By Heather Melton, UTO Staff Officer
For those who know me, it likely comes as no surprise that a lot of my favorite Scripture comes from the prophets. As you’re reading this, we’ve just entered the season of Epiphany, and the vast majority of Epiphany sermons will focus on the arrival of the Wise Men, but we’d be remiss if we didn’t also take a moment and notice the Hebrew Bible lesson from Isaiah. (For those of you who heard this lesson and thought it was familiar, it is also Canticle 11, which is my favorite canticle, “Surge, illuminare.”) So why is this such a great lesson that likely took a backseat to the three men who got lost in the desert even though they had a giant star to follow? I hope you’ll indulge me for a bit on this one.
Isaiah 60 is a transitional part of the book of Isaiah as the prophet moves from discussing the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple to what it will be like when there is a new Jerusalem and a new temple. This section of Isaiah is the dream that God has for the world through the voice of the prophet. The big piece to note is that out of despair, Jerusalem will arise and be light to the world. Jerusalem will be home to many people, and the foundation of the community that will be rebuilt is justice.
The new Jerusalem is rooted in justice, oppression of any kind is gone, and people are loved and cared for; there’s no longer rich or poor, slave or free, but a society built upon caring for everyone equally and working together. It’s a really lovely image and one that the prophet acknowledges doesn’t exist yet. It would be easy to read this and feel despair over this image of the world that simply doesn’t exist, and I get that. (Even as I typed this, I thought to myself, it would be nice if God would come in like some divine Bob Ross and paint this picture for us.) While I feel the despair of wanting things to change for the better for all people, I also see the hope in what the prophet is telling us. The new Jerusalem is built in our hearts each time we choose to rise up and shine.
Epiphany is the reminder that the hope of the world was born on Christmas into our hearts, and we are the ones to bear the light of Christ into our communities. Here in the Northern hemisphere, the daylight is increasing, which reminds us of that great quote from Martin Luther King Jr.: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that.” Epiphany is the time to remember that we are bearers of light. We are called to arise, shine.
So what does that mean or what does it even look like? For me, bearing the light looks like finding the places where I can be present and not distracted, or where I can recognize someone’s humanity, instead of just seeing them as a moment within a transaction at a store or restaurant. My kids have really started to notice how much we use our phones or devices, so one way I’m trying to do better is to put mine away when I’m at restaurants, stores, and after a certain time each day. I also am trying to be better about not letting my internal to-do list keep me from hearing someone seeking connection. I’m trying to choose to show up more and worry less about chores and tasks; it always all gets done somehow.
Gratitude is one way to bear the light into the world. When we say thank you, we recognize the connection between us and someone else. We acknowledge the gift that the person is and that they have given us. Gratitude pushes against the idea that we have to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps, and instead takes a step back and notices all the things that aided in our growth and development, from people to circumstances to privilege, and invites us to offer what we have to help others. Gratitude begins to build a more just society because it recognizes that we are enough, that we have enough, and that we need each other for those to be true.
This January, I hope you’ll join me in considering the ways that God is calling you to arise, shine, and participate in the creation of a more just society. However you do it, just know that I am grateful for you and the light you shine into the world in all the ways that are seen and unseen.