Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Lenten Words | Light


A guest post by Bethany Cooke

Ex umbris ad lucem. Out of the darkness and into the light.

When I was asked to contribute a word for the Lenten season, I began to reflect - what could I bring? What word did stand out to me from these 40 days? Did I have anything truly worth saying? I wasn’t sure; but, something, a small sort of instinct said, “Wait and see. Just, look and listen…”  I pondered, tried to quiet my mind, and waited as one does for the first pale pink streaks of dawn on the horizon.
And, then, there it was: “Light. Write about light.” I was somewhat surprised by this answer. I suppose I had been expecting something much more predictable, such as ‘discipline’, ‘suffering’, ‘obedience’, ‘perseverance,’ or the like. But, no, there it was - steady, quiet, strong, and certain - ‘Light’. I asked myself, “Why?” What a curious word to choose…. But, the more I reflected on it, the more it made perfect sense - for Lent, for my life, for all of us.
Because, Lent is cast in darkness. We begin slowly; but, as we traverse further into the Lenten season, we walk ever more closer to Christ’s body in the dark tomb, the disciples darkened in their understanding of what was to come, and the darkness which descended over all on Good Friday. We also, most vividly so in the Northern Hemispheres,  practice our Lenten disciplines primarily under the shortened, dark, days of Winter.
And, then, just there - at the edge of dawn, “..Early in the morning..”- comes Christ. Out of the darkness of suffering, sin, and death. Returned to life. 
Yes. But, even more truly, He comes and brings with Himself a flame, a torch, earned through obedience unto death and darkness, which pierces through to the very depths of our hearts. It transforms our darkness into His light.
“In Him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness but the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)
Dear reader, I see those words, I find courage and beauty there, and yet I too often still feel darkened in my understanding. How to walk these Shadowlands? I have my small votive - enough light for the step ahead. I peer through the questions and uncertainties, walk forward, obey as asked, repeat the promises, guard my little flame from wind or rain, and speak thanks. But, I walk wondering when the dawn will come, when the veil will be lifted, the darkness vanish. I hear a faint echo with every step that cries out, “When? For how long, Oh Lord, is this deep night?”
And, He replies:
“I will lead the blind by ways they have not known
Along unfamiliar paths I will guide them;
I will turn the darkness into light before them
And make the rough places smooth.
These are the things I will do;
I will not forsake them.’
-       Isaiah 42:15-16 
(emphasis mine)

And, the psalmist further declares to my repeated question:
 “.. Where morning dawns and evening fades, You call forth songs of joy.” - Ps 65:8.
            He never tells us when, dear heart. He simply says He will. Do you believe this, friend? Do I?
Can we say with Samwise “... that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing. There was light and high beauty forever beyond its reach.”?
            Will we, will I, act in the faith of His ‘will’ while laying aside our ‘when’?
Will we choose to step forward into the unseen, not demanding times or places; because, we trust the One with whom we walk?
There is the picture for our Lenten Season. That is the reason for this yearly ritual. We paint in miniature that which we must do throughout our lives. We carry our small flame in the darkness, stepping ever forward, knowing that “The true light which gives light to all men” is “coming into the the world”. He will not be overcome; but, as with the dawn on Easter morn, shall “call forth songs of joy.”
‘Ex Umbris ad Lucem’


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