Growing up in the mountains, we didn’t have any streetlights. There weren’t many neighbors nearby either, so when we would play outside, sometimes it was pitch black. My uncle bought us this set one time that I’ll never forget. It was this cheap little walky-talky and flashlight combo. The little radio was camouflaged and had the Morse code on the front. This toy turned my brother and me into Seal Team 6, and we would use our little flashlights to go through the woods, sneaking into battle after battle. It was funny how those little dollar store toys lit up the forest and made us feel like we could see everything.
Then my dad bought this incredible light. It was something insane, like a million-candle power. Occasionally, one of us would sneak it out of the house and shine it around, especially when it was foggy. In our minds, we thought it was reaching all the way into space. Then, because we were boys and thought it was funny to be mean to one another, one of us would step out from behind a tree and, boom, shine it right in the other’s face. All of a sudden, that little flashlight didn’t seem so bright. All we could see was the darkness. Compared to that big light we had just seen, the toy no longer seemed to light up anything at all, even though it was still producing as much light as before.
To me, this helps me make sense of what Jesus is saying in today’s Gospel. Many people have tried to use these words and others from the scriptures to justify many things, including hate for their fellow man. But the church, in her liturgies, has consistently shown us that Jesus taught us to love one another, and that all of the law and prophets hinge on love for God and our neighbor. Our first reading from the book of Romans says again: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself. Love does no evil to the neighbor; hence, love is the fulfillment of the law.” We know that Jesus didn’t mean to hate our father and mother, wife and children, and so on.
Jesus uses a literary technique where he uses something not meant to be taken literally but meant to express how much more important it is to put God first in our lives.
When we look at the cost of discipleship, it outweighs every other commitment we have. Loving God is first, then loving others as ourselves. It’s like that big flashlight. We were created in the image of that love, a love so vast and powerful that it outshines every other love that our human hearts can imagine. Only when we can be washed over and filled with the love of Christ, when we allow the Sacraments to begin to change us into who we were truly created to be, can we begin to love as Christ loves. Then, those little lights of love that shine into every corner, every relationship, and every experience we have in our daily lives can begin to light up the world.
Theologian Walter Burghardt once described contemplative prayer in this way: “a long, loving look at the real.” When we look at God and seek His face, we find He is the spotlight. When we look at Him, He, in turn, looks back at us and illuminates us with His love. Like a massive spotlight, He doesn’t just make us shine in a world of darkness; His light reflects off us and brightens the rest of the world.
A homily for Wednesday of the 31st Week in Ordinary Time: November 8th, 2023