Keepers of the Light

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden… Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” — Matthew 5:14-16 (NRSV)

Driving along the rugged coast of Maine, you can’t help but notice the lighthouses—some perched on rocky cliffs, others tucked into quiet harbors. On a recent harbor cruise of Boothbay, we passed several. Their silhouettes stood tall against the horizon, reminders of a time when their beams were essential for guiding ships safely to shore. Their presence stirred more than nostalgia; it stirred reflection. What might these quiet sentinels still teach us about faith, purpose, and light?

Today, many of these lighthouses have been decommissioned. GPS and modern navigation systems have taken over. Yet their presence still stirs something deep—a sense of guidance, safety, and steadfastness. We remember the keepers who once tended these lights with quiet devotion, braving storms and solitude to ensure the beam never failed. There’s a romance and mystique to their lives—isolated yet purposeful, ordinary yet heroic. Their commitment reminds us that shining light often requires vigilance, sacrifice, and a deep sense of calling.

Jesus tells his followers, “You are the light of the world.” Not you might be, or you could be—but you are. It’s a declaration, not a suggestion. Like a lighthouse built on a hill, our lives are meant to shine with purpose and clarity. This light is Christ’s presence within us—given by grace, sustained through relationship, and meant to be shared.

Unlike the coastal beacons that have been replaced by technology, the light Jesus speaks of is irreplaceable. It’s not powered by electricity or satellites, but by grace. It’s not a tool—it’s a testimony. And it’s still relevant, still needed, still powerful.

This light doesn’t flicker with trends or fade with time. It’s the light of Christ—steady, illuminating, and meant to be seen. And just as lighthouse keepers once stayed vigilant through the night, we too are called to tend the flame of faith with care and constancy. We tend the light through faithful habits—seeking God in prayer, scripture, and acts of love—that shape us over time and keep the flame burning.

To “shine” isn’t about drawing attention to ourselves. It’s about reflecting the light we’ve received. Jesus says we shine by doing good—acts of kindness, justice, mercy, and compassion. Not performative gestures, but genuine expressions of love rooted in God’s transforming work in us.

When we forgive, when we advocate for the vulnerable, when we listen with patience, when we serve without recognition—we shine. And that light points not to us, but to the One who lit the flame in the first place.

Like the lighthouse keepers of old, our calling is not glamorous, but it is sacred. We tend the light so others may find their way—not to our shore, but to God’s.

God of true light, thank you for calling us to shine—not with our own brilliance, but with the light of Christ within us. Help us to live in ways that reflect your love, to do good not for applause, but for your glory. May our lives be like lighthouses—steady, visible, and full of grace—so that others may see and be drawn not to us, but to you. Amen.

Peace & Grace,

Pastor Tim