God Uses the Wisdom of Man

It was a brisk evening in Chicago, 1881. The streets hummed with life, their edges softened by the golden glow of electric lights. The new technology had arrived only recently, but already it was transforming the city. In one neighborhood, beneath a great canvas tent, a crowd gathered, not to marvel at the latest invention but to hear the words of a man who spoke of a different kind of light.

Dwight L. Moody, a broad-shouldered figure with an earnest gaze, stood before them. The people were as diverse as the city itself—factory workers, shopkeepers, immigrants, and children sat shoulder to shoulder on wooden benches. Above them, electric lights cast steady beams across their faces.

Moody stepped forward, holding a simple lantern in one hand. “We’re living in remarkable times,” he began, his voice warm but firm. “Just look at this lantern. For years, it’s been how we light our way. But now, electric lights are changing everything. They shine so brightly, they turn night into day.”

He paused, letting his words settle over the crowd. “But friends, there’s a light far greater than this. A light that doesn’t just guide your feet but transforms your soul.”

The room grew quiet as Moody held up the lantern. “You know, we’re told to let our light shine. And if it does, we won’t need to tell anyone it’s shining. Lighthouses don’t fire cannons to call attention to their shining—they just shine.”

A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. Moody smiled and looked around the room. “You don’t need to be rich to shine. You don’t need to be educated or powerful. God has given each of us a light, and all we need to do is let it shine, right where we are.”

For the weary factory worker in the back row, those words brought a flicker of hope. For the young immigrant mother with a baby on her lap, they brought reassurance. For the businessman near the front, they stirred a longing to do more with the life he’d been given.

Moody looked out over the crowd, his voice softening. “This city is full of lights now—lights on the streets, lights in the buildings. But the brightest lights will always be the ones that come from hearts filled with God’s love. So let your light shine, friends, because this world needs it more than ever.”

As the meeting ended and the crowd began to disperse, the electric lights outside seemed brighter, sharper, and somehow more hopeful. And for those who heard Moody’s words, they carried something greater than the glow of electricity—a resolve to let their light shine, quietly but powerfully, just like a lighthouse

Notes: The death of Herod the Great was 4 B.C.

Herod the Great, who ruled as king from 37 to 4 b.c. He was a figure of heroic proportions, whose rebuilding of the Jerusalem temple represented a major feat of ancient architecture, but whose rule was tyrannical, ruthless, and cruel