Lent is an especially holy time of the year for me because it is in these six weeks that I find myself drawing closer and closer to Jesus. We know what’s coming. The cross looms ahead. Rather than shake my head in despair, I draw closer to Jesus. It is precisely this time of year that I realize I need something more. My will power is not enough. New year’s resolutions have come and gone. The hum of daily commutes and to do lists have lulled me to a kind of sleep. Winter is not quite ready to release its grasp, Spring has not quite yet arrived. Days are not as dark as they were, but the full sun does not seem to fill the sky. And so, we find ourselves in an in-between place of dusk and shadow.
Lent arrives with the reminder that it is from dust we come and to dust we return. This is the kind of unshakable truth I need to wake me from the daze. There is something dark to this truth, but necessary. For it is in those darkest of places that we realize the true power of light. It is when we seek out these caves and corners of truth that we see that the depth of darkness cannot quench even the smallest spark of light. This is the kind of light I imagine Paul referring to in his letter to the Ephesians. It is not the measure of light that determines its power, but its simple, unrelenting existence. The light does not negate the darkness from whence we came; rather, it draws us out, closer and closer to Jesus.
Maybe the darkness and light are not quite as at war with one another as we like to assume. I often hear the amount of light or dark in reference to a person’s faithfulness. We allow the immensity of darkness to determine the amount of faith we may or may not have. This perspective is harmful because it detracts us from what Paul was actually trying to say. The darkness in and of itself is not The Problem to be solved by the Light of the Lord. Rather Paul is speaking of the fruitless hiding within the darkness, which keeps us imprisoned by fear, not free to live in faith. We think we must have only great faith or great light to banish the darkness of the world, but the wisdom of Jesus tells us again and again that it is in the smallest of these elements that great things are done. It is the faith of a mustard seed that will move mountains. It is the one, wild spark that starts a roaring fire.
One of the treasures of Lent is that it offers us the opportunity to hone in on the interplay of light and darkness. We are anointed with ashes, we stand in the shadow of the cross, we lament, and confess, but we also know the end of the story. Death is not the final answer. True life and light lies around the corner, but we aren’t there yet. We are standing among the long shadows, where truth and lies muddle and merge. It is hard to know what is right until that small, flickering light meets us where we are. It is not blinding or overpowering our ability to see the shadows we stand in, but it does offer just enough light to find the definition of what surrounds us. By this definition, we find hope. A small thing, as small as a spark, but unquenchable. That hope feeds faith. Faith leads us by the wisdom of the Spirit to know what is right and true. We stand in the light and reflect that light to others, no matter how deeply in the shadows they stand.
God, the Creator of the Universe and beyond, celebrates the beauty of both light and dark. It is hard to embrace these dark times of life because they are so often full of pain, but when touched by the light of Jesus, we see them with new eyes. We see the beauty born of pain. We might even go so far as to say we understand the necessity of the dark. Our journey of faith is full of bursts of light and dark, hidden spaces. Jesus meets us in both, exposing truths, healing secrets, and leading us through it all so we may live fully alive, transformed by the promise of Easter resurrection. “Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.”
For Further Inspiration:
- TED TALK [16:51]
“Now we have LED, but here you see the latest one, and you see how incredibly small it is. And this is exactly what offers us a unique opportunity, because this tiny, tiny size allows us to put the light wherever we really need it. And we can actually leave it out where it’s not needed at all and where we can preserve darkness.” Lighting architect Rogier van der Heide, Why the Light Needs the Darkness
“Ask some of the survivors of the civil rights movement, as I have — survivors who sang these songs for protection and for courage — why ‘This Little Light of Mine’ survives and is still sung in the #MeToo movement and women’s movement,” he says. “They look at me straight in the eye and they say, ‘It is because those songs are anointed.’ As an academic, I have no way to refute that. Nor do I want to.” From ‘This Little Light Of Mine’ Shines On, A Timeless Tool Of Resistance, NPR
- SONG [3:54]
“The greatest risk we’ll ever take is by far to stand in the light and be seen as we are.”
Stand in the Light by Jordan Smith