This time of year, my morning run begins under the cover of a star-filled sky and ends as the sun pokes its head above the eastern horizon. In deference to the diminished visibility in the neighborhood, it’s the time of year to don my light vest – along with a long sleeve shirt and gloves, and those thermal compression pants (we had our first freeze warning earlier this week).
Back to the light vest. The sole purpose of the vest I wear is to be seen. The vest offers little by way of illumination on the path before me, and, besides, starlight, streetlights, and other ambient light provides enough to see what’s ahead. Mostly I want to be seen by our bleary-eyed neighbors as they back out of their driveways and head to work, often disregarding the speed limit and stop signs.
It’s good to be seen on these dark fall mornings.
Jesus had something other than running safety in mind when he taught about letting our light shine before others. During his Sermon on the Mount, he talked about a city on a hill and a lamp on a stand. “In the same way,” he said, “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16. Straight forward enough. Like the LED cables on my light vest, my good works are meant to be seen by others.
If my light vest is designed to keep those bleary-eyed neighbors from running me down on their way to work, my good works are designed to help my neighbors have a run-in with the living God. Which means my good works must point to God and away from me. And what are good works? James offers some examples: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. James 1:27. The list could be much longer, but we get the point.
No virtue signaling in the Kingdom of God. Posting partisan political memes to your social media account doesn’t count as a good work. In fact, Jesus condemns those who pray publicly and piously just to be seen. Likewise, those who donate to a cause in order to be listed in the major donors circle. Indeed, from that same Sermon on the mount, “when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” Matthew 6:3.
When I’m running in the early morning dark with my light vest shining, those bleary-eyed drivers can’t see me, they just see those bands of light moving along and mostly they slow down. When I’m visiting widows and orphans or providing aid to a hurricane victim or helping educate a child, I am not to call attention to myself, but to the God who has loved me, redeemed me, and given me hope. And maybe some bleary-eyed friend will give glory not to me, but to my Father in heaven.