Light, darkness, shadows and hints of God

Confession: I can be a bit sarcastic. Lippy. A bit of a smart-, uhhh, aleck (I've been criticized for swearing, so I'll choose words carefully).

So I'm sitting in a small, Baptist church in Memphis, Tennessee a few weeks ago listening to the sermon. The pastor seems like a bright enough fellow. He's talking about fear and how with God on our side we needn't be afraid.

Fair enough...nice sentiment all around.

But then I got distracted.

I started murmuring to my friend next to me. Within a moment my mind was elsewhere.

I don't remember anything else that was said.

But I remember my questions and the tumbling route that my mind took. It's funny--I'm a "good, Christian guy" (ok, a Christian guy...ok, certainly a guy). You would think that I could concentrate for thirty minutes with pastor-guy. As a part-time, amateur pastor-guy myself you'd think I could offer up that much respect.

You'd think.

But then you'd be wrong.

To start with pastor-guy listed a bunch of phobias and then was asking who might be afraid of these things. (Funny tangent: I was amused when someone down the row raised her hand to both claustrophobia and acrophobia. I don't know her well, but I know she's a flight attendant. Given those proclivities that's got to be a tough job.)

Anyway, the list of phobias led pastor-guy to talk about being afraid of the dark and our childhood fears of boogie-men and shadows. And he launched into how we need not fear, because with God--with the one, true Light--the shadows will go away.

I mumbled to Christa "but shadows require light."

"What?"

"See, shadows cannot exist without light. The presence of light allows the shadows to exist. Light causes shadows."

"Shhh..."

So back into my brain I dove.

Yes, God is light. The first few words of the Gospel of John, the woman searching for a lost coin, "Light of the world stepped down into darkness." I get it.

But the presence of light doesn't make the shadows go away. Have you noticed this? The biggest shadows occur on the sunniest of days. The scariest shadows dancing on the wall of your bedroom are caused by the flickering candle on your nightstand.

The only time there are truly no shadows is when it is completely dark. A truly shadow-less experience only indicates a complete absence of light.

Dark, winter nights. Caves. Darkrooms. Basements.

There are certainly days with no shadows. Gloomy days, days with diffused light and overcast skies and obscured sunlight. Days with no shadows indicate dim light (and yet the sun is still there).

The Light I know is not dim.

In fact, I'm not so sure that I think I should count on the Light to drive away the shadows. I think that's backwards. I think the very presence of shadows demonstrates that there must be a light. The bigger the shadows--the bigger the light. When the shadows are moving--the Light is moving.

Light will drive out darkness, certainly. Shadows are the quivering remnants of darkness. Shadows are evidence of light.

(Like many things with our wonderfully mysterious God it's a delicate paradox. Can you truly see light? Without shadow could you prove sunlight to me?)

It is not because the Light will repel the shadows that we do not fear (although at times the shadows will be repelled--and in the end the Light will certainly overcome them). No, we are fearless because the shadows indicate that there must be a Light.

The presence of shadows in our lives proves there is a God.

Two weeks later and I'm still thinking about Baptist-pastor-guy's sermon.

Imagine if I'd listened to it...