The darkness seems absolute. Men before us have forgotten that it hides the morning star.  Irwin Edman, Professor of Philosophy

In the home we built four years ago, our study faces due east toward the southern end of the Mayacamas Mountains, an ancient volcanic range that runs along the eastern edge of our beautiful county. Now, in the darkness of early morning, I sit facing east and watch Venus rise, chasing a waning gibbous moon. A small stand of enormous redwoods in our neighbors’ yard is deepest black against the dark. Lights of homes bead the distant slopes, Soon, from a pale wash of faintest light, the hills begin to emerge. The sun, which has since June been moving slowly but inexorably south toward its solstice, begins the work of day. To witness this rising—this gentle, powerful, primordial dispelling of the darkness—will never grow old.

Let there be light.

Recently I came across these words of contemplation by English theologian, Alfred Plummer::

Light was the first product of the Divine creative energy, the condition of order, beauty, life, growth and joy. Of all phenomena it best represents the elements of all perfection.

It is referred to thirteen times in the first chapter of Genesis. And God saw that it was good.

Perhaps because the times seem to be surrendering (yet again in the history of man) to darkness—death, destruction, unspeakable horrors—that I have been pondering Christ Jesus as the Light of the world. Man has, for much of history, stumbled around as in a pitch black room groping for the switch, seeking existential meaning, or fulfillment through conquest, or answers to fear of death. Man craves light. Meaning that, although there may often be a failure of acknowledgement, man craves the Light.

It appears again and again in Messianic prophecy. Spend a few moments in Isaiah 42:1-8, a beautiful passage set down around 695 B.C. It is written in a vivid form of Hebrew poetry with, I might add, the firm stylus of truth:

    • Vs. 1: The character and mission of Christ are clearly stated. No equivocating here.
    • Vs. 2: His voice will be quiet and gentle and He will not seek attention through noisy demonstrations. The Christ will do no celebrity interviews. He is not abrasive, self-seeking, or condescending.
    • Vs. 3: With the weak and depressed in spirit, Christ will deal tenderly, not violently. This is a precious promise. Where the flame of devotion burns weakly, He will take care not to quench it. He will tend it until it burns   more brightly. His love for you will fan the flame of your devotion.
    • Vs. 4: His tenderness is not weakness. He will be firm and unbroken. He is a man’s Man. No doe-eyed Jesus here.
    • Vs. 5: The prophet makes it clear that the announcement of the Servant and His mission is from the Almighty. Thus says God, the Lord. Perfectly clear.
    • Vs. 6: His light will now shine on all mankind. Ah, there is it—the Light, whose illumination is within reach of everyone.
    • Vs. 7: He will cure physical and spiritual blindness and deliver from spiritual bondage. See also the Apostle Peter, the Apostle Paul, and Silas.
    • Vs. 8: He is all that the name Jehovah signifies: eternal, omnipotent, impossible to recreate. And amen.

The Light from the stable will grow and spread and purge and purify. It will never be extinguished. And, if we are willing, it will illuminate and love through us in a world badly in need of healing, warmth, and salvation—also the elements of Christ’s perfection.

O, Savior, illuminate and love through me.