Hurricane Lamp - Matthew 5:16

Vol. 1                                                     Issue 23

“Let your light shine before men, that seeing your good works, they will praise your Father in Heaven.”  Matthew 5:16

Just outside of the back door of the R.J. Reynolds High School gymnasium in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, stands an oak tree.  On Friday evenings in the fall of 1973, this oak tree was the meeting place of high school football players attending pre-game devotions.  I don’t remember many of the devotions, but on one occasion the subject of the lesson was Matthew 5:16. The devotion was led by a senior tailback whose father was a Presbyterian minister. It was one of the first verses I committed to memory. 

What an awe-inspiring proclamation Jesus makes to the Disciples:  “You are the salt of the earth! … You are the light of the world! … Let your light so shine before men, that seeing your good deeds, they shall praise your Father in heaven.” (Matt.5: 13, 14, 16)

The order of the two pronouncements is interesting. The first is a proclamation of substance; the second is a proclamation of derivative effect.  A Christian must be something before he can affect others. A development of a certain quality of life must precede the dissemination of that life upon others. 

In the First Century,salt and light were essential and much sought- after commodities. Salt was an essential preservative. Meat, especially, would spoil if not salted soon after an animal was slaughtered. What a sad implication this description has for the rest of the world.  For if Christians are the world’s salt, the clear implication is that the rest of the world, absent the preservative, is nothing more than a rotting, decaying shell. 

What then is the purpose of salt?  Salt is an agent by which meat is preserved. It is an antiseptic temporarily preventing the natural putrefaction of a dead animal. Such is a function of a Christian in a dead and dying world. The presence of a Christian intermingled with the world will delay and sometimes even prevent the inevitable decay of morality.  Our presence alone reminds even the most degenerate of individuals of the principles of fairness, kindness and respect for others. 

Salt is also an element that brings out the flavor of bland and tasteless food.  The presence of salt changes the perception of food, making it more desirable. Similarly, disciples living in a cruel and uncaring world offer a different perspective to situations that most of the world finds tasteless.

Common perceptions often give way in the face of abundant- living disciples.  To Christians, death is not to be feared, but celebrated.  Service to others is not some burdensome obligation, but instead a joy. The vituperation of enemies is not met with retaliation, but with prayer.  Forgiveness as an essential part of life removes the clutter of grudges and vengeance.

The presence of Christians in the world is that of a good infection, healing wounds, relieving pain and suffering, and making the quality of life, even in the most miserable of places, joyful!

We become luminaries only as a result of the development of a saltiness in our life.  For a Christian, light is the natural derivative of salt. How the Christian interacts with those living in a dark world is the true measure of our discipleship.

In an age void of electricity, darkness was the curse of mankind.  All activity ceased without the presence of light. If Christians are light, the implication of a world living in self-imposed darkness is abundantly clear.

Observe how it is our light - our works, rather than our personalities which draws others to God.   We are beacons revealing the paths to God, but the same light exposes the ugliness, the pettiness and the evil of the selfish world in which we live. 

Last Sunday, Reverend Kevin Frack delivered the meditation before the communion service at Ardmore Moravian Church.  He held up a lantern to illustrate the point of his lesson. He explained that railroad workers and lighthouse keepers used this kind of lamp.  Even in the midst of driving rain storms, the light contained in the lamp would shine forth, protected by glass encasement.  Once he lighted the lamp, he waved it around to illustrate his point.  The flame shined forth.  Nothing he could do would affect the beacon.

It seems that this lantern was known as a Hurricane Lamp, for once lit, the light was quite safe from the elements.  Neither wind, nor rain would affect the beacon. Even in the middle of a hurricane, this lantern’s light would shine brightly.  Only impurities in the fuel could weaken the flame, and only mud or debris covering the lamp would obscure its beacon.  The Hurricane Lamp was a personal lighthouse for all who carried it, lighting paths in the dark night and providing warnings to unsuspecting travelers.

Our faith, then, observed Rev. Frack, is like a Hurricane Lamp. As the only light in a very dark world, the illumination Christians provide is what the world sees of us. Only impurities – the contamination caused by our sins – will ever diminish the flame.  Only the debris of life can obscure our beacon.  His meditation was an exposition of Matthew 5:16, a verse I learned beneath an oak tree some 30 years ago.

It was a fitting end to a busy week for me.  On Tuesday, I was in Washington, for the ceremony honoring the opening of the 109^th Congress* and the beginning of the term of Richard Burr as United States Senator from North Carolina. I recalled Matthew 5:16 on that day as well.  For you see, the tousled haired tailback, who led the devotions beneath the oak tree in 1973, is now the junior Senator from the State of North Carolina.

Being certain that good works are sure to follow the tenure of Richard Burr in the United States Senate, let’s make sure that praise is not given to the government he represents, but to the God he serves.

*(This article was written in January 2005...much time has passed Senator Burr is now the senior senator from North Carolina having been re-elected in 2010)