In the old days of coal mining in the state of Pennsylvania, a traveler on Sunday morning was making his way through the mining country. He observed that in the fields large numbers of mules were grazing. Asking someone why this should be, he was told that all through the week these animals were kept at work hauling coal deep within the mines. And the word was: "On Sunday they are brought up to the light, lest they go blind."

In a very real way, when you and I worship on Sunday morning, we are coming up to the light. So much, in the workaday world of the passing week, we see things in lights that are dim or colored or distorted, and often we do not see them clearly. We look upon our prospects and circumstances in whatever light falls upon them most immediately at the moment. And usually this is the light of competition and conflict, of material interests, of daily pressures - and we are much in danger of becoming blind to things as they are, to the broad and vari-colored spectrum of reality, to our own life in the full dimension of what it is.

Occasionally, certainly at least once a week, we need to see things in a light that is steady and clear and bright - we need to let the light of the Eternal shine in upon all our concerns and considerations. So here today, out of the shadows, we come up to the light, and pray that tomorrow when we must go into our mines, we will have a clearer sight for the work and walk of another day.