Dim The Lights Please

There’s a lamp in my living room that my brother gave my wife and I when we got married. It’s nice - A heavy thing that the kids haven’t managed to knock off the cabinet yet. But there has been a silent war going on, and this lamp is the battlefield. Whenever I go to turn it on, I turn the lampshade just a bit to get at the switch. This makes the seam in the shade turn outwards to face the rest of the room. My wife will then turn the shade later when she notices this. So, back and forth, this has been going on for years now. It’s never mentioned, but my sense of practicality is rubbing up against my wife’s uncanny knack for interior design. The war of the lamp may not end this side of heaven. Unless of course all this turning causes the thing to eventually just snap off.

So, this gets me thinking about light. I want the light to be turned on easily. My wife wants the light to look right. Philosophically, both are important. If there is a way to see, it should be something accessible. Also, if there is a source of light, it should be presented in the best way possible. The light should be on, and it should shine well, without distraction.

Jesus walked into a dark temple, during the feast of booths, and said “I am the light of the world.” Traditionally they put out the lights during this festival and He used the opportunity to contrast that darkness with himself. John says that “in him is no darkness at all.” This is the same one of whom Paul writes, “he dwells in light unapproachable.” Christ brings clarity to grace and truth, the very things this world can even appreciate to a certain degree without him. Sometimes I think that it’s just a matter of flicking a switch and having Jesus presented that will win people over to him. It doesn’t in fact play out that way very often. He seems to mystify people quite a bit. I’ve been thinking more lately, thanks to my wife’s side of the lamp-war, about the way he should be presented.

Light is a funny thing. C.S. Lewis wrote a short story about a man born blind who received his sight through surgery. This man had a fascination with light. He wanted to be able to see it, but could only see the things the light allowed him to see. It’s a tragic story, ending with this man diving into a gorge filled with luminescent fog. This seems to have some bearing on the Lord Jesus, as we consider him, “the light of the world.” He brings light to the sin and darkness here and exposes it. At his death, we see the conspiracy of both religion and government, the betrayal and the fair-weather friendships we are all so prone to, the violence man is capable of, and our propensity to wash our hands of a thing and hang someone out to dry. Jesus exposed sin so clearly and yet he is still so misunderstood.

Christ is like that dangerous sun, able to blind you if you stare too long. What is the danger? He is the radiance of the glory of God the Father, the express image of His person – Holy, Perfect, Right. These flawed eyes can’t take him in. But one thing about the sun - you CAN see it set, and rise again. That’s where these eyes find Jesus. He had a blinding effect on those that tried to take him in full strength. But for those who see him crucified and rising from the tomb, he fills their vision. That’s how I now present him. I don’t just preach Jesus, I preach Christ crucified. I read that Billy Graham once spoke about Jesus without mentioning the cross, and not one person responded. He vowed to never do that again.

Light isn’t to be hidden under a bowl, but shining it directly into people eyes doesn’t help either. Present Jesus the way the Word presents him: setting and rising like the sun. There’s a reason why Jews start their day in the evening. Dark came first, and then light - death, then resurrection.

BJ