think yourself a failure? What if you stopped tuning that tennis racket and instead took a match to it? And then raised it high!

Rise up O Jerusalem; rise up in splendor. Rise and shine.