This Sunday we continue the theme begun by Jeanne last week on the "I am" sayings of Jesus. Jeanne preached on John 6 where Jesus says, " I am the Bread of life." This week we look at Jesus saying, "I am the light of the world" in John 8:12. However, instead of focusing on this text in John 8, we shall focus on the way in which Jesus applies the text in the healing of the man born blind in John 9. This is a remarkable story, filled with drama, pathos and even humour.
If you have ever visited the castle in Cape Town, you will know the what it feels like to be in the dungeon when the tour guide closes the door and it is pitch dark; so dark that it doesn't matter whether your eyes are open or closed and the amazing experience of the door being opened again so that the light comes streaming in.
Travis Jarrett tells a story about a similar experience: "I was reminded of a time when I was a teenager and my family and I were visiting Kiev in Ukraine, where I grew up. My dad and I share a real love for early church history and so we decided to take a tour of some of the ancient Orthodox monasteries of Kiev.
We came to this one monastery that had the usual stuff that tourists enjoyed – a traditional service being held in the sanctuary; chapels and prayer walls where you could stop and pray; gift-shops where you could buy a souvenir to remind you of the prayer walls and the service. But this monastery also had something else that many tourists were not interested in – they had catacombs. Miles and miles of tunnels running under the monastery and the city itself. These catacombs were the early dwellings of the first missionaries to Kiev and portions of them had been opened to the public to go down, visit the prayer rooms, and pay respect to the men and women of faith who had brought the Gospel to the country centuries ago.
We prepared to go down by first entering a small room where we had to remove our shoes and put on soft slippers to minimize wear and tear on the floor. We were then handed a small booklet containing information about the missionaries, priests, and saints that we would find on display in their respective rooms. And lastly, we were handed a candle about the size of a regular pencil. Thus prepared, we entered into the catacombs.
The first thing I noticed is that these were built for small people who had no fear of enclosed spaces. The ceiling was only about 6’ high, and the tunnel was wide enough for one person to go down at a time. Everything was just carved into the rock – stairs, shelves, doorways, rooms – everything. I also noticed that there were no interior lights. Nothing had been added to aid in lighting the tunnels or the rooms, so you had to do everything by the light of your little candle. Every now and then, a large candelabra filled with pieces of candle would sit in the middle of a room to shed light on the relics, artifacts, and occupants of each dwelling. But in the tunnel, it was just you and your one candle.
You can imagine that this was a pretty dimly lit journey. You can then also imagine the panic that swept through the group of us that had traveled down when a gust of wind breezed through the tunnel, extinguishing our candles and leaving us in pitch black darkness. It is hard to describe the disorientation, confusion, and fear that one feels when in a small enclosed area with no light and no knowledge of where to go or how to get out. Though it lasted only a few seconds, it seemed like forever before someone fished a lighter out of their pocket and began to relight candles."What does the darkness represent for you? Fear, ignorance, unbelief, the work of the evil one? Or something else? If Jesus is the light of the world, then what does that mean - how does that light overcome the darkness of fear? The darkness of ignorance? Of unbelief? Of the evil one? Of the other darkness that leaves us anxious? Despite knowing that Jesus is the light of the world, why is it that so many Christians are depressed, anxious and fearful about what they see around and them and about the future?