One time, at elementary school science camp, I got scared in the dark.

 

To be more precise, my camp counselor scared the bejeebers out of me and my cabin mates. How? He took us on a nighttime hike into the forest. Once we were sufficiently far from the ambient light of the campgrounds, he instructed us to sit in a circle, turn off our flashlights, and be very quiet. Then he recited “The Telltale Heart” by Edgar Allan Poe. When he finished his recitation, he blew a whistle that sounded like a thousand fingernails scraping across a blackboard. (He told us it was a hunter’s call that imitated the distress sounds of a rabbit.) Sitting quietly in the dark, we began to hear sniffing and prowling sounds among the trees around us. At that point, the counselor allowed us to turn on our flashlights, and we hightailed it back to camp.

 

The hike wouldn’t have been scary at all if we’d taken it during daylight. There is something about darkness that sharpens our hearing, quickens our pulses, and magnifies our fears. Light, however, quickly dispels those very same fears. It shows us where we are, what is around us, and how to make our way home safely.

 

In Matthew 5.14–16, Jesus says to his disciples: “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”

 

These three verses consist of a metaphor, two obvious illustrations, and a concluding exhortation. The metaphor is that Christians are “the light of the world.” The obvious illustrations are the city on a hill and lamp on a stand, which cannot hide their light. And the concluding exhortation is to practice good deeds, for they illuminate the pathway to our heavenly Father’s home.

 

When you think about Jesus’ words in their original context, they are quite astounding. He did not say, “you are a light of the world,” with the implication that there are many other lights. He said, “you are the light of the world.” And he did not say this to rich, powerful, well-educated people. He said it to poor, weak, uneducated farmers, fishers, and manual laborers. Jesus expected great things of his disciples, however poor and significant their outward circumstances might be. A person’s character, you see, is never limited by his circumstances. You can perform good deeds if you are poor and insignificant, and you can perform evil deeds if you are wealthy and well connected. Personal choices, not personal circumstances, determine character.

 

So, what choices are we making as Christians in America? Are we doing good deeds for God’s glory and our neighbor’s benefit? Or are we hiding our lamp under a bowl?