Matthew 5:13-20
“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its
taste,
how can its saltiness be restored?
It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and
trampled under foot.
“You are the light of the world.
A city built on a hill cannot be hid.
No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel
basket, but on the lampstand,
and it gives light to all in the house.
In the same way, let your light shine before others,
so that they may see your good works and give glory to your
Father in heaven.
***
If you look at my call log from Thursday
it reads in twenty minute increments of doctor’s
offices, health insurance, prescription health insurance, nurses, labs and
scheduling, except for one point around 2:00p.m., when,
still with a handful of places to contact, I remembered the other thing I
needed to do. Pray and I thought of my friend Sheri, she lives much more in the
prayer world than the doctor’s appointment world. Her name alone serves as a
reminder to me, to practice being close to God, and so, I texted her and asked
her to pray for healing for me and that I would explain in a bit. I put on my
gloves and snow-boots and some music on my earphones, and headed out to shovel
and take time with God. (I pray best when moving, that Be Still and Know that I
am God, verse was not written for me). Someone watching might have noticed that
I didn't shovel quite straight in normal lines but scraped from here to there
as erratic as my thoughts. But they were calm, and I processed a lot with the
weight of the snow, and when I was done shoveling, I was done praying. After a
few to-do phone calls I called Sheri and explained and she and I talked, not
about radiology or different procedures but where God was and where I was with
God, and she gave me some advice. And she was a light, shining before me,
giving glory to our Father in heaven.
Later that day a friend came with a book of medical papers
with definitions and explanations in a language I couldn't read, and he and I
sat across the coffee table on the floor and he translated piece by piece, and
we worked through the book, both us laughing, sometimes me crying, and easily
going off topic only and at the end, he put his hands out palms up on the
table, and I looked at him and said with surprise, “Your going to pray for me?”
and he did. And he was a light, shining before me, giving glory to our father
in heaven.
About a year ago now, there was one night I stopped by the
church late to pick up something, and I decided to go into the sanctuary just to
sit and pray. There was a faint light coming through the purple stained glass
highlighting the top edge of the pews; it was Lent and looked like it. First I
sat up in the front pew, where nobody sits, and I thought about the view, one
lacking distraction from what’s up front but devoid of the congregation even in
the periphery. I understood why many of the kids choose sit up front in on the
action, but one pew back with a corral to keep some semblance of space for the
parents. And I wondered what it would be like to sit in each person’s spot. I
found when I got to that spot I would start thinking about them, and praying
for them.
I thought about those kids and their parents, about just
what it takes to get them all ready to get out the door and to come here. I
thought about the exuberance of Maddy and Alex during children’s time and the
big brotherly duty of Jake leading the offering and the sweetness of Grace with
her hugs and I prayed for them. I thought about their parents, Jason and Annie,
and Melissa and Bill, and prayed likewise. And there in the dark, each one was
a light shining before me, giving glory to our father in heaven.
Then I moved to the next pew. I paused trying to remember
whose spot I was in and finally remembered the Cassidy’s, who would have needed
a long pew growing up for their numerous boys. Martha Cassidy was sick during
that time and I prayed in their empty feeling spot and I thought about Martha
with her silly hats going to visit patients and friends older than she in
nursing homes and homebound. And there in the dark, each one was a light
shining before me, giving glory to our father in heaven.
Amber and Benny
I sat in where Mark and Betsy sit, and thought it was one of
the best views and figured its part of what made it easy to listen, easy for
Mark to be the encourager smiling and nodding from the pews and for Betsy to
see and hear all those who needed prayer and checking in on from their middle
seats. I thought about their son Andy and I prayed for those with
addiction, and I thought about Anthony and I prayed for his growing up and
thanked God for Mark and Betty in his life, and I prayed for Jenny in Boise and her new husband
and child. And I prayed for health for Mark and Betsy and gave thanks that
there in the dark, they were a light shining before me, giving glory to our
father in heaven.
I sat in Irene Estabrooks seat, who had been coming for
awhile, I thought about her small voice but her adventure in moving here from Colorado and the way she
had surprised me by writing and sharing beautiful prose to one of the Advent
devotions. And there in the dark, she was light shining before me, giving glory
to our father in heaven.
I sat in LaVonne’s spot and thought about how similar we
were in a lot of ways, having lived a lot, and being strong outspoken women but
also I thought about her big heart and how I will never forget that one time
she prayed for me right before I had a funeral of a woman my own age. And I
prayed for Gary’s
ministry with the Giedons and the way he melts talking of his grandkids and I
prayed for them. There in the dark, they were light shining before me, giving
glory to our father in heaven.
I remember thinking that the pew right by where I had moved
the font was the perfect spot. The sanctuary seemed almost symmetrical and even
and you could see all around, and it made sense to me that Sharon Defrees who
with her mother had helped plan the interior of the sanctuary, sat near there.
When I got to the end where Rick Rembold sat I thought about how hard it was to
see from that angle and I noticed the places the church needed some work here
and there, and then I wondered which came first Rick fixing things around
church, or his sitting in that place and how they were connected. And for Rick
and Sharon and their family’s care of the church, and their community, I prayed
there in the dark, they were light shining before me, giving glory to our
father in heaven.
When I got to the back next to the Fellowship Hall I thought
of Bob McKim in his spot and how as a doctor he must have needed to slip out
the door if there was an emergency and I thought about how many children he had
brought into this world and how many Sharon had raised and cared for, and there
in the dark, they were light shining before me, giving glory to our father in
heaven.
It was like as I prayed each spot in the pews, that their
once dark empty rows became filled with light and figures of faces from whom
God’s presence shown, and I was in awe but how bright the sanctuary had become
once my eyes had adjusted to that vision of God. It makes sense to me that when
I read this scripture I think of all of you, whether you have sat in these pews
for as long as you can remember, or you are still finding your just right spot.
You are people whose light is shining before me, giving glory to our father in
heaven.
