I like to walk at night around our neighborhood. Last summer, I looked up at the stars and witnessed a strange sight. It was like a lighted caterpillar moving across the sky.
As I watched, it suddenly went dark and disappeared. I have never before, nor since, seen anything like this. My only guess at the time was that it was lighted drones flying high overhead in very tight formation, following each other like a train, and in unison turning off their lights.
I frankly could not imagine someone flying drones in tight formation over Coldspring. Drones make noise and I heard nothing. I reasoned that maybe I could not hear them over the sounds of the woods around me. Sometime later, I mentioned this experience to my brother. He told me that it must have been a Starlink communication satellite, one of those launched by Elon Musk. I think he was right.
When I first saw it, it must have been brilliantly reflecting the sunlight of the evening sky, then it must have passed into the shadow of the earth, making it disappear from my view.
Jesus said to His followers, “You are the light of the world. A city on top of a hill can’t be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a basket. Instead, they put it on top of a lampstand, and it shines on all who are in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before people, so they can see the good things you do and praise your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16, CEB).
The light that we are to have within us is the light of Jesus Christ. The light that Jesus brought to the world was the love of God. When people saw the good things that He did, they knew that God loved them, and they came to faith in the One who created them and loves them. They responded to this love and became the followers of Jesus. They repented of their sins and chose to live in the ways of God.
Similarly, the light of Christ in us is the good works that Jesus calls us to do. When we care about people and minister to their needs, we reflect the bright sunshine of Jesus’ love and that is eye-catching. For most of us, however, there are times when our lights blink out. We become self-absorbed, fearful, or otherwise distracted. We don’t reflect the light of Christ, and we fail in our Christ-given mission. We must choose to stay in the sunlight and do the work of Christ in the world.
Why should we do the work of Christ? Is it because we want people to see us and give us praise? No, not at all. It is because we are a people called to the mission of doing the work of Christ. When we do His work, people give glory to Jesus, the source of our light. We are but servants of the Master, and it is to Him that we point as the Glorious One.
It is Jesus, after all, who has transformed our lives, saved us from sin and destruction, and filled our hearts with love. He has given us a life that is enlightened, full, and rich.
We have the light of Christ in us when our attitudes are different from those living in the darkness. We are filled with hope, optimism, and kindness. In faith, we refuse to be ensnared by despair, gloom, and hatred. We have the light of Christ when our actions and behavior are different from the standards of this corrupt world.
We give generously of our resources to make a difference in the lives of others. We work for justice, striving to end oppression. Toward those who are oppressed, we practice mercy as we endeavor to bring hope and deliverance. We visit those who are sick or incarcerated. We weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice. We feed the hungry and encourage the downhearted. We reflect the light of Christ in our words of blessing.
Instead of speaking curses toward our enemies, we speak words of forgiveness and reconciliation. We choose to tell the truth instead of practicing falsehood. We are civil in our comments toward others. Through our attitudes, actions, and words, many may be brought to the city of light where our Savior rules and extends His mercy even to the most undeserving.
We are the light of Christ.
Dr. Dan Darby is a retired United Methodist pastor.
