Touched By The Light Of Christ

Matt 25:1-13  1 Thess 4:13-18

 

In his debut novel “Random Acts of Divine Love” Danny Scheinmann describes the inside of a church in the Siberian town of Rohatyn towards the end of the Great War.

 

“The pews had been moved to one side. There were only a dozen beds so most of the wounded lay shoulder to shoulder on the floor and there was barely any room to walk. It was dark but for a sharp ray of sunshine that pierced the west window and created a glowing halo of light over a particular soldier, such that whenever I walked in my eye would immediately fall upon that soldier, as if he were somehow special. And as the sun set, the solitary ray shifted from soldier to soldier and lifted each one in turn out of the obscurity, as if God himself were scrutinising them and choosing who would live or die”

 

(Random Acts of Divine Love – Danny Scheinmann p.53)

 

A soldier lying in a church as he hovers between life and death and is suddenly struck by the light of Christ.

But not the searching light of judgement the writer seems to be hinting at, but rather a longing dart of love thrown from the cross, thrown through time and space to settle on that beloved child at their darkest hour.

A ray of light we cannot earn or deserve but is given to each as the gift of God’s undying love.

 

And this light continues to shine in the darkness and the darkness continues to not overcome it.

If that’s true – we do not gather in church on Remembrance Sunday just to rekindle past things.

It is vital to recall the sacrifice of so many for the freedom we all hold dear.

The heartache and sorrow of families torn apart through loss.

To hope that even now we can learn from the past and build something better.

We also gather to recognise that the solitary ray of sunlight still shines on each of those who fell and we raise our light towards them and call it our prayer.

 

The raising up of our light is the work of the church and the whole task of prayer and it is made clear at our Baptism.

These days at Baptism a lighted candle is given.

“Receive this light” we say as we wave it in front of the newly baptised resting peacefully in its mother’s arms

“Shine as a light in the world to the glory of God the Father” – we say.

This is not some vague and comfortable ritual.

Rather it takes us back to the church turned into a wartime hospital and that ray of light  piercing the gloom.

And it says – that is what you are called to be and do.

Take this light into the hardest places you can find and shine for all you’re worth.

Join with the vision described in our Epistle reading – that we are all to be caught up together with Christ.

In his love and in his light.

 

We wince at what we see happening around the world.

We pray for peace but wonder how it might come about.

It comes through those who will bare the light bravely.

Into the parts of our own lives that are warring.

Where good and evil create a battleground deep within that only we know about.

In situations of disunity and severed friendship in the lives of those whom we know.

And in the battlegrounds that are beyond us.

So massive and panoramic in their capacity to reek havoc that we tend to turn away and leave the shining to the truly brave.

In all this we come as church – to shine as a light in the world.

 

Our Gospel reading is a reminder for those who do not take their calling seriously enough.

The maidens who were not able to keep their lights burning – because they did not think they would be needed for so long – they did not think that they were being relied upon to light the way.

 

So when we stand to face the war memorial at the eleventh hour and those names are read out.

Think of the light shining upon them in the near company of the heavenly kingdom they now inhabit.

When in our intercessions week by week, we pray for individuals unknown to us – or deeply known – think of the ray of sunlight touching them in that moment.

And when you come and kneel to receive bread and wine in that most holy moment of our liturgy – think of a single ray of sunlight piercing the gloom and shining upon you and only you for that moment.

 

That ray of sunlight is a costly thing.

It cost the Son of God his life.

And you and I – the baptised – we are caught up in the continued sacrifice of love that must be given – to keep the hope of peace burning as much now as then.

 

RH 9.11.08