Keep Your Lamps Burning
There is something peculiarly hopeful about a light left on.
A lamp burning in a window at night means that somebody expects somebody. A porch light says that the house has not entirely gone to sleep. A kitchen light seen from a dark road suggests coffee, conversation, perhaps someone waiting for the sound of tires on gravel.
The lamp in today’s Gospel is not burning because its owner has forgotten to switch it off. It burns deliberately.
Someone is coming.
And so perhaps the question for this morning is simpler than we imagine: If Christ knocked today, would He find the light on?
Opening Verse
Lord, open my lips.
And my mouth shall declare thy praise.
Invitatory
Antiphon: Come, let us adore the Lord, the great King who calls us to watch for his coming.
Psalm 94 (95)
Come let us praise the Lord with joy:
let us joyfully sing to God our saviour.
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving;
and make a joyful noise to him with psalms.
For the Lord is a great God,
and a great King above all gods.
For in his hand are all the ends of the earth:
and the heights of the mountains are his.
For the sea is his, and he made it:
and his hands formed the dry land.
Come let us adore and fall down:
and weep before the Lord that made us.
For he is the Lord our God:
and we are the people of his pasture
and the sheep of his hand.
Today if you shall hear his voice,
harden not your hearts:
As in the provocation, according to the day of temptation in the wilderness:
where your fathers tempted me,
they proved me, and saw my works.
Forty years long was I offended with that generation,
and I said: These always err in heart.
And these men have not known my ways:
so I swore in my wrath
that they shall not enter into my rest.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: Come, let us adore the Lord, the great King who calls us to watch for his coming.
Psalmody
Psalm 23 (24)
Antiphon: The man whose hands are innocent and whose heart is clean shall ascend the mountain of the Lord.
The earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof:
the world, and all they that dwell therein.
For he hath founded it upon the seas;
and hath prepared it upon the rivers.
Who shall ascend into the mountain of the Lord:
or who shall stand in his holy place?
The innocent in hands, and clean of heart,
who hath not taken his soul in vain,
nor sworn deceitfully to his neighbour.
He shall receive a blessing from the Lord,
and mercy from God his Saviour.
This is the generation of them that seek him,
of them that seek the face of the God of Jacob.
Lift up your gates, O ye princes,
and be ye lifted up, O eternal gates:
and the King of Glory shall enter in.
Who is this King of Glory?
the Lord who is strong and mighty:
the Lord mighty in battle.
Lift up your gates, O ye princes,
and be ye lifted up, O eternal gates:
and the King of Glory shall enter in.
Who is this King of Glory?
the Lord of hosts,
he is the King of Glory.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: The man whose hands are innocent and whose heart is clean shall ascend the mountain of the Lord.
Canticle — Tobias 13:1–8
Antiphon: Praise the eternal King in all your works.
Thou art great, O Lord, for ever,
and thy kingdom is unto all ages:
For thou scourgest, and thou savest:
thou leadest down to hell, and bringest up again:
and there is none that can escape thy hand.
Give glory to the Lord, ye children of Israel,
and praise him in the sight of the Gentiles:
Because he hath therefore scattered you among the Gentiles,
who know not him,
that you may declare his wonderful works,
And make them know
that there is no other almighty God besides him.
He hath chastised us for our iniquities:
and he will save us for his own mercy.
See then what he hath done with us,
and with fear and trembling give ye glory to him:
And extol the eternal King of worlds
in your works.
As for me, I will praise him
in the land of my captivity:
Because he hath shewn his majesty
toward a sinful nation.
Be converted therefore, ye sinners,
and do justice before God,
Believing that he will shew his mercy to you.
And I and my soul
will rejoice in him.
Bless ye the Lord, all his elect:
keep days of joy,
and give glory to him.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: Praise the eternal King in all your works.
Psalm 32 (33)
Antiphon: The upright of heart shall praise the Lord.
Rejoice in the Lord, O ye just:
praise becometh the upright.
Give praise to the Lord on the harp;
sing to him with the psaltery, the instrument of ten strings.
Sing to him a new canticle,
sing well unto him with a loud noise.
For the word of the Lord is right,
and all his works are done with faithfulness.
He loveth mercy and judgment;
the earth is full of the mercy of the Lord.
By the word of the Lord the heavens were established;
and all the power of them by the spirit of his mouth:
Gathering together the waters of the sea, as in a vessel;
laying up the depths in storehouses.
Let all the earth fear the Lord,
and let all the inhabitants of the world be in awe of him.
For he spoke and they were made:
he commanded and they were created.
The Lord bringeth to nought the counsels of nations;
and he rejecteth the devices of people,
and casteth away the counsels of princes.
But the counsel of the Lord standeth for ever:
the thoughts of his heart to all generations.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord:
the people whom he hath chosen for his inheritance.
The Lord hath looked from heaven:
he hath beheld all the sons of men.
From his habitation which he hath prepared,
he hath looked upon all that dwell on the earth.
He who hath made the hearts of every one of them:
who understandeth all their works.
The king is not saved by a great army:
nor shall the giant be saved by his own great strength.
Vain is the horse for safety:
neither shall he be saved by the abundance of his strength.
Behold the eyes of the Lord are on them that fear him:
and on them that hope in his mercy.
To deliver their souls from death;
and feed them in famine.
Our soul waiteth for the Lord:
for he is our helper and protector.
For in him our heart shall rejoice:
and in his holy name we have trusted.
Let thy mercy, O Lord, be upon us,
as we have hoped in thee.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: The upright of heart shall praise the Lord.
Short Reading
Romans 13:11–14
Knowing the season; that it is now the hour for us to rise from sleep. For now our salvation is nearer than when we believed.
The night is passed, and the day is at hand. Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and put on the armour of light.
Let us walk honestly, as in the day: not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and impurities, not in contention and envy:
But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh in its concupiscences.
Short Responsory
The night is passed, and the day is at hand.
Let us put on the armour of light.
Keep us watchful, O Lord, for thy coming.
Let us put on the armour of light.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.
The night is passed, and the day is at hand. Let us put on the armour of light.
Gospel of the Day
Luke 12:35–38
At that time, Jesus said to his disciples:
Let your loins be girt, and lamps burning in your hands.
And you yourselves like to men who wait for their lord, when he shall return from the wedding; that when he cometh and knocketh, they may open to him immediately.
Blessed are those servants, whom the Lord when he cometh, shall find watching.
Amen I say to you, that he will gird himself, and make them sit down to meat, and passing will minister unto them.
And if he shall come in the second watch, or come in the third watch, and find them so, blessed are those servants.
Benedictus
Antiphon: Blessed are those servants whom the Lord shall find watching when he comes.
Canticle of Zachary — Luke 1:68–79
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel;
because he hath visited and wrought the redemption of his people:
And hath raised up an horn of salvation to us,
in the house of David his servant:
As he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets,
who are from the beginning:
Salvation from our enemies,
and from the hand of all that hate us:
To perform mercy to our fathers,
and to remember his holy testament,
The oath, which he swore to Abraham our father,
that he would grant to us,
That being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
we may serve him without fear,
In holiness and justice before him,
all our days.
And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest:
for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways:
To give knowledge of salvation to his people,
unto the remission of their sins:
Through the bowels of the mercy of our God,
in which the Orient from on high hath visited us:
To enlighten them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death:
to direct our feet into the way of peace.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Antiphon: Blessed are those servants whom the Lord shall find watching when he comes.
Intercessions
Christ calls us from darkness into his wonderful light. With confidence we pray:
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For thy Church throughout the world: preserve her in faith, charity, and joyful expectation, that she may always be ready to welcome her Lord.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For bishops, priests, deacons, religious, missionaries, and all who proclaim the Gospel: give them courage when the night seems long and perseverance when their work appears fruitless.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For those entrusted with the government of nations and communities: teach them to seek peace, defend the weak, administer justice, and remember that all earthly authority is temporary.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For our work today: in offices, workshops, classrooms, kitchens, farms, factories, hospitals, homes, and on the road, make ordinary duties occasions of fidelity.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For our families and friends: guard those near us and those far away, reconcile those divided from one another, and help us never to take for granted the people thou hast placed in our lives.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For those whose night seems especially long—the sick, the lonely, the anxious, the grieving, the unemployed, the imprisoned, and those who have lost hope: let them know that they have not been forgotten.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For those who will die today, especially those who will die alone or unexpectedly: grant them mercy and bring them safely into thy presence.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
For our faithful departed: receive them into that kingdom where no lamp is needed, for Christ himself is their everlasting light.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
And for ourselves: save us from spiritual sleep, from postponing the good, and from imagining that holiness belongs to some more convenient day.
Lord, keep our lamps burning.
Our Father
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation.
But deliver us from evil. Amen.
Concluding Prayer
O God, who hast brought us safely to the beginning of this day, awaken our hearts to thy presence.
Keep us faithful in small duties, charitable toward those whom we meet, patient in difficulty, grateful in prosperity, and watchful in prayer.
May the light thou hast kindled within us not be hidden by carelessness or fear, but burn steadily until Christ comes and finds us ready to receive him.
Through the same Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Blessing
May the Lord bless us,
and keep us from all evil,
and bring us unto everlasting life.
Amen.
The Paradox of the Day
The servant who stays awake for his Master discovers, astonishingly, that the Master has been preparing to serve him.
Chesterton for the Morning
“The way to love anything is to realise that it might be lost.”
— G. K. Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles, “The Advantages of Having One Leg”
A Chestertonian Meditation
The Light in the Kitchen
There are few things more cheerful than finding a light where you did not expect one.
Imagine driving home late through the countryside. Most of the houses have gone black. The barns are shadows. Fields disappear into darkness. Even familiar roads acquire something mysterious at an hour when sensible people are supposed to be asleep.
Then, around a bend, there is a farmhouse with one kitchen window glowing.
It is an absurdly small thing.
It may be nothing more exalted than someone who has forgotten to turn off the light.
But we instinctively give it a story.
Someone is awake.
Someone is expected.
Someone is coming home.
A light in a window is one of civilization’s simplest declarations of hope.
Christ’s image this morning is almost as ordinary:
“Let your loins be girt, and lamps burning in your hands.”
The remarkable thing is that He does not tell the servants when their master will arrive.
This is inconvenient.
We are much better at being ready when we possess a schedule.
Tell us the inspection is Thursday and we can become extraordinarily virtuous on Wednesday afternoon. Tell us guests will arrive at six and at 5:45 a house can undergo a transformation that would astonish an archaeologist. Papers disappear. Dishes vanish. Pillows suddenly stand at attention.
We are creatures of deadlines.
Christ gives His servants no deadline.
The master may come in the second watch.
He may come in the third.
The servants have only one instruction:
Keep the lamp burning.
That changes the whole meaning of readiness.
Christian watchfulness is not a frantic last-minute attempt to make the house presentable before God arrives.
It is a way of living in the house because God might knock at any moment.
And then the Gospel does something wonderfully strange.
The master comes home.
The servants have done their duty. They have remained awake. They are ready. They open the door.
We naturally expect the master to sit down and the servants to begin serving him.
Instead Christ says:
“He will gird himself, and make them sit down to meat, and passing will minister unto them.”
The master serves the servants.
The whole picture turns upside down.
The men who spent the night waiting upon their lord suddenly discover their lord waiting upon them.
This is one of those reversals Christianity seems almost embarrassingly fond of.
The first shall be last.
The poor inherit a kingdom.
The meek inherit the earth.
The man who loses his life finds it.
The King enters Jerusalem on a donkey.
God kneels before fishermen and washes their feet.
And here, in a little parable about lamps and a locked door in the middle of the night, the master comes home and puts on the servant’s apron.
The servant who was watching for God discovers that God was watching for him.
Perhaps this is why wakefulness matters.
Not because God is trying to catch us out.
There is a miserable sort of religion in which God is imagined principally as an inspector arriving unexpectedly from headquarters. The point of vigilance then becomes avoiding embarrassment.
Hide the evidence.
Straighten the furniture.
Look busy.
But that is not the atmosphere of this Gospel.
The person knocking at the door is coming home.
That makes all the difference.
We prepare differently for someone we love.
The mother listening for her son’s car in the driveway is not conducting an inspection.
The husband waiting at an airport is not fulfilling a regulation.
The child looking out the window for grandparents is not practicing risk management.
Love watches.
Love listens.
Love leaves the light on.
And Chesterton’s observation fits here with surprising precision:
“The way to love anything is to realise that it might be lost.”
He was writing about something larger than mere sentimentality. We generally begin to see things properly when we stop assuming that they are guaranteed.
The ordinary world is almost unbearably wonderful once we notice that none of it had to be ours.
The coffee cup.
The old dog.
The kitchen table.
A familiar voice from the next room.
A friend who answers the telephone.
The ability to walk down the stairs.
A morning in October.
The person sitting across from us at breakfast.
We possess these things so casually that we cease to possess them imaginatively.
We have them, and therefore we stop seeing them.
Then something reminds us that they are gifts.
Suddenly the lamp burns brighter.
Christian vigilance is partly the recovery of that sight.
Today is not merely Tuesday.
It is a day that has never existed before and will never exist again.
There will never again be precisely this October morning, this sky, these people, these duties, these opportunities to forgive, to telephone someone, to finish something properly, to say thank you, to notice a tree, to help a stranger, to pray.
That does not make life gloomy.
It makes life luminous.
The man who knows that the feast will not last is the man most capable of tasting the feast.
Chesterton understood this extraordinarily well. Gratitude, for him, was not polite appreciation. It was astonishment at existence.
The astonishing fact is not that something occasionally goes wrong.
The astonishing fact is that there is something here in the first place.
There are trees.
There are stars.
There are children.
There is bread.
There is laughter.
There is October.
There is another morning.
And we have been permitted to see it.
That is why today’s short reading is such a magnificent alarm clock:
“It is now the hour for us to rise from sleep.”
St. Paul is not merely objecting to staying in bed.
There is a deeper sleep.
We can walk around perfectly awake and yet sleep through half our lives.
We sleep through people because we think we already know them.
We sleep through work because we call it routine.
We sleep through prayer because we know the words.
We sleep through the world because we have seen it before.
And then Christianity shakes us by the shoulder.
Wake up.
Look again.
The night is passing.
The day is here.
Keep the lamp burning.
Perhaps that lamp need not be anything spectacular today.
It might simply mean doing one neglected duty well.
It might mean putting down the telephone and actually listening to the person in the room.
It might mean saying a prayer before opening the day’s email.
It might mean calling someone whose name has been quietly occurring to you for several days.
It might mean forgiving an irritation before it has time to become a grievance.
It might mean noticing that the sunrise is particularly good this morning.
We tend to imagine holiness as something dramatic because dramatic things are easier to recognize.
But most lamps are not bonfires.
A lamp is a small, steady thing.
Its great virtue is simply that it remains lit.
And perhaps that is what Christ asks from most of us on most Tuesdays.
Not heroics.
Not religious theatrics.
Not perpetual excitement.
Just a flame.
Faith when faith feels ordinary.
Prayer when prayer feels dry.
Kindness when nobody notices.
Work done honestly.
A promise kept.
A burden carried without making everyone else carry the complaint.
A door opened when someone knocks.
For this is the extraordinary possibility hidden inside every ordinary day:
The knock may come.
Christ may appear in the person who needs five minutes we had intended to spend elsewhere.
He may appear in an interruption.
He may appear in the lonely person.
He may appear in an unexpected duty.
He may appear in the opportunity to apologize.
He may appear in the person we find difficult.
And one day He will come in the final and unmistakable sense.
But Christians practice for that great arrival by learning to recognize all the little arrivals.
The lamp is kept burning one day at a time.
One hour at a time.
Perhaps one small act at a time.
And at the end of the Gospel stands that delightful reversal.
We thought we were preparing a place for Him.
All along, He was preparing a place for us.
We thought we were keeping the lamp burning so that He could find the house.
It turns out He knows exactly where the house is.
The lamp was so that we would recognize Him when He knocked.
So leave a light on today.
Not because the darkness is frightening.
Because Someone is coming home.
For the Day
Keep the lamp burning. Listen for the knock. And do not be surprised if the Lord you were preparing to serve has already prepared a table for you.
Chesterton Radio