A Reflection for the Monday of the Fifth Week of Lent
Today, we hear Jesus’s famous words, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” While I’ve heard these words countless times, I got a unique insight into what “light of life” really means when I brought home my pothos clipping over Christmas break. I named my pothos clipping, Green. Green, nestled comfortably in his Mason jar, required literally nothing but good sunlight to flourish. When he was situated in my dorm room, with a beautiful view of the Berkeley North Courtyard, he grew at an impressive rate. But, the second I brought him home to New Jersey, Green lost his namesake and his suddenly wilting leaves started turning brown.
Horrified (and embarrassed at my failure to take care of what may be the most self-sufficient plant), I ushered Green to different windows in my house, each proving to be a worse position to catch sunlight than the last. At first, I thought his water was getting too cold from the drafts seeping through the window frames. Even with a homemade sweater, though, the only growing Green was doing was growing brown. After several worried weeks, I felt a wave of relief when, once more sitting on my dresser in New Haven, Green made a speedy recovery. He returned to his previous health almost immediately and even surpassed it, finally looking full of life. The turning point? Direct sunlight. Plants like Green make the necessity of light so obvious.
Even though humans don’t photosynthesize, I think we come pretty close—just think of Cross Campus a few weeks ago on the first warm day of the year. There wasn’t a spare foot of grass to be found with so many students spending time outside soaking up the sun. There’s a reason why one of the activity assignments during a Psychology and the Good Life class period aimed at increasing Subjective Well-Being was “Take a long walk outside.” Psychological research has proven that sunlight increases the release of serotonin, boosting our mood.
Just like sunlight works wonders on our mental and physical health, Christ’s light is a crucial aspect of our spiritual health, which in turn affects our entire being. We don’t just like his light, we need his light. Where do we find it?
For me, I see the light of Christ reflected in people in my life. Maybe not always as literally as friends surprising me outside of my COVID isolation gate blasting “Christ Be My Light” through a speaker. I also see it in small moments like an exchange of smiles while walking into the library or an encouraging text before an exam.
It’s the same light we read about in today’s first reading that shone through Susanna who, when falsely accused of adultery, showed us what it means to boldly act rooted in faith, as “Through tears she looked up to Heaven, for she trusted in the Lord wholeheartedly.” It’s the same light of Jesus that accompanies us from where we come from and where we are going, illuminating the way.
Although it may seem like we can tolerate the dark much better than Green can, that does not mean it is where we are meant to dwell. In these last couple of weeks until Easter (a celebration of the Light that saves us), I invite you to let Christ wrap you in his light. Feel his warmth, let it permeate the darkest parts of your heart, and watch it reflect off of you into the world. It was what we were created for.
