Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Whatever You Do, Don't Stop Staring Into That Light.

This makes me chuckle. Have you ever been told that? Me neither. Pretty much the opposite, in fact. Not only do most people normally not deliberately stare into intense light, we actively avoid doing so. For example, when someone shines a flashlight into your eyes, is your instinct like mine? To squint. Shield. Turn away. Or how about closing your eyes while screwing in a new light bulb to avoid the initial burst of light that comes when the connections are made? Or, for a twist of irony - when you're at the optometrist's office getting an eye exam, the doctor shines that single beam of intense white light directly into your eye and tells you to look at it and not blink - for what must be 10 minutes straight. I can never manage to not blink. I suppose the end justifies the means for this uncomfortable practice. OK, point made. Staring into bright light for long isn't a great idea - our eyes don't handle it well. But there is a part of us that not only handles it well, it's vital. This past Christmas season, an awakening began for me related to beholding brilliance. A connecting of truth with practicality, illuminating the reality that, though our physical eyes don't tolerate long exposure to bright, intense light, our souls are made for it. Last month I did a talk at a ladies' Christmas party, and the title was "Immanuel: Hearing His Story, Changed by His Glory." I asked God to lead my preparations and sought Him for what the name of the talk should be. After a few days, this is what came. While it reads nicely in a bulletin or poster, it didn't resonate in me at first. Kinda sounded a bit cliche - all rhymey and everything. But a journey was about to happen to cause me to think otherwise; a journey through Immanuel's life. One that would lead me to conviction, amazement and worship -- nothing cliche about that. When you hear the story of Immanuel, you encounter who He is. More than the figure of Christmas carols or the babe in the manger. A King - a powerful, righteous, glorious King who left heaven and entered planet earth in complete human frailty. Who lived a life of service and love, suffered rejection, then execution on a Roman cross. A King so powerful that He conquered death and the grave and then victoriously returned to heaven. It was in the process of compiling scriptures and images that would tell the story of Immanuel's earthly life that I beheld Him anew. Hearing Immanuel's story means we see Him for who He is. God with us. And if God is with us, we will see His glory. And when we encounter His glory, we are changed. Back to not looking at the sun, I guess this warning was like many others I got as a kid. Some probably never questioned that, but others, present company included, had to experience why it's not a good idea to stare at the sun with no eye protection. So, with curiosity satisfied, I walked around for awhile with vision obscured by bright circles and realized the reason for the warning. What you keep looking at, you keep seeing. What would happen if you gazed at Immanuel and never looked away? Would you keep seeing Him, as you keep seeing bright white circles after looking at the sun? It would depend on how close you are to Him. In concrete terms, Immanuel's glory can be thought of as Light. If you'll permit me analogy, let's say Jesus is represented by a spot light and his glory is the beams that go forth from the light. Now let's say you are 50 yards from that spot light. It shines in your direction and you know it's there. No doubt -- you can see it, and though it's not intense, the rays reach you, barely. Not enough to cause you to shield your face, much less illumine your surroundings. But then you move closer - more like 20 yards from the light. Your surroundings are still dim but the light dispels some of the darkness. The light touches you - anyone watching would see you illumined in the light's rays. And then you move directly in front of the light. It is all over you. Not one part of you isn't touched by the light. You can't see anything else -- you can't even see the person holding the light for the brilliance that claims your capacity to see. Immanuel is offering His glory to us -- to get close to Him and stay there. To not look away. It's his living, real-time presence and power that is ours as we look at Him in the midst of trial, instead of looking at the trial. Whom we keep looking at, we keep seeing. And when we keep seeing Immanuel, we change. So as we take our first steps into 2015, I'll be the only one to offer this advice: whatever you do, don't stop staring into the Light.