He Is the Son. We Are the Moon.

Foreword:

Halfway through writing this, I encountered something I did not expect.  While attending church one Sunday, the pastor not only preached on the same topic of light, he used the very analogy from which I had derived the title of this piece.  My reaction was threefold.  First, I was pleasantly surprised that he was covering the same topic.  Second, I was increasingly surprised and amazed that he used the exact same analogy, for it is one that I had never heard anyone else use before (not to say that they haven’t, only to say that I had never heard it).  Lastly, I was left wondering how I could continue my writing and share it without being seen as a plagiarist by others who were also blessed to hear his excellent preaching.  The effect of this “coincidence” was layered.  While it was encouraging to hear that my writing (or at least part of it) was consistent with that of this respected pastor, it also took the wind out of my sails for this piece of writing for the aforementioned reason.  But, one thing we know to be true of wind is that it never stalls for long.  After asking God for guidance, it became clear that my concern of perceived plagiarism was akin to a sailor lowering his sails and refusing to be moved by the same wind driving another boat onward, for fear that he may be perceived to have “stolen” another’s wind.  Clearly, one does not own the wind, and therefore it cannot be stolen.  Neither sailor created the wind, they are only being moved by it.  It is like that here.  God moves through people like the wind, pushing us on towards our destination so long as we put up our sails and allow it.  Who am I to refuse the Wind?  Back up goes the sail, and once again I am pushed onward…

He Is the Son. We Are the Moon.

Despite the sun having made its nightly retreat hours prior, we steadily made our way through the woods unaided by any artificial light.  The full moon in the clear sky, reflecting the light of the sun from the far side of the world, was shining on the blanket of deep snow, illuminating the timberland that would have otherwise been cloaked by the darkness typical of the hour.  We quietly moved ahead along the narrow, winding path to the place where my arrow encountered its intended resistance.  With temperatures plummeting below zero that late January night, we were on a mission to track and recover the buck that had eluded me since mid-November.  Shortly after arriving at the place where he was met with the arrow, my stress level rose quickly.  Amidst the labyrinth of tracks in the snow, we struggled to find any indication of his path of retreat.  With fading light, and so many deer scattering in different directions as the shot interrupted the evening’s silence, I had lost track of him during the hurried dispersal.  Eventually, minute specks of red on the white snow revealed themselves to Kevin’s careful, discriminating eye.  Slowly and methodically he read the nearly invisible and largely uncooperative sign as he progressed the hauntingly difficult track.  Just as I had resigned myself to postponing the search until daylight, my rapidly increasing negativity and exasperation turned into that ever-welcome, overwhelming flood of happiness every hunter craves.  With skills as sharp as the finely honed blade awaiting its work in my pack, Kevin found him, he was down, and he had not gone far. Hugs, smiles, and prayers of thanksgiving ensued as we admired the creature who had been the object of my pursuit for the last two months.  Having been subject to the back surgeon’s scalpel just four months prior, I mostly watched as Kevin and Brandon labored under the painful weight of the mature buck hanging from the small tree trunk across their shoulders.  The deer wasn’t theirs, yet they bore its burden out of their love for a friend.  Indeed, this wasn’t the first time the crushing weight of a tree had been borne out of love for me.    

The moon wasn’t the only thing reflecting light into a dark world that night.  While the moon was reflecting the light of the sun, Kevin and Brandon were reflecting the light of the Son.  They had sacrificed their time, sleep, warmth, and comfort to help their friend in a time of need.  It may have been nighttime, but Jesus was shining bright as midday as we made our way out of the woods that night.  

Just as the sun, that monstrous inferno of fire in the sky, is the source of all physical light, life and warmth on earth, the Son is the source of all spiritual light, life, and love.  In the sun’s absence, cold, darkness, and death quickly follow.   Without Jesus, the physical manifestation of God, who is light and love (1 John 1:5, 1 John 4:16), there is only spiritual darkness, evil, and death.  The importance of fire to our world, namely in the form of the sun, cannot be overstated. No sun, no plants, no animals, no people.  It is this fire that gives life.  Lesser forms of flame also lend their live-giving support.  Experts agree, fire in a wilderness survival situation is one of the most essential ingredients to a person’s physical, and mental well-being.  Fire provides light, warmth, and protection from hungry predators lurking in the dark seeking something, or someone, to devour.  Fire also purifies. Subjecting meat and water to the heat of fire makes it safe to consume. The life-sustaining importance of fire in the physical sense is paralleled by the spiritual significance of fire.  Fire is used repeatedly in scripture to describe God Himself, and He even reveals Himself to men as such.  He spoke to Moses through the flames of that burning, resilient bush and He appeared to the Israelites as a pillar of fire, guiding them to the promised land by night.  John the Baptist speaks of Jesus baptizing people with the Holy Spirit and fire. When given earnest contemplation, surely something written deep within us recognizes the divine mystery and necessity of fire, for it gives life to both body and spirit.   So, it would seem to me that perhaps my love affair with, and insistence upon, the presence of a wood burning fireplace in our home may be well warranted, in more ways than one.

Until very recently in human history, the flame was the only source of supplemental light in the dark, and it is light that is the focus of this writing.  Scripture tells us that “…God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.” (1 John 1:5)  He is pure light, and pure light is blinding.  It is for this reason we cannot look directly at the sun, and why Paul was blinded by the light of Jesus on the road to Damascus.  While we are not the source of spiritual light in the world, we are all called by the Son, to be a full moon, a mirror, and reflect His pure light to one another. 

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”

Matthew 5: 14-16

We must first take note that a lamp cannot light itself, it must be brought to life, and into its purpose, by an external flame.  Jesus is the eternal flame that lights the lamp, and He does not want it hidden.  We exist to give light to all in His house, to be a full moon on a dark night.  Each night without fail, the earth turns away from the sun, causing darkness to descend on the land.  In the same way, darkness falls on the hearts of man when we turn away from the Son.  To be a full moon, we must not let anything in this world come between us and our view of the Son, lest we burn less bright.  Thought of another way, a dirty mirror reflects less light, and with less accuracy, the image of its Maker.  Just as the full moon on that January night kept us on the narrow, faint trail leading to that cherished, yet temporary source of physical sustenance, we are to be a lamp unto each other’s feet, guiding each other along the righteous path that leads to the eternal source of spiritual sustenance, our “…Father who is in heaven.”.  

In addition to light, there is, and always has been, spiritual darkness in our world.  I have pondered much lately about the relationship between good and evil and have found it easiest to understand the nature of this relationship in terms of light and dark.  What is interesting about studying good and evil in these terms is that light (goodness) is the thing that actually has a source while darkness (evil) has no source, it is fundamentally, and only, an absence of light. Darkness is brought about by a lack, while light is brought about as an overflow, an abundance, flowing forth from its source.  Where light exists, there is no darkness.  Unless sufficiently obstructed, light will always overpower and eliminate darkness.   Without much effort, we know this to be true.  If we light a candle in a dark room, the darkness is pushed back in direct measure to the amount of light from the flame.  Whether small candle, or blazing torch, darkness has no choice in the matter.  When it encounters light, it will immediately and unequivocally flee.  The devil himself is no braver, and shrinks back with no less rapidity when confronted by the Light. He likewise is not granted a choice, his very nature prohibits him such a luxury. 

“Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” James 4:7

Take note of the order. First, we are to submit ourselves to God, then resist the devil. We must first wipe clean the mirror, push the world aside to allow the moon its full solar gaze, and allow the Master to light our lamp so we may drive the darkness from His house. 

To be sure, no man is completely devoid of darkness.  A man is wise to recognize the darkness within himself and the ever present possibility that he may act on it, and the likelihood that he already has, to some degree, by the time he eats his breakfast.  It is quite easy to recognize the darkness in another, it is a good deal more difficult to recognize it in ourselves.  The war between good and evil, light and dark is real and ever-present inside ourselves.  The gravest of dangers lies in fighting the darkness we see in others with the darkness inside ourselves, thinking all the while we are on the side of good.  Darkness, by nature, cannot be overcome by more darkness.  It must be fought, conquered, and eliminated with light.  Evil acts are a manifestation of emptiness from people that are lacking love and light and it is most often hurt-people, who hurt people.  They are empty vessels in need of filling, although as we will see shortly, they may choose to remain empty.  Surely Jesus called us to love our enemies, but make no mistake, He does not call us to love everything our enemies do.  Evil should not be condoned in any form under the guise of “loving” one another, or ourselves for that matter.   Jesus unequivocally held people accountable for their sins, often quite boldly, but never with hatred, for it was the most loving thing He could do.  We would do well to remember the wise old adage, “Hate the sin, love the sinner”.

As a result of this spiritual darkness, there is no denying that horrible atrocities of evil are perpetrated every single day.  Many people struggle with the notion that a good and loving God would allow this wicked darkness to exist, and therefore deduce that He is either not a good, loving God, or He doesn’t exist.  It is a fair question, and one that plagued me in my youth.  The reconciliation between a God who is love and light and the evil darkness lurking in our world is found when we consider that when love is forced, it ceases to be love.  Love is voluntary, which accounts entirely for why it is meaningful.  Suppose a man builds and programs a robot in order that it will “love” him just as he wishes.  Can he truly feel loved by his creation?  Would not the love of his spouse, albeit imperfect, who chooses to love him until death do them part mean infinitely more? Of course.  God could have created people that would “love” Him without a choice in the matter, but that would by definition not be love, and therefore be meaningless.  The truth is, He first chose to love us, and He has granted us the choice to love Him back, or reject Him if we wish.  We can either keep the shades drawn tight and remain in darkness doing things as we please, or throw them wide and allow the Light to enter our house.  The sun will not force its way into your window, you are free to deny or grant its entry to your liking.  The same freedom is afforded to you by the Son, in order that by having a choice in the matter, you will therefore have the opportunity to experience love, in its purest form. 

Should you choose to let Him in, all you have to lose is what you believe now to be yourself.  Upon entering the house, His light will reveal things perhaps long hidden.  Shadows will flee, and He may then begin the process of rearranging, removing, and restoring the house to its intended order.  Uncomfortable though it may be at first, in time you will see that He has put your house in more perfect order, and with a wholly distinctive style that is quite surprisingly more, not less, your own.  If the Son is allowed to do His work, you may very well find yourself living in a house you no longer recognize, yet feel more at home than ever before. It is then, your house will not be able to contain the Light which has filled it, and it will be ablaze with the radiance of that glorious, eternal, Holy Flame which has always been, and will never stop burning.  

Do not be surprised if some late winter night, a weary traveler, with steps guided by moonlight, has labored to your door through the deep snow and up the hill on which they saw your house glowing from afar.  Perhaps exhausted and nearly frozen to death, they will have come seeking the warmth, sustenance, and hope of life promised by the smoke of your hearth.  Once inside, the traveler will finally find rest as they are bathed in the Light and Warmth of your Companion, who not only joins you by the fire, He is the fire Himself. What unspeakable joy when the traveler comes to know He has been there burning bright all the while, patiently waiting for His beloved child to come home.