Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O LORD of hosts, my King and my God.

   - Psalm 84.3

Would that me also, wretched though I be, yet His poor servant, He might deign so to arouse from the sleep of idleness, so to kindle with that fire of divine love, that the flame of His love, the longing of His so great charity, would mount above the stars, and the divine fire would ever burn within me! Would that I had the tinder to foster, feed, and keep alight that fire unceasingly, and nourish that flame, which knows no quenching and knows all increase!

   - Columbanus, Sermon XII, Irish, 7th century

I dunno, something in me just can’t put together Columbanus (fl. early 7^th cent.) and “the sleep of idleness.”

Here’s a guy, at 50 years of age, a successful scholar and instructor, who decides with 12 companions to go on mission for the Lord and heads out to France (then Gaul). He works every day in the fields with his pals while continuing his life of piety and scholarship. He establishes four monasteries at which thousands – thousands – of young men are trained for the Gospel ministry and the life of martyrdom. He stands up to corrupt kings, lazy priests and bishops, and even the pope himself, for cryin’ out loud.

And he’s crying out to the Lord to light his fire and make it shine a little brighter?

Friend, what hope is there for you and me? If this guy’s idle, we’re dead!

Columbanus lived as a sacrifice for the Lord every day of his adult life. He could always envision himself loving God more, serving God more faithfully, reaching more people with the Gospel. And he considered all he had undertaken and accomplished as merely the kindling for what he yet hoped to achieve.

Columbanus wanted nothing more than that the light of Christ’s love should shine through him and radiate into the lives of every person God put in his path. He wept to think that anything in him might inhibit that great work. He was like a sparrow or a swallow, offered up on the altar of the Lord, and his only regret was that he could not burn longer and more brightly than he did.

Who are your heroes? How do you want to spend your life? Jack Miller used to say, with a nod to Psalm 84.3, “even the bird brains know where they belong.” What do you want your life to count for during the short years God gives you on this earth?

Here’s a challenge: For the next week – no, the next month – each day take up the prayer of Columbanus and make it your own: “Come on, Jesus, light my fire!” Write it down. Pray it out loud. Share it with your friends. Plead with God to light you up like the night sky on July 4.

Wouldn’t you rather burn out than rust out?

Psalm 84.1-4 (Holy Manna: “Brethren, We Have Met for Worship”)
Lord of hosts, how sweet Your dwelling; how my soul longs for Your courts!
Let my soul with joy keep telling of Your grace forever more.
Like a bird upon the altar, let my life to You belong.
Blest are they who never falter as they praise Your grace with song!

Light me up today, O Lord, and let me shine with the beauty and brilliance of Jesus!