Living a Transparent Life.

Have you ever sat and watched a fire?

I mean really looked at it, seen it.

I confess to being something of a pyromaniac. I once wasted a couple of books of matches one afternoon, by laying matches around the inside of an ashtray and then lighting one match and watching the flame burn through the pattern I’d set up. There was a small flare (explosion) when the fire reached the business end of a match, and that was really why I did it. I like explosions - action movies are nothing without at least one fiery explosion.

I find fire hypnotising. Ancient peoples spoke of fire as a living thing, and I am not surprised. Like living things, fire requires oxygen in order to survive. It also requires fuel. It dances, it moves. It grows. It gives heat and light.

For this reason, many churches have a perpetual flame in their sanctuary. This flame is a sign of the presence of God.

Jesus spoke to the people around Him, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”

John 8.12, NRSV

“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lapstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to tyour Father in heaven.”

Matthew 5.13-16, NRSV

Jesus is the light of the world.

This means that He shines. He is alive, and He shows us where our faults lie. Where there is light, there can be no darkness. Light causes objects to cast shadows, but it also illuminates flaws. When I paint or draw, I often hold my work up to a bright light source so that I can see if I have made any obvious mistakes. The strong light is the only way to be sure, especially when I am working on a piece that is composed primarily of darker colours.

Of all the light that shines into our lives, the light of Christ is by far the strongest and the most beautiful. But that light can, certainly, be blinding.

I have, in my room, a fibre optic lamp that gives off a pale multicoloured glow when I turn it on. I bought it because it is incredibly “stimmy”, for both my visual and tactile stimulation. I turn it on before I go to sleep at night and watch the fibre optic “fan” spin slowly and change colour as it turns, as I hold my hand and sometimes my wrist or arm just close enough that I can feel the tickle of the ends of the fan. It is incredibly relaxing.

During the winter, I get up while it is still dark outside. My eyes, being hazel, are very sensitive to bright lights first thing in the morning, and so I use the fibre optic lamp to help my eyes adjust to the idea of being awake and having light in them. Five to ten minutes of the lamp being on as I lie in bed with my eyes closed is enough to accustom my eyes to the light enough that when I turn on the bright overhead light in my room, my eyes adjust almost immediately.

We are the light of the world.

I liken our role - the role of Christians the world over - to the use I make of my fibre optic lamp during the winter. We are to bring the light of Christ to the world, making it more palatable… not as blinding. Once their spiritual eyes are used to the idea of this light, then Christ Himself can shine into their lives with His full radiance.

My fibre optic lamp gives off a less harsh kind of light because the light is diffused through the fan, and because of the light filters that the light passes through before it gets to the fan. It still has a regular light bulb inside - the kind that will blind you if you stare at it too long.

As Christians, we are like that fibre optic lamp.

The light that we give to the world is not much compared to that offered by Christ, but its source is the bright Truth of our Lord and Saviour, and that shines through us, through the multicoloured filters of personal faith and experience, and through the fibre optic fan of our actions in this world.

Getting back to fire and transparency…

Fire is transparent.

Just look at it sometime. Really watch it.

You can see through it a lot of the time.

I wonder how we can expect to reach the world - to give our light to the world - without being transparent?

Jesus was transparent.

He lived a transparent life. He did not gloss over things, He did not shy away from confrontation. He talked about the hard stuff, and He took the challenges presented Him without a second thought. Yes, He was vague about some things. But fire is not completely transparent - not by any stretch of the imagination. If it were, then it would not have any colour associated with it.

I think we forget about the transparency of fire when we ask God to “light the fire again”. We want the energy and the passion that are associated with fire, but we don’t realise that part of being on fire is also being transparent.

To live a transparent life is to be as completely real as possible. It is to truly be “in the world but not of it”. It is to meet people where they are at, instead of expecting them to somehow find their way to where we are. To connect with others on their terms, in a real way. To be your self, instead of wearing the masks we put on so often as we seek our place in the world. To not be afraid of others seeing our flaws. For nobody is perfect.

To live a transparent life means that not everyone will like us. In fact, some people will hate us outright. We may lose our lives. But transparent lives are passionate lives, full of movement, and they are worth whatever time we are given on this earth.

Who else out there is willing to take that step into the fire and come out transparent on the other side?