I met with a new lector at our parish the other day for orientation and a conversation ennobling the ministry of proclamation. As part of our discussion, I shared an essay we have used as the basis of our annual lector meetings: “Turning Ink Into Blood.” When we pray, ponder, and then proclaim the scriptures, we are indeed converting the ink on the page into the ‘blood’ of the Living Word of God, ever new for this time and place. What a sacred work.
I was reminded of the ever-new label when I was preparing for this meditation. Two years ago, when I had reflected and written on this same Gospel analogy of Jesus, I focused on the call to naming, claiming, and celebrating our gifts, now boldly displayed on the lampstand of our faith. “Jesus' teachings in today's Gospel have nothing to do with advice to overcome shyness by embracing a call to boasting or gloating,” I wrote. 'Letting our light shine' is not an invitation to a ‘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. Grateful for the gift, grateful for opportunities to use that gift well, it is the spirit of Mary's Magnificat at its height. True humility is expressed not in quashing our God-given gifts, but in recognizing their source and shepherding them to their fullest expression.
Amen. Still all true, I believe, two years out. But today, I see another truth in the reading, coming from a recent read of the powerful and painful spiritual memoir Torrent of Grace: A Catholic Survivor’s Healing Journey after Clergy Abuse. It can be more than our gifts lying dormant in the dark. To reveal the sins and shame and brokenness and betrayal allowed to fester there may require our deepest courage, author Mark Williams reminds us– he who can, almost miraculously, write that “the Church that hurt me is also the Church that has helped. It’s been the lifeline back, my interior, the peace of my faith.” Witness too the prophetic words this week of Archbishop Timothy Broglio, president of the U.S. Bishops’ Conference, bringing out of the dark the faceless, vulnerable, maligned, scapegoated, now filled-with-fear fellow children of God in our communities dealing with the human repercussions of political decisions made in far away Washington.
A priest friend recently shared an important lesson he learned during his seminary days and has never forgotten: “That which is not revealed cannot be redeemed.” Whether it be the shadows in our own conscience, or in the collective consciousness of our communities, country, and Church, discomfiting truths now share the lampstand with our gifts. May the light of Christ lead to revelation of both in equal measure.