Today, Jesus lifts up the crowds and asks them to become virtues of light whose goodness can be seen by others. God's light is to shine through the actions, attitudes, and dispositions of believers so that one's life-altering experience of God's goodness can be made visible. And yet, with such an uplifting message, I have always found myself hesitating with a small amount of trepidation when I have prayed over this passage. I reasoned that I must essentially be different than most people because this passage fails to inspire me. I knew the reason. I was vulnerable. I knew that when light shines on a place of darkness, the hidden areas of chaos are exposed and can be seen by many critics. I thought that exposure to the light would make me look less virtuous and less honorable. I did not want that which was hidden to be exposed, and as a priest friend of mine often says, "we are only as sick as our secrets."
Sometimes it is much easier for us to stay away from the full exposure of the light so we can deal with our dark areas according to our own volition. We do it at our own pace and under our own control. It is much more comforting to hold these areas close to our will so that we can neatly manage them before others. We realize that we each have areas of paralyzing fear and toxic shame in our lives that decide many of our actions. Most of the time, this toxic shame is passed onto us by unknowing parents who were born into a cycle of shame. And through life, we develop further dependencies and addictions and patterns of thinking and behaving that are in direct opposition to God's plan for us. It takes either a very rare strong person to break through the formative elements of his or her life to become a healthier individual or it takes the exceeding grace of a merciful God to free us. Only a deeper affection, that is, the mercy of God can free us. At some point in our lives, we humbly recognize that we need a Savior - because we cannot do it on our own.
When I last made my 30-day retreat, I was invited to assist in the daily chores of the farm. The retreat house was located in the semi-arid wine-growing regions of South Australia that was in the height of their vintage season. The sweet fragrance of ripe prize-winning grapes would draw me into a leisurely stroll through the vineyards. Each evening after supper I would walk back to my cottage and would notice the kangaroos frolicking in the rows the separated the vines. The orchard and garden next to my house was filled with choice fruits and abundant vegetables. Each night I would put the chickens and ducks in their pens to keep the foxes away from them, and the cows had a mighty bull to protect them. My daily chore was not as idyllic though.
I was asked to pick up the broken branches of trees that fell to the ground and to place them in a pile that was far away from the edge of the property where it could be gathered into a massive woodpile and later burned. No worries mate I said as I like to do outside yard work, even though I knew I would have to skillfully navigate the minefields of cow dung. It looked easy, but as I reached down to pick up the first branch, I recoiled in pain as my finger was stung. I looked to see if it was from one of the many deadly brown snakes or from the venomous red back spider. It was merely the tiny thorns on the branch itself. The next day I bought a pair of gloves and resumed my task.
These branches gashed me open often. They tore into my shirts and cut holes into my pants. I washed blood off of my arms, legs and neck each day and had looked like lost a fist fight as I entered into the dining room each night. These branches stung me where I did not expect. I continued with the project because I was beginning to realize that each of these branches were the memories of shame, fear, pain, and anger that are part of my formative history. It was a hurtful task to extricate each branch from the tangled pile of branches where it once lay. They did not want to budge and they clung to the other branches of turmoil. It was a dark mess of thorns. It would take great effort to pry them apart and to look at them in the light of day - as I was beginning to look at each memory - one by one - through my enlightening conversations with Christ. On its own, the branch was not too heavy. Apart from the tangled mess, it was not as formidable. Sure it could still draw blood, but it was not as fierce. When I pulled it apart and examined it with Christ, the sting of the memories lessened. The pain no longer held as much power and together we could toss out the stick of memories that kept me powerless and diminished. Through Christ, these memories could begin to be healed.
Though it was not what you would call fun, I looked forward to being with Christ each day to ask for his insight into these difficult memories. He was there simply to reveal to me that he was in those memories where I experienced hurt and he let me know of his compassion towards me when my boundaries had been transgressed by others. His presence to me and his willingness to let me know his feelings made all the difference in helping me reconstruct the memories in a new, liberating manner. They no longer debilitate or paralyze or are memories that I want to bury, and the pain has subsided. My confidence could grow, my ability to harmfully judge myself lessened, and I could see the new strength that these memories provided me. And as I scanned the fields where the branches once lay, sure enough sunlight now reached the ground and there were new desirable growth. My prayer throughout this time, was "Take, Lord, Receive, all my liberty, my memory..." and I would not complete the prayer because I realized I needed to give those memories to the Lord so that one day he would returned them to me revived.
This Gospel passage no longer instills hesitancy within me. When I pray it, I recall the memories of my inner work with the Lord. He is able to shine light upon areas that I wanted no one else to look at - because I could not look at them, but we worked through my fears and I was able to receive the light that only Christ could shine on them. My prayer is that each of us can look at their sources of toxic shame, their fears, those areas where others have sinned against them, those tangled, distorted memories that keep us debilitated. When we give them over to him, we truly do become children of the light because his power brings about an everlasting liberation. Bring your soul to the Lord and let him see what is there - the joy and the great extent of your charity, the deep hurt and disappointment. Bring whatever feeling and desire you have and place it before his sight. His mercy will be there to greet you. There's no turning back. With healed and forgiven souls, we merely follow the one who can save us.
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