"I'm gonna let it shine...."
by Linda Barette
It's a pretty safe bet to say that the repertoire of most church pre-school children's choirs includes the gold standard "This Little Light of Mine." Can't you just see the velvet-dressed or bow-tied three year olds shouting out with gusto: "Hide it under a bushel, NO! I'm gonna let it shine!"
Hide it under a bushel? Who does that anymore? The advice seems almost quaint in an era where political candidates, without guile or shame, put forth bloated or fabricated resumes, when 17-year-olds are pressured-cooked into presenting a college application filled with thirty years of achievements, when this last batch of Christmas cards from dear friends showcased Glad Tidings of Great Joy coming in pictures of all the post-pandemic cruises and travel that was theirs to enjoy.
Jesus' teachings in today's Gospel have nothing to do with overcoming shyness by embracing a call to boasting or gloating. 'Letting our light shine' is not an invitation to ego-stroking or selfie pride, but a beckoning to letting the joy in the Christ-centered life pour out through us like the oil in a well-lit lamp. Part of that joy comes in naming and claiming the gifts we have been given, discovering and then operating out of that spiritual sweet spot of our vocational call, where, as theologian and poet Frederick Buechner has written, we find the deep gladness of using our gifts to serve the world's deepest needs. (Perhaps that intersection and swirl helps explain a bit the enigmatic way our Gospel passage ends. "To the one who has, more will be given...." ) Grateful for the gift, grateful for opportunities to use that gift well, the spirit of Mary's Magnificat at its height-- this a posture so different from the "She's so stuck on herself" snarky label that was used to dismiss those girls (never guys!) in my high school crowd that got a little too cocky. True humility is expressed not in quashing our God-given gifts, but in recognizing their source and shepherding them to their fullest expression.
Today the Church memorializes the work and witness of Saints Timothy and Titus, close companions of the Apostle Paul and bishops in the early Christian community. Looking at the life and lifestance of each man, it is inspirational to cull out the gifts they placed at the service of their faith as missionary disciples-- gifts of intellect and scholarship and oratory, gifts of organization and leadership, gifts of courage and zeal, gifts of accompaniment and companionship. (The gift of hospitality offered by women of means in those early house churches in the urban home bases of Titus and Timothy, attributed too with spreading the Gospel like lightning, are not memorialized today but are potent elements of the story indeed.)
Paul's second letter to Timothy begins with his charge to "stir into flame the gift of God that you have received." How might our flame come out from beneath its bushel basket today? How will we put our gifts-- for hospitality, for listening without judgment, for writing or speaking, for leadership -- at the service of the world's deep needs? Resumes are one thing, eulogies another. How are we adding to the fodder of our eulogy, where nary a business card will make an appearance? Using our God-given gifts well, let the light shine.