Make Light Work

     I have been intrigued lately by Jesus’ description of us, His disciples, as a city on a hill.  We have a lot of those here in Grenoble. No, I’m not necessarily talking about disciples. We could use a lot more around here. But we do have a lot of hills. And mountains. Big ones, in fact.

     One of the prettiest sights in this valley which is full of them, is to look up at night and see the dancing lights of the small communities that dot the surrounding mountainsides. It inspires valley dwellers to say from afar “I want to visit that place one day.”  True community emanating Jesus’ warm light is pretty attractive.  Hopefully, it’s what makes the courageous few non-initiated seekers decide to give our Christian groups and meetings a shot. But what do they feel and experience as they pay a visit?  I imagine if I hiked up to explore one of our hilltop communities, the same lights that attracted me would be coming from pretty houses with welcome mats in front of the door. But I would still be on the outside looking in. All the warmth and light and laughter on the inside of the house, would now only frustrate me, as I stand shut out in the cold. Appreciating the light can degenerate quickly into resenting those in the light who remain blissfully ignorant of my presence just outside the window, enjoying their meals, their bedtime stories or their Monday Night Football.

     I think this is why Jesus followed up his city metaphor by saying, “No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket. Instead, a lamp is placed on a stand, where it gives light to everyone in the house.” It’s that last phrase that really stuck with me. A city on a hill, Jesus-style, doesn't just radiate light. It’s not enough to catch someone's eye; we have to capture their hearts by inviting them all the way in to the house. Here the original word is better translated household, or family. Simply put, we have to try extremely hard to help people feel like they belong to what we have and who we are.  By giving them complete access to our hearths and our hearts, regardless of race, religion, or rebellious lifestyle.

    We are trying to build an authentic, non-religious community of Christ-followers here in this alpine city. What Grenoble is physically – a city on a hill – is what we purpose to be spiritually.  Grenoble historically was a place of refuge for persecuted Protestants in the 1500’s and for Jews hunted down by Nazis and their collaborators during World War II.  It continued to be a destination for displaced peoples during and after the Algerian conflict a half-century ago.  Today, immigrants still flock to this city, escaping their past in search of a real future. 

      God is also calling us to be like one of the six cities of refuge in the Old Testament which were set apart to receive those caught in crisis of their own making. These cities were the inheritance of the Levites, who were already well-versed in mediating between the harsh law and a sinful people.  Who better than they to serve as a compassionate buffer between the hapless pursued and the hell-bent pursuers? This is one of the key roles we feel called to fulfill. Grenoble, our city-of-refuge-on-a-hill, will continue to be a cross-roads for the asylum seeker and international sojourner. There are many, political, religious and economic refugees, students, laborers, and stateless immigrants who find themselves in France.  They possibly were attracted here by the lights of hope and promise they observed from a distance. But sadly, upon arriving here, they are often shut out from structures of culture, community and even church that surround them. If hospitality is an art, we can’t just offer to a world in crisis and conflict sterile replicas or shameful forgeries. We have to paint from our hearts daily, epic works of beauty and warmth that draw people into the scene, captured and inspired.