I said Sunday night that a light had gone out in the world. I mentioned yesterday that sometimes the beacon seems distant and dim. We are so used to the metaphors of light and darkness. As I woke up in the darkness of the way predawn, quietly listening, I thought again about light.

Light is life. Vibrant. Shimmering. Radiant. Light is full of possibilities. Light is energy. Physicists will say it is also matter, in a sense. That should give us pause.

Of course, life allows us to see. What is it we see? That may seem obvious but I think maybe it goes deeper. I think we can also choose what to see. Light, then, is a door to possibilities.

Shannon was light. Yes, we’re all flawed, something Shannon always laid out in front of us as she pointed the finger back at herself. She’d be the first to admit her shortcomings, her struggles and temptations, where she felt she fell short that week. We’d all nod our heads as our own mind’s eyes looked inward and we saw the same rough patterns. This was not beat-yourself-up kinds of recriminations. Shannon modeled how we can never be so full of ourselves that we lose touch with what is really important.

Which makes me think of black holes. Forgive the geek talk for a moment. A black hole can be seen as the opposite of light. A black hole is a collapsed star so dense, its gravitational pull so strong, that even light cannot escape. A black hole sucks in light. Do we know any people like that?  People who just know how to take and not give?

Then there is Shannon. Yesterday, as a few of us gathered in the morning just to be together, I learned even more about her capacity to give. I suspect in the days and weeks to come, those accounts will flow and flow. In the giving, Shannon spread light.

I know many, many people who spread light. They kind of just shed it. I’m sure you can think of someone or some people like that. I can’t even begin to mention all of the ones I know.  If I were to try to list them here, I’d get pretty far but run the risk of leaving someone out. How embarrassing that would be!

Ok. I’ll mention three.

One is my friend, Emily. She’s a single mom living up in Spokane. Mid 50s. Has not had an easy life. She has known all sorts of pain. Anguish. We’ve been in and out of touch over the nearly 40 years we’ve known one another. Her mother married my uncle later in life, the one who is reclusive. So, Emily is my uncle’s stepdaughter. They have not always had the easiest of relationships as my uncle is not particularly good with relationships. A month or so ago, Emily was down in San Diego and dropped by to see my uncle. I won’t go into details here but to say that what Emily found was simply awful. Being Emily, she didn’t flinch but mustered resources and single handedly rescued my uncle. Now, this may seem commonplace and many people pull together when faced with huge challenges. I can’t share all of the reasons why Emily’s actions are so noteworthy. They just are. Emily is shining light.

The second is my friend, Gary. Gary will be back in prison this weekend, Thursday through Sunday. He’s there every Monday late afternoon and for extended times, like this weekend, a couple of times a year. Gary’s light shines in many places but prison is another place altogether. Gary just retired as a world-renowned scientist, specializing in exploring the deepest intricacies of matter and energy. More than a decade ago, he heard a call to go into prison, as foreign to him as it is to most of us. He battled the call but finally surrendered. Thankfully. Gary is a beacon, bringing light to the lives of men who live in that darkest of places. Gary sacrifices a lot to go in there. The drive in traffic down to Donovan, resting as it does on the border, can be miserable. The destination is miserable. The choice is his. Gary’s actions help transform lives. They bring light.

 
The third is my Diane. I remember her walking through the door on the night of January 15, 1982. The beginning of a blind date, organized at the house of some mutual friends. All I saw was beauty and, as the evening developed, I realized that her beauty ran deep.

Most of you reading this know Diane. Some do not. Those of you who know her will understand completely why I choose to go here.

When I spoke at Diane’s mother’s memorial, I mentioned that her mom, June, seemingly had a pure and radiant heart. I shared that June had inherited that from her own mother, who was called Grandjoy by the grandkids and all others who knew her. Diane clearly inherited that heart from those women.

Diane will not like reading this. But, I need to say it. Diane lights up spaces. She blows in with smiles and laughter. It doesn’t matter where she is or seemingly who she talks to. She gives and she cares. Is there a one of you who knows her who doesn’t see that?

What do we learn from these three and the many others who they represent?

Part of me wants to go all theological here but I’ll try to refrain. 🙂  Well, maybe I’ll dip my toe in it.

We are children of the light. We are designed to shine. We are designed to pour out love and deeply bless those around us. Those who subscribe to an exclusively naturalist worldview would have to say that somehow survival of the fittest must explain why we sacrifice our own needs, at cost to ourselves, in order to give to others.  I’m not going to spend time here going down that rabbit trail. I’ll simply say that I’ve finally come to the conclusion that lives like theirs is no accident but reflective of the essence of humanity.

As I conclude this piece, it’s still dark but I can see out our picture window that the sky has the faintest tinge of deep blue. Dawn is coming. The day will begin. Life will bustle. What will all of this bring? What choices will we make today about what we see and do? At the end of the day as we slip into rest, how will our lives have mattered in the spaces between dark? Will any of the light remain?

Jesus tells his disciples in Luke 11:33-36, “No one lights a lamp and puts it in a place where it will be hidden, or under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, so that those who come in may see the light. Your eye is the lamp of your body. When your eyes are healthy, your whole body also is full of light. But when they are unhealthy, your body is full of darkness. See to it, then that the light within you is not darkness. Therefore, if your whole body is full of light, and no part of it dark, it will be just as full of light as when a lamp shines its light on you.”

Lord, thank you for the gift of Light. We recognize where it comes from. At least we try. Help us to find the dark places, in ourselves and in this world, so that light can shine and illuminate. And, by illumination, bring vibrancy, radiance and beauty. To bring life. Help us to have eyes to see, hearts to feel and the hands to carry out those things that need to be done. Thank you for bringing people like Shannon, Emily, Gary, Diane and all of the legions of others like them into our own lives. Yes, with Shannon’s passing a light has gone out in the world. Thankfully, this world still has plenty left. Amen.