Sabbath Meditation

A City upon a Hill

You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. . . . Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.
Matthew 5: 14,16

It is clear that the Kingdom of God is not to be a secret society, known only to initiates who have been taught the secret codes. It is clear from these words of our Lord that the the Church and the broader Kingdom are to be seen and its existence to an extent known by all men.

In the first place, the Church—God's people—is, and are, the light of the world. It is intriguing that this is not an imperative or command—as in, “You ought to be, or must be, the light of the world.” Rather it is a proposition. The Church is the light of the world. Whether we like it or not that is who we are; that is what the Lord has constituted us to be.

Moreover, the Church is not one light amongst many. It is the light of the world. The world has no other light. It is a dark place. That is not to say, of course, that the world does not have many claimants to be light—but they are all false. God has given one, and one only light to the people of the world. It is the Church of the Living God. Now here is the thing: the more dark the world becomes: the more depraved, destructive, dissected and dessicated, the brighter the light shines. The contrast between the people of God and the people of the world becomes more clear. The light becomes more attractive as the alternatives becomes unspeakable.

The Church, then, is to be public and evident—just like a city set on a great hill cannot be hidden. God intends then that His Church will be increasingly visible and evident and known in the world.

But with this comes a temptation for those who are spiritually immature and still children. Many falsely reason that since the Church is to be public, it is our duty to get noticed. Therefore, many spend much of their lives and wealth “marketing” to the world, trying to get the world to change its mind about the Church and God, trying to cast the Church in a more positive light, trying to do an image-makeover.

But our Lord neither commands nor commends such efforts. The shining of the light before the world is to be in terms of our good works (verse 16)—by which the Scripture means righteous living. This simply means that we are to live as the new creation of God, the people of the realm of Resurrection, conforming our lives to the life of God in Christ whilst still in the world. Simply put, this means seeking to live our lives as if sin had never entered the world.

So, it means living according to the fruit of the Spirit (love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, etc) in our relations within our families, neighbours, fellow believers, and all men as we have opportunity. It means living richly generous lives. It means working hard, being prudent stewards. It means denial of self for the sake of the future of others. It means being godly, Spirit filled, grace giving parents—and children. It means being part of a public worshiping community where there is no rich or poor, slave or free—in the sense that these things do not matter and do not cause divisions or separation—joyfully together in the presence of the Lord.

It does not mean trying to curry favour with the world, doing things which the world will approve or with which it is likely to be impressed. The whole point of living as the new creation amidst a dying world is that who we are, what we do, and how we do it will be inevitably radically different from what is done in a gangrenous, necrotic world. The whole point of being a new creation is that we could not care less what the old creation thinks. It is, after all, the old creation, afflicted with sin and death. The whole orientation of our lives is to cry out, in effect, to the world, “Come out from among them and be ye separate . . .” That is the call of redemption to those still in the world. They have to change camps. The call of the Church is not to show the world that we are just like them. Our cry to the world is not “Make room for us, we are coming over.” yet that is how many foolish children think, even to this day.

But, then, the question is begged—since the world hates God and His people, how will they ever come out and over, if we do not make ourselves more acceptable to them? After all, sugar attracts more flies than vinegar, they say. They will come out and over when their lives in the world become troubling and hateful to them. This is when the light of the City of God shines most brightly.

It is those who are yet in the world and who have begun to be troubled by it, who have been made to be afflicted with a deep sense of unease and dissatisfaction with themselves and their lives—it is these who are motivated to lift up their eyes to see the city on a great hill and think, “It's got to be better up there.”

When people taste the fruits of unrighteousness and find them bitter, the Church, which is the light of the world, appears most bright and beautiful to them.