You are the light of the world
like a city on a hilltop that cannot be hidden.
A call to Israel to realise that chosen-ness was not just a blessing but a calling. That God wanted to show himself to everyone. Jesus' spoken picture, calls the listening crowd to fulfill their heritage. I read the words, and am swept in, too. I am the light of the world. Not just me, but all those countless ones who have seen and then been the light. I sputter, a poorly connected neon-tube.
Each December, the light comes again. A reminder of how to sputter less and reflect more. A reminder of the grace given. And I can be part of it, with the light born of mercy burning in my belly - to give me courage and understanding.
Thanks be to the God of glory, the Father of the heavenly lights. He could just command and show. Instead he brings us into his glow - makes us the illumination of his grace. Gives weak glow-worms a part to play in a fire-works spectacular. Forms a shining city out of you and me.
Because of God’s tender mercy,
the morning light from heaven is about to break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
and to guide us to the path of peace.
giving thanks with Ann, at Holy Experience.