As some of you know, we’ve just come back from holiday in Sicily. One of the places we visited was Syracusa, a very ancient city, whose patron saint is St Lucy. There’s a wonderful painting by Caravaggio in one of the central city churches which depicts the burial of St Lucy in the catacombs in Syracusa. We don’t know a great deal about Lucy, except that she was born in 283 AD and martyred at the age of 21 in 304 under the persecution of Diocletian. Caravaggio depicts her as a young, innocent, fragile woman. It seems that very soon after her death she began to be revered as a saint, and this continues today. She’s a very powerful figure.
What could such a young, fragile woman have achieved in her 21 years? What makes her such a powerful figure? We don’t know exactly, except that she must have clashed with the Roman authorities. Perhaps, like many others since, including Meriam, the young Christian woman doctor in Southern Sudan who has just received a death sentence she simply refused to give up her faith. The power of Lucy’s story, or of Meriam’s, is not to do with strength or achievement, but rests on their willingness to be vulnerable, to be used by God for His purposes according to the prompting of His spirit. As Zechariah puts it “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of Hosts” (4:6b)
The first part of the book of the prophecy of Zechariah can be dated to about 520 – 518 BC. This was the time when Jews who had been exiled to Babylon were being allowed to return to their land. Their leader was Zerubbabel, who was in the line of the Davidic kings and was charged with rebuilding the Temple, the centre of the faith for the people of Israel. The vision is intended to be an encouragement to Zerubbabel. It seems that the foundations of the Temple have been laid, but the work is hard. Perhaps there are complaints, and some people may have felt that the new building was going to be too small and would not live up to the glory of the former Temple. God promises Zerubbabel that he will complete the Temple and that those who now “despise the day of small things” will come round and rejoice at its completion.
The main image of the vision, however, is not easy to interpret. Even Zechariah needs an explanation from an angel. And I slightly wish I had a blackboard at this point so that I could attempt to draw it for you. We have to imagine a huge gold oil lamp. It’s like a column with a bowl on top of it. The bowl has seven lamps on it – imagine perhaps something like a punchbowl with glasses held around the sides. Each of these seven lamps has a pinched edge so that seven wicks can be placed around the edge. All of this adds up to an enormous and complex oil lamp. More extraordinary still, however, the oil for the lamp is provided by two olive trees, one either side of it which somehow provide the oil direct.
The oil lamp represents Israel, the people called to be a light to the nations, and the two trees providing oil for the lamp are probably the Davidic King of Israel and the High Priest. The vision seems to be an encouragement for the more distant future as well as relating to the immediate task of rebuilding the Temple.
So how does all of this somewhat obscure and ancient vision relate to us – or even to St Lucy, which was where I started?
As a Christian community we too are called to be light to the world around us. We’re already doing this in many ways. The excellent North London Citizens meeting which some of us attended on Tuesday evening is one an example of this; here we join with others who are seeking to improve life for the more vulnerable people in our Borough. This isn’t an exclusively Christian venture, but I was impressed by how many churches and Christian organisations are involved in it. Our Spring Fair yesterday was also an expression of light, as we gathered together raise funds but also to enjoy being together, to meet new people and to be hospitable to visitors.
For some of us the call to be light, to serve God, leads us to all sorts of activity. There’s a temptation perhaps, and I include myself in this, to work too hard, to rely on our own strengths and abilities and to forget that the work is God’s and that He will prosper our efforts in His own way. Our Psalm this evening reminded us of this. “His delight is not in the strength of the horse nor his pleasure in the speed of a runner, but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love.” (Ps 147: 10 – 11). No one had to work to fill up Zechariah’s oil lamp. It was sustained by the two olive trees – King and High Priest. In His life, death and resurrection, Jesus combines and brings to fulfilment all the attributes of priest, king and sacrifice. His Spirit is freely available to us. He will sustain us and direct our work as long as we rely on Him and not on our own strength.
But we’re not all energetic do-ers – or not all the time. We’re often only too aware of our own frailties and limitations. Like Lucy, who was just a young girl, we may not feel at all powerful. We hope we won’t be called to martyrdom, but we can trust that by His Holy Spirit God can transform whatever we are called to offer to him. The “small things” are not to be despised.
“Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, says the Lord of Hosts”
Amen
18th May 2014
Evensong
The Lamp and the Olive Tree
Diana Young