“The people dwelling in darkness have seen a great light, and for those dwelling in the region and shadow of death, on them a light has dawned.”

Matthew 4:16

Where is the darkest place you’ve ever been?

I was a mile above sea level and in the middle of a cavern. Our family was in Montana, and we had an afternoon free to explore the Lewis & Clark Caverns State Park. Our guide led us through a two-mile trail in the belly of the cave as he showed us formations and how the natural tunnel was formed. It was well lit throughout, and our guide had a powerful flashlight.

Until he turned out the lights. There was zero light—artificial or natural. It was so dark that pitch black looked like noon day without a cloud in the sky. I held my hand in front of my eyes, and it made zero difference. Have you ever been unable to see your hand with your eyes open? It is surreal and a little terrifying. We were in a huge “room” in the cavern. But when the darkness swallowed us, the biggest feeling I had was a sense of claustrophobia. The room was big. The air was fine. But that darkness was heavy. We were all relieved when the lights came back on—30 seconds later.

When was the darkest place you’ve ever been? That’s a whole other question, isn’t it? Equally disarming. Same foreboding sense of claustrophobia. When you are stuck in the dark, it can still be the middle of the day. A dark place at work; with bills; in health. Darkness lingers in relationships that are broken and less than you want. Darkness haunts you in moral failures and trauma from your past. Darkness is a cruel passenger that hitchhikes on your trek through this life.

We all know the pain and confusion of a light cut on in the middle of the night. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust. You cover them, squint, or turn over into the pillow—anything to help your pupils contract. We know this pain too well. It is why I always bring my sunglasses into the eye doctor and end up wearing them for the rest of the day. The light, as good as it is, stings if you are not ready for it.

The late Timothy Keller paints this same truth in spiritual terms. “The light of the gospel is not comforting at first. It exposes you before it heals you. If you have lived in darkness, the light will sting your eyes before it shows you the way home.”

Today’s scripture from Matthew is quoted from Isaiah. Matthew recalls it to the forefront of our minds at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. Why? Because the first word of Jesus’ ministry is “Repent.” His first message is about turning from the dark back to the light. It is a word about stepping into the uncomfortable so that the healing power of Jesus can wash over you.

The Good News, and the discomfort that comes with it, is that Jesus is still in the business of shining His life. It is uncomfortable news because you and I still have things that we hide in the dark. There are things that we fight to keep hidden. Things we conceal.

The Good News is that Jesus and His light is not out to expose you. It shines to guide you. It is not a hammer to pound you with shame. The light of Christ is a compass to guide you home. It is a bandage to heal your wounds. It is a blanket to bring warmth as you come out of the cold, damp darkness.

Are you in darkness? Stuck in the depths and cowering in the corner? The Good News is that His light shines in the darkness. His light makes the darkness run and hide. His light penetrates every cavern—when the guide turns out the light. And every tomb when the stone rolls across its opening.

How has His light guided you?