Where am I in the light?

For the last several years, I’ve had the privilege of working at Trinity United Methodist Church in Richmond, Virginia.

My life prior to Trinity had been grounded in over thirty years of work in public education.

I would not trade anything for either experience. Churches and schools have lots in common.

Both evolve around people. In either setting, I have met and worked with quite an array of good people.

Much of the work in churches and schools is grounded in “turf and personalities.” Turf being sacred territory in a church or school building, and the caring, but sometimes slightly possessive personalities who look after that turf. Learning to manage “turf and personalities” can be an interesting journey at a church or school.

In our forty eight years of marriage, my wife has noted my own “turf and personality” traits. From her perspective, I have been overly dedicated to the schools where I have served and Trinity.

Truthfully, I can say the same about my wife. She spent her career in public education working with students who had special needs. She was diligent in meeting the academic needs of her students. That same dedication is still pushing her in volunteer work in the Richmond community.

On a fairly regular basis, what is remaining of my old brain will push me back into my educator past to revisit tough days. In some of those situations, I still anguish when I think about what I call “alligator days”—days when every living thing is snapping at you. I’ve had some alligator days at Trinity, but nothing in comparison to the school setting.

Sometimes to get through an alligator day, all I needed was a quick distraction

At Trinity, my distraction is sunlight as it enters the Sanctuary.

I love how the sun casts its light into this stately room. The rising morning light from the east and the sinking afternoon light from the west will always find a way to push through the windows and shutters.

For years, I resisted giving up my old flip phone. But when that transition took place, I was immediately taken by the ability to snap photographs in a blink. I can’t tell you how many photos I have taken of the sunlight gracefully illuminating a section of the sanctuary. In truth, I could take Sanctuary photographs everyday.

As much as I love how sunlight creates pretty images in the Sanctuary, I also think about this scripture from the first chapter of John verse five: “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overtake it.”

During Advent and Christmas light is an important part of the journey. Jesus is thought of as the “light” of the world. The star in the night sky helped to guide the wisemen. Anytime a heavenly angel appears in the story of Jesus’ birth, I imagine quite a radiant, glow brightens the evening environment.

Yet, as good as the light might be, there are times when I want to question the scripture found in John. I sense in this world there are times when the light is overcome by darkness. Unfortunately, we don’t have to look to far to see this.

Consider the conflicts between Ukraine and Russia, Israel and Palestine, and all the people whose seemingly normal lives have been shattered. A darkness hovers over them with the loss of homes, employment, and for many the heartbreaking death of a loved one.

Other examples of the light being overtaken by darkness could include anytime a person in America dies from a gunshot, death by suicide, drug overdoses, and even loneliness.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m always going to be cheering for light to overcome the dark challenges that we face in this world.

However, in a world where the impact and influence of the church has shifted, how can the light of hope be presented to those who are in need?

Truthfully, I think being that light of hope for a person in the fringes of the darkness comes down to my courage, and this question—“Am I willing to be a part of helping that person find the light he/she needs?”