Sitting in darkness

But God’s light breaks in

Luke 1:68-79 Zechariah’s song:

Praise the Lord, the God of Israel, because he has visited and redeemed his people.

He has sent us a mighty Savior from the royal line of his servant David,

Just as he promised through his holy prophets long ago. …

So we can serve God without fear, in holiness and righteousness

For as long as we live. …

Because of God’s tender mercy,

The morning light from heaven is about to break upon us,

To give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,

And to guide us to the path of peace.

Do you, too, “sit in darkness”? How would you describe that darkness: anxiety and worry, fears for the future, stuckness over wounds in the past and harmful habits in the present? Do you, too, long for guidance to a path of peace?

Shutterstock: Vlue

Last week the prophet Zechariah from the Old Testament spoke to us about a Day of the Lord bringing life-giving waters to our parched souls. Five hundred years later, the Holy Spirit prophesied through another Zechariah, a priest, father of John the Baptist (Luke 1:67), this time about the gift of light breaking through our darkness.

Three months before Zechariah gave this prophecy, the angel Gabriel informed Mary, newly pregnant with Jesus, that another miraculous pregnancy had taken place: her barren elderly relative Elizabeth, Zechariah’s wife, also expected a baby!

Mary hurried to visit Elizabeth, who by the Spirit recognized the baby growing in Mary’s womb as her Lord. “You are blessed because you believed,” Elizabeth told Mary, in contrast to her husband, who had spent the last six months unable to speak because of his early, shocked disbelief in Gabriel’s message to him. Mary responded with a song of praise we call the Magnificat. We’ll look at this song next week.

After his son John was born, Zechariah prophesied that his child would prepare the way for the Lord, a mighty Savior who would provide salvation and forgiveness of sins to his people. Quoting Malachi and Isaiah, Zechariah foretold Mary’s baby’s birth as light from heaven about to break upon them, offered to the dark world through the tender mercies of God.

Two surprise visits from the angel Gabriel. Two miraculous pregnancies. Two sons. Four celebratory songs. A host of angels. Multiple shepherds. Two elderly witnesses. The fulfillment of ancient covenants and prophecies.

Luke compressed unspeakable wonder into the first two chapters of his Gospel. No wonder Mary needed to take a step back and ponder all that had broken into her heretofore unremarkable experience (Luke 2:19).

Advent offers us space to do the same: to consider the marvels of her baby’s first coming and what they mean to us. To open our hearts in hope of receiving the Spirit’s tender mercies. To welcome his light into our darkness. To deepen our hope as we anticipate his return in glory. And to find the path to the Prince of peace.

Shine Jesus Shine, Graham Kendrick

Advent 2, Peace: in the in-between times

But Jesus’ life can never be destroyed

Hebrews 7:2, 16-17 The name Melchizedek means “king of justice,” and king of Salem means “king of peace.” … Jesus became a priest by the power of a life that cannot be destroyed. And the psalmist [Psalm 110:4] pointed this out when he prophesied, “You are a priest forever in the order of Melchizedek.”

Luke 2:28, 32 Simeon took the baby Jesus in his arms and praised God, saying: … “He is a light to reveal God to the nations.”

Image by my friend Carol Amidi: https://www.carolamidi.net/

Justice?

Peace?

Jesus embracing both, revealing God to the nations?

Where is God in all that’s going on around us? What is he doing? What is his bigger plan?

How can we live from a center of peace, especially when there is chaos and calamity every day in the news and sometimes around us and maybe even in our own lived or family experience?

I would love to know your response to this question. Please take a minute to respond. I’m pondering this question this Advent whenever my mind isn’t occupied by other things. I’d love to profit from your input!

Meanwhile, here’s the link again to the Advent ABC playlist.

Be a window

But God shines his light through us

Matthew 5:16 Let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.

Hebrews 13:21 May the God of peace equip you with all you need for doing his will. May he produce in you, through the power of Jesus Christ, every good thing that is pleasing to him.

Last year, our church sent to be cleaned several of the stained-glass windows of our historic building. The difference is stunning, to the point that I’m sometimes distracted from the service by the play of colored light on the huge painting of Jesus’ ascension above the altar. I find this enriching, because I know what those windows convey of the Gospel story.

Cleaning of one of the smaller Ascension windows: photo Marilyn Chislaghi

I know too the passion and prayer of the church to not only receive light through its beautiful windows, but to reflect light into its cosmopolitan neighborhood of Oakland, which attracts people from around the world through its universities and medical center (including us from our beloved Brazil!).

Hence my appreciation of George Herbert’s poem “The Window,” which I’m connecting to chapter 3, “God Most Good,” in the book In His Image I’ve been referencing. Jen Wilkins says “Be good. Others will see it. You’ll be a light causing others to glorify the Father of lights.” Here’s the poem:

The Windows

Lord, how can man preach thy eternal word?

He is a brittle crazy glass;

Yet in thy temple thou dost him afford

This glorious and transcendent place,

To be a window, through thy grace.

But when thou dost anneal in glass thy story,

Making thy life to shine within

The holy preachers, then the light and glory

More reverend grows, and more doth win;

Which else shows waterish, bleak, and thin.

Doctrine and life, colors and light, in one

When they combine and mingle, bring

A strong regard and awe; but speech alone

Doth vanish like a flaring thing,

And in the ear, not conscience, ring.

George Herbert, 1593-1633

How clean is the beautiful window of my redeemed life?

What color calls to you today?

But Jesus is trustworthy Feb 12, 2024

John 12:34-36, 44-46 [The crowd asked] “Just who is this Son of Man anyway?” Jesus replied, “My light will shine for you just a little longer. Walk in the light while you can, so the darkness will not overtake you. … Put your trust in the light while there is still time; then you will become children of the light. … I have come as a light to shine in this dark world, so that all who put their trust in me will no longer remain in the dark.”

“Walk in the light … Put your trust in the light.”

Early this morning I dropped my car off for servicing. As I walked down one of Pittsburgh’s famous block-long public staircases and on downhill to a bagel shop to wait for our mechanic’s call, thinking about this week and about this text from John 12, I found my mind swirling with color.

It started Friday in my granddaughter Juliana’s bedroom when sunshine suddenly broke through the winter gloom to fill the room with rainbows refracted through the prisms her mom hung in her windows. Juju was as delighted as by bubbles dancing in the sunshine a few weeks ago.

Shutterstock: MarcelClemens

Then came a marvelous Saturday women’s retreat, where the colors contained in the Light, representing the variegated wisdom God shares with us, splashed across the tables, the walls, and even the tableware, and showed up in our “color prayers” at the close of the retreat. So richly God’s wisdom enriched our souls at this retreat!

Then yesterday, to help celebrate our son-in-law Cesar’s birthday, I wore red, his favorite color. It turned out this worked also for cheering for the KC Chiefs. Yes, KC, because I lived there during high school and had my first experience of a super bowl as the Chiefs won in 1970. The only way I could understand the hysteria at the time was comparing it with a country winning the soccer World Cup.

Red, of course, will work Wednesday as well, as North America celebrates Valentine’s Day.

Then on Friday comes my granddaughter Talita’s fourth birthday. She’s chosen a mermaid theme for her party Sunday afternoon, so iridescent purples, pinks, greens, and blues join the mix of colors in my head.

And in the middle of all this comes Ash Wednesday, the end of Epiphany and the beginning of Lent. What color is Ash Wednesday? Grey, I guess, because of the ashes, although Google tells me it’s violet or unbleached linen, and the color of Lent is purple.

What’s my takeaway from this rich palette filling my imagination? Jesus not only created light, he is light. Every color is contained within him and expressed through us, his Body. How boring it would be if we were all—pick a color—all red, or all blue, or all yellow. God painted his world with color, gave us each different personalities, gifts, interests, passions, griefs, and joys. He delights in each one of us.

One of the joys of Saturday’s retreat was the fun of spending hours together with friends, old and new. Google tells me the color of friendship is orange. I’m carrying that into this week, wanting to share the rich hues of salmon, and peach, and coral with the friends whose lives intersect with mine this week.

What about you? Which color speaks to you today?

Thursday I’ll offer you a challenge for Lent. Spoiler: it too involves color!

By the way, EA Books surprised me by publishing Book 3 of the Cally and Charlie series, Facing the Faeries 1906, sooner than I expected. It’s now available on Amazon in paper and as an ebook. Enjoy! And if you do, please write a review to help others find the book. Of course, you’ll enjoy Book 3 more if you read, or reread (and review!), Books 1 and 2 first.

I Want to Walk as a Child of the Light, by Kathleen Thomerson

And in an entirely different style, Walk With Jesus, Consumed by Fire

Photosynthesis

But Jesus’ light leads to life

John 8:12, 9:5 I am the light of the world. If you follow me, you won’t have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life. … While I am here in the world, I am the light of the world.

It happens all around us and fuels our lungs and muscles. Photosynthesis is the process by which plants and trees use sunlight, water, and carbon dioxide to create oxygen and energy. Light generates life!

I could so easily get off on the (mostly illegal) destruction of the rain forest, but I’ll spare you the soapbox (except to say one thing: the more beef we eat, the faster the Amazon Forest will be cut down for pasturing methane-belching cows, top of the food chain and doubly injurious to our planet’s health).

Shutterstock: GraphicsRF.com

Though a description of photosynthesis wasn’t published until 1779, Jesus the Creator, of course, understood it perfectly. As he so often did, he used nature to express spiritual truth. Light is life.

Speaking in the Temple in Jerusalem on the last day of the week-long fall harvest Festival of Sukkot, or Tabernacles, or Booths, or Shelters, Jesus promised living water, another necessary element for life (John 7:37-39)—probably in connection with the daily Sukkot water ceremony, when the priest poured out collected rainwater from the previous season.

And then, sixteen gold bowls in the inner courts of the Temple were filled with oil and lighted. Likely, Jesus stood beneath these lights to declare that he was the Light of the world (John 8:12). The light at the center of Temple worship—but more. Light that could leave the Temple and walk into the world, confronting the darkness found there. Like falsehood, and slavery, and unbelief, and wrong judgment. Some people were so angry they wanted to kill Jesus.

And the intrigue—or offense—intensifies when Jesus repeats the claim of being the light of the world (John 9:5) when on the Sabbath, he heals a man born blind. The intricate interplay of light and darkness in this chapter, of who can see and who can’t, of what is sin and who commits it, challenges all assumptions and the very order and fabric of society.

The man formerly blind who for the very first time can see—imagine!—has the gall to say, “Ever since the world began, no one has been able to open the eyes of someone born blind. If this man were not from God, he couldn’t have done it.” He was thrown out of the synagogue, as people often are who dare to speak truth (Liz Cheney comes to mind). Jesus, who had given the man physical sight, found him and gave him spiritual vision as well.

“If you were blind, you wouldn’t be guilty,” Jesus told the angry leaders. “But you remain guilty because you claim you can see” (John 9:41). In chapter 8, he called people liars. He clearly hadn’t read up on social etiquette. So cringey for this Enneagram 9 who hates conflict and upset apple carts.

Will you and I welcome Jesus’ light shine into the dark corners of our hearts, confronting our sin, healing our blindness, synthesizing new life in us?

Hide and seek

Hide and seek

But God’s work is revealed in his light

John 3:19-21 God’s light came into the world, but people loved the darkness more than the light, for their actions were evil. All who do evil hate the light and refuse to go near it for fear their sins will be exposed. But those who do what is right come to the light so others can see God at work in what they are doing.

I just spent a weekend with my grandchildren. They love, love, love playing hide and seek, from the baby to the six-year-old. The two three-year-olds can’t bear for long the tension of being hidden: “Here I am! I’m here!” The six-year-old can wait a long time in his increasingly inventive hiding places.

Shutterstock: A3pfamily

In the course of their play, this six-year-old knocked his sister to the ground. Immediately he said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” and rushed to help her get up. I noticed, though, that minutes after she was happily off chasing her cousin, my grandson stood in place, tears pooling in his eyes. When I asked him what was wrong, the tears overflowed.

“I didn’t want to hurt Talita,” he sobbed. “I did something bad.”

I had a choice: Try to convince him that accidents happen and not to worry about it; Talita was fine. Or honor his sense of wrongdoing. “Sweetheart,” I said, “there’s something we can do when we’ve done wrong.”

“What?” he asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“We can tell God what we did and ask him to forgive us. When we do that, he promises to make our hearts clean. Would you like to do that?”

After doing so, he stood for a moment looking at the floor, then gave me a brilliant smile and ran to find his sister and cousins.

And I had the joy of seeing God at work, lifting my grandson’s distress from his shoulders.

You and I have the same opportunity: to bring our wrongdoing to the light so we can receive forgiveness and restoration of our joy and freedom. Often this requires restitution as well for the way we have hurt someone.

We may think we’re protecting ourselves when we hide our sin, but in fact we’re internalizing the harm we did, thus dimming our internal light, making it harder to see our own hearts clearly. We need the Holy Spirit to shine his light, to seek and find and deal with what is hurting us inside.

If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. But if we confess our sins to God, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness (1 John1:8-9).

Hope or dystopia?

But Jesus’ light can’t be extinguished by darkness

John 1:1-18 In the beginning the Word already existed. … The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. … So the Word became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son. … Jesus Christ has revealed God to us.

I’ve missed you! And I’ve enjoyed focusing on other things, like vacation. And the details of publishing Facing the Faeries 1906.

I’m returning to this blog halfway through the season of Epiphany, which ends with the beginning of Lent on February 14. The readings for this season have included the Gospel of John, with his emphasis on Christ as the Light of the world.

Epiphany began on January 6, the day selected by early church fathers to remember the magi visiting baby Jesus in Bethlehem and bringing him gifts. The magi were not Jewish, hence the connection with Jesus bringing light to the world, not just to the people God chose to be his earthly family and lineage. The wise men illustrate for us the fulfillment of God’s promise to Abraham that through him and his descendants, all the earth would be blessed (Genesis 22:18).

Returning to twice weekly postings on this blog, I have four opportunities to think about John’s view of Jesus as the Light of the world before we enter Lent. It seems John can hardly wait to get into this theme. As one of Jesus’ disciples, walking with him for at least three years, John was well positioned to tell us what he personally saw and experienced of what he calls Jesus’ glory, the divine light of unfailing love and faithfulness shining through him.

John was no pushover. Jesus called him and his brother James “Sons of Thunder” (Mark 3:17). They wanted to call fire from heaven to burn up a Samaritan village that didn’t accept Jesus (Luke 9:52-54). Yet in John’s writings (he’s the most prolific New Testament writer after Paul), his emphasis is on love. His life was transformed by the light of Jesus shining into his personal darkness, gentling him and dramatically changing his perspective on the “others” in his world.

For us, you and me, grappling daily with the darkness, violence, and brokenness of the world, John’s introduction to his Gospel is tremendously encouraging. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” Think about that. Isn’t it good news, solid rock on which to place our feet, a promise we can count on no matter how dark things get? We don’t see it yet, but the ending of the story will be glorious!

Tucked inside my fortune cookie! Isn’t that cool?

Thinking about this promise, I feel my anxiety for the world dissipate like air leaking from a balloon. My thoughts turn to my small role in shining his light into the darkness around me, beginning in my own heart. What a relief to know I’m just a minor character in this huge story God is writing. He has the whole thing figured out! Hallelujah!

Amy Grant celebrates this: Lighten my darkness …

And have you been enjoying the Advent ABC playlist? It still brings me to tears.

Speaking of stories, watch this space for an announcement about Facing the Faeries 1906!

Don’t copy

But God expects US to be light

Isaiah 49:3-4, 6The Lord said to me, “You are my servant, and you will bring me glory.” I [Isaiah] replied, “But my work seems so useless! I have spent my strength for nothing and to no purpose. Yet I leave it all in the Lord’s hand; I will trust God for my reward.” … And now God says, “I will make you a light to the Gentiles, and you will bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.”

Matthew 5:14-16 [Jesus said] “You are the light of the world … Let your good deeds shine out for all to see, so that everyone will praise your heavenly Father.”

Philippians 2:14-16 Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that no one can criticize you. Live clean, innocent lives as children of God, shining like bright lights in a world full of crooked and perverse people, holding firmly to the word of life.

My just-turned-one granddaughter Juliana watches and tries to imitate everything her older sister Liliana does. The second Lili chooses a toy, that’s the one Juju wants. Yesterday Lili climbed into an empty box pretending it was a train car. Of course, Juju immediately had to climb in too, though she had ignored the box until that moment.

It made me think, “Who am I trying to copy? Who sets the standard of behavior for me?”

A confession:

I sometimes get angry and complain about people who don’t know God because they behave like they don’t know God.

How nonsensical is that?

Another confession:

I sometimes feel outrage at people who claim the name of Christ yet speak and live as if they don’t know God’s love and have never taken seriously Jesus’s command to show that love to the world.

But do I look and act any different from the people I judge?

The Lord calls me back, with words like James 1:19-21 and 26, Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. “Human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires … If you claim to be religious but don’t control your tongue, you are fooling yourself, and your religion is worthless.”

The conversation between God and Isaiah in chapter 49 is one you, like me, have probably had with God at times of discouragement. But the dialogue becomes more interesting as we continue reading, because it seems God is not talking just to Isaiah, but more profoundly, with his own son, Jesus, the true light to the Gentiles. After all, Simeon prophesied over the infant Jesus, “He is a light to reveal God to the nations” (Luke 2:32).

That’s NOT how Paul and Barnabas interpreted Isaiah 49:6, however! In Acts 13:46-47, they tell a crowd in Antioch of Pisidia, “We will offer the word of God to the Gentiles. For the Lord gave us this command when he said, ‘I have made you a light to the Gentiles, to bring salvation to the farthest corners of the earth.’”

So, it’s a partnership, right? Because it’s the light of Jesus shining in our hearts that we are to reflect to others (2 Corinthians 4:5-7).

Today I’m asking myself, how am I personally doing with being a light and revealing God? If this question doesn’t humble me, nothing will. I invite you, as I am doing today, to read and pray carefully through Romans 12. I think it’s a great description of what living differently looks like.

I’m asking the Lord to shine his light into my soul to reveal my shortcomings, convict me of my need for him, root out my self-righteousness, and fill me with his compassion. I want to imitate the Lord. I want him to be my model. And I want to notice and learn from the ways people in my life reflect his light according to the standards of Romans 12.

Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you … (Romans 12:2)

To despair–and back

But the King is the Lamb

John 1:29 The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!”

Ephesians 4:10 And the same one who descended is the one who ascended higher than all the heavens, so that he might fill the entire universe with himself.

Since I sat down to write, the silhouette of a giant blue spruce has slowly emerged against the lightening sky through my kitchen window. I knew the tree was there, but I couldn’t see it until light eased in around it. Over the last few minutes, though I still don’t see color, details of contour and depth are becoming clearer.

This day, Saturday, Sabbath day for Jesus’s mother Mary and the others who gathered around his cross, was a day of darkness and grief, of shock and despair, a day of blind belief that the Light of their lives had been cruelly extinguished. If you’ve lost someone close to you, you have the shadow of understanding of what they might have been experiencing.

Did any of them, that Saturday, remember Jesus telling them he would rise again on the third day? Matthew and Luke record Jesus telling them repeatedly this would be the case. From their initial disbelief the next day, it seems they did not remember. They apparently didn’t have even this amount of light shining into their darkness, increasingly illuminating the true nature of His sacrifice, as I can now see individual branches of the spruce.

John the Evangelist tells us his xará John the Baptist (Brazilians affectionately call a person with the same name or birthday their xará) “was not the light; he was simply a witness to tell about the light,” (v. 8), the true light (v. 9), who reveals God the Father to us (v. 18). By the time the Evangelist cites John the Baptist as recognizing Jesus as the Lamb of God, the Chosen One (v. 34), he has already described Jesus as the eternal Word, the world-Creator, the Life-giver, the unextinguishable Light, the status- and family-sharer (v. 12), the enabler of new beginnings (v. 13), the ultimate boundary-crosser and cultural contextualizer, full of unfailing love and faithfulness (or grace and truth, depending on your translation, v. 14 and 17), the revealed glorious only Son (the rest of God’s children are adopted), the one who is “far greater” (v. 15), the unstinting Giver of one blessing after another, the unique One who is himself God, near to the Father’s heart.

It will take us the rest of our lives to absorb all this. We won’t see all the shades and details clearly until the full light of the Father’s glory shines on Jesus, when we’re with him face to face. Don’t you feel a bit jealous of those who are already there?

And then John the Baptist brings us back to earth with a thump. Jesus is the Lamb of God. My emotional reaction is similar to what I feel reading John the Evangelist’s description in Revelation 5: And I saw a strong angel, who shouted with a loud voice: “Who is worthy to break the seals on this scroll and open it? But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was able to open the scroll and read it. Then I began to weep bitterly because no one was found worthy to open the scroll and read it. But one of the twenty-four elders said to me, “Stop weeping! Look, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the heir to David’s throne, has won the victory! He is worthy to open the scroll and its seven seals.”

From bitter weeping to the thrill of victory! But then the twist: Then I saw a Lamb that looked as if it had been slaughtered.

No! No! No! How can you kill the king, the eternal one, the creator, the life-giver?

I want to linger in the glory. But John (both Johns) drive us forward, force us to our knees, back to tears, our faces on the ground. The Lion becomes the lamb, the sin of the world is my sin, the gracious, loving, faithful Truth-teller reveals to me more than I can bear. And so he bears it for me, both the hard truth and its inevitable consequence.

Do I really want the light? John asks. Because to live in light requires practicing truth. It requires confessing my sins and my need for his cleansing, the cleansing only possible because Jesus the King, the one who is life itself, became the Lamb of God, offering his life in my place (1 John 1:1-9).

Come. See.

Behold the beauty of the Lamb. The glorious one whom death could not defeat.

Words of hope

But God’s light breaks through our darkness July 28, 2022

2 Peter 1:19-20 You must pay close attention to what the prophets wrote, for their words are like a lamp shining in a dark place—until the Day dawns and Christ the Morning Star shines in your hearts. … Those prophets were moved by the Holy Spirit, and they spoke from God.

Have you ever been in a dark place, and found that words of Scripture were like a light, bringing you hope? I would love for you to share that experience with But God readers, to encourage us.

I heard Elise Massa and Andy Clark’s new song, “O Gracious Light” just in time for this post. Elise and Andy collaborated at a Resound Worship Songwriters Retreat in Yorkshire, England a couple of weeks ago. If you’re a worship artist, check out United Adoration!

One such experience: Karis was in the ICU for 75 days straight in 2004-2005, not expected to live. That space became claustrophobic for me.

One morning I read Psalm 118 in the NIV. When I reached verse 5, the light went on: When hard pressed, I cried to the Lord; he brought me into a spacious place. “Oh Lord!” I prayed. “Please, please do this for me.” And he did. He allowed the walls of that high pressure place to recede. He filled the space with light and gave lightness to my spirit. I often remembered as I re-entered the ICU C.S. Lewis’s phrase about the stable in The Last Battle, that it was bigger inside than it was outside.

The NLT renders Psalm 118:5 like this: In my distress I prayed to the Lord, and the Lord answered me and set me free. In what way or ways has the Lord set you free? Please tell us!!

I, Jesus, am the bright morning star (Revelation 22:16).