I have been hanging out the last couple of days with our youngest granddaughter who is four (her birthday was last month). It has been an incredibly joyful experience and an enlightening one. I always enjoy playing with Angelina and the other two granddaughters. But these last couple of days I have been reminded of the power of modeling, particularly my example. Angelina doesn’t miss anything and her probing “why” questions keep me on my toes. She is alert to the smallest thing and wants to know “why”?
As I was thinking about this, I was thinking about my modeling of the gospel before a watchful world. Of course, a great deal of those around us don’t really care or pay attention to the way we act or what we say. But some do, especially when they know that we claim to be followers of Christ. While there are many people who take great delight in pointing out the inconsistencies between word and life in those who profess to be followers of Jesus, there are many others who are sad and disappointed because they really wanted to know if there was something about this gospel of hope that they have heard about.
In a biography on Saint Francis of Assisi, the author writes these words: “Saint Francis filled the whole world with the gospel of Christ…by proclaiming everywhere the glad tidings of the kingdom of God. In doing so he made his whole body a tongue, so as to edify his listeners by example not less than by word.” This wholistic, incarnational witness gave rise to one of the little stories that circulated about Francis. Francis invited a brother to go with him into town to preach. They went together into the city, but Francis kept on going until he came out on the other side and left the city behind. Then the brother objected: “But we were supposed to preach.” To which Francis answered, “And so we did.”
If we claim to be followers of Jesus we are preaching by the way we conduct our daily lives -- by our priorities, our behavior, our choices, as well as our words.
There is a story about a boy who went to church with his mother on a sunny day. He was enthusiastic about the colorful figures that the sun traced through the stained glass windows onto the floor and he excitedly asked his mother what this and that meant. She whispered that this was such and such a saint, and that was another. Some time afterwards in Sunday school the teacher asked if anyone knew what a saint was. “I do,” the boy announced, “Someone that the light shines through.”
This isn’t a bad description. Saints are those who are transparent to the wonder and grace of God and allow it to shine through them. We don’t always get it right, but we can try to make sure that there is nothing in our lives that blocks or distorts or keeps the glory of God’s grace from shining through. This is one of the lessons we learn from Lent-- that as we journey through life, following Christ, we are to be transparent witnesses. We witness to the light that God wants to shine through us. And as we do, hopefully people see through us to the light that can enlighten and transform their lives.
This coming Sunday begins Holy Week when we reflect more deeply on the passion and transparency of Jesus. My prayer for all of us is that we might grow more and more like Jesus; that our lives might reflect God’s love and mercy, grace and peace for all the world to see. So that, even if they fail to hear our verbal testimony to what Jesus means to us, they will see it in our lives.
Blessings.
