Meditations from Zion

I am no scientist so I don’t have much to add to any discussion about “light” as a phenomenon. I know that light travels very fast and mostly we see light as a reflection. I know light can be a wonderful respite in a dark place and intolerable with a migraine. But am I in relationship with Light?

I John 1:5, 7a
This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. . . . But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, . . .

It’s difficult to talk about light in some new way that hasn’t already been investigated, sermonized, or otherwise been fully covered through exegesis. The only opening in this very crowded marketplace would be something very personal.

So what could that be? How do I engage light in my daily life? The light I read by at night in my bed? The lights of my car when I’m driving at night, less and less securely? The light of the computer screen? The light of candles that dot most of the surfaces in my home? The only time my family doesn’t complain about the candles are those infrequent days when the electricity goes out. There is the light in the refrigerator that I take for granted. There is the light in my stove that has never worked. There is the street light outside that manages to seep through my blinds and twinkle just enough to wake me in the middle of the night. There is the light show from my cable and router, day and night, pulsing out the information bits that stream across my desk.

But all of these lights are outside of me.

Do I know the light within? Is it just an idea, a way of expressing an unknowable, unseen presence? Or is there light in the soul, the heart, the spirit?

Other faiths speak of the light as well. New Age folks as well as various Eastern religions follow the idea that the light within is one of the most powerful energies in the Universe. The Light of the World.

Light to light: heart to heart: human to human: God to human and back again.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to artificially “glow in the dark” which is apparently now possible in animals through some kind of scientific hi jinx. Here’s a story about glowing cats. But I would like to experience the light within in a tangible way. Is that stupid? I suppose some would say I’m talking about “aura” or some other para-psychological phenomenon.

I don’t mean that either. God is Light and God is within. Therefore, light is within and that light must be of greater value than just a nice metaphor.

Relax, everyone. I’m just thinking out loud. Has anyone out there had a Christ-based experience with Light? I’d be interested in your stories.

From the web: (an excerpt from the publication, Sacred Architecture)
Light, then, formed the “medium and message” for illiterate Christians of the Middle Ages, using narrative and metaphoric imagery to convey the truths of the Faith while steeping the faithful in the spiritually evocative experience of the beauty of God with a mystical atmosphere created by jewel-toned pictures written in light, as well as subtly changing colors in the air and on interior stone walls. The faithful, accustomed to learn aurally, received the message of the Gospel verbally—but with reinforcing visual images created by light, sources of beauty and awe that, it was believed, could mystically connect the eyes of the beholder with the truths depicted, and thus remain lifelong reminders of catechetical knowledge and of the experience of God.

The modern church would do well to rediscover these proven catechetical techniques, filling church interiors with beautiful images of colored light, thereby satisfying human desires for visual stimulation, symbolic representations of theological truths, and the touch of the mystical in prayer. Modern eyes are exposed to so much sophisticated visual imagery; our catechetical efforts should include much more than written words by building upon the rich heritage of visual catechesis displayed by the traditions associated with stained glass windows. The Church teaches that eternal bliss in Heaven is the Beatific Vision—an experience expressed as a “visual” encounter with the knowledge of God, a “light” that fulfills and completes each person’s existence for all eternity. By providing visual and atmospheric beauty that captures the eternal truths in “lights of Faith,” the windows in our churches can teach as before and give an experience of the transcendent to the faithful, to “go beyond mere teaching—unless the sudden instinctive recognition of beauty is the greatest lesson of all.” — Lights of Faith, Stained Glass Windows as Tools for Catechesis by Carol Anne Jones