When you enter a room at night, it’s pretty obvious whether or not a light switch has been turned on. When I drive home in the dark from work at 4:30 in the morning, other cars and streets lights point me in the right direction. Yet, as the sun rises, open windows may provide as much light as a ceiling fan or lamp. Determining if a light switch has been turned on or off during the day is not as clear as the sun replaces man made lights.
“You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt has lost its taste (purpose), how can it be made salty? It is no longer good for anything, but to be thrown out and walked on by people [when the walkways are wet and slippery], Matthew 5:13.
This same concept applies to faith. On Sunday’s, turning on Jesus is natural as believers enter their local house of God. Yet, after this service is over or as a hectic work week begins, turning off my faith has become a common occurrence. The light of others has blinded me from my own lame state, stuck in a casual faith, turning it on and off when I want. Whether I like it or not, I have enabled my sinful nature to block, interfere and stunt my own spiritual growth.
“You are the light of [Christ to] the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; 15 nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. 16 Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good deeds and moral excellence, and [recognize and honor and] glorify your Father who is in heaven, Matthew 5:14-16.
This on and off analogy came to me last night during an interaction with a co-worker. While getting a cup of ice water, I glanced up at the score of the Little League World Series game that was on in our break room. As I turned to leave, an associate approached with a condensed gospel presentation. After his two minute spiel, I told him I am already a believer, briefly sharing about my writing ministry. Yet, as I went back to work, this encounter consumed my soul with conviction. It’s time that I stop turning on and off my faith. Instead, I need keep the light of Christ in the on position so I don’t blend in or disappear in the dark.
by Jay Mankus