The Quality of Light

Have you ever noticed what a marvelous thing light is?  Not only does light allow our eyes to function, so we may visually interact with the world around us.  But light can also perform little miracles of mood - injecting beauty or sorrow or joy or excitement or worry into a situation, just because of the quality of the light in a scene. Photographers and painters are particularly aware of this phenomenon, and I think any architect or home designer worth their salt considers carefully the effects of light in their planning.

I was especially struck by the quality of light at church this past Sunday.  I was assisting at the altar, and happened to glance behind me toward the flower arrangements that sit on shelves on the wall behind the altar.   Rosy morning light, filtered and tinted by the stained glass above, was gently illuminating the arrangement in a most stunning manner!

 The arrangement itself was quite simple for Lent - just branches from (I think) a magnolia tree.  But the light caught the few blossoms that had started to come out and they simply glowed.  Stunning!  The arrangement on the other side of the altar made a striking contrast.  No special light fell on that vase, and the branches of that arrangement were dead and bare - no flowers, no light, no life!

And that got me to thinking about one of the readings from earlier in the service:

For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. It is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. But everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light. This is why it is said: “Wake up, sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” (Ephesians 5:8-14, NIV 2011)

Those two arrangements - one in the sunlight, with flowers and life, tinted with a wholesome glow, and one not in sunlight, barren and dead-looking - are a perfect metaphor and illustration of living in the light versus living in darkness.  I'm pretty sure both vases of branches were about the same when they were prepared by the altar guild.  Yet one group of branches was bathed in light that drew forth the potential within, the flowers, the life.  And the other group, without light, not only didn't blossom, but also lost its potential to ever do so.

The light of Christ's presence can inspire growth and regeneration in even those parts of our lives that might seem the barest, driest branches of ourselves.  But the power of the Light of Jesus is greater.  All we need to do is expose ourselves - all our deepest darkest, most hidden corners - to that Gracious Light.  And Jesus will slowly, surely begin to bring forth life and growth.  

"Everything that is illuminated becomes a light."  Shine forth, my friends!