Saturday, December 3—Isaiah 60:1-3
One of my favorite American plays is Tennessee Williams’ The Glass Menagerie. There, the fairly dysfunctional Wingfield family—mother Amanda, grown son Tom, and almost-grown daughter Laura (the father is long-gone, a telephone man who “fell in love with long distances”)—live in a small apartment with a past that has been cruel to them and hope for a better future that seems beyond reach. Southern lady Amanda tries to guide and govern the lives of her children according to an outdated cultural order that has not served her own circumstances well. Intending to impose discipline on Tom’s work habits, she calls him daily to “Rise and shine! Rise and shine!” Her announcement of the new day drives him crazy. (Some readers of this booklet would be offended if I quote just how crazy.) Tom does not want to be told to rise, much less to shine. He seems happy to wallow in the dark of his life, seeking romantic escape in a world of movie adventures beyond his personal ability to act. But eventually Tom does awaken to the world, and he does act, though the play does not suggest that his escape into realism leads to an especially happy end.
The call to “Arise, shine, Jerusalem,” in today’s reading is not an exact type for the scene in Williams’ play, though there are parallels. In Isaiah, the speaker is the Lord, and he is not merely imposing discipline on his children. “Your light has come,” he announces; “the glory has dawned.” And this light and glory shine out of the darkness that covers the earth, the dark night that hovers over the nations. It is a radiance that will attract nations and kings. It does not seem to be merely a calling of Israel out of darkness. Though the Lord’s announcement does carry with it an expectation of attention and hospitality toward those who will be drawn to the light, the people of the holy city are being promised a renewal, a return of day into what has seemed a long night.
Each of us lives partly in darkness, and we are drawn to a promise of light. Perhaps our immediate comfort is interrupted if we are called to “rise and shine,” but offered the Lord’s light coming upon us, the least that we can do is live in that light, welcome others into it, show ourselves grateful for our own sight by hospitality toward others from the darker world.
Doug Watson
