Nancy Ortberg - Seeing in the Dark: Finding Gods Light in the Most Unexpected Places

Our eyes are not the only things with which we see.

LAST MONTH JOHN AND I were in Turkey celebrating our thirtieth wedding anniversary. On one memorable day, our tour guide took us deep into a cave that was carved out more than fifteen hundred years ago by nomadic people who followed Christ, living in a land of those who did not.

It was a stumbling, slow walk in the dark. After following the path for some time, largely guided by the sound of our leaders voice and the narrow, cold walls on either side of us, we stopped.

As our eyes slowly adjusted, we saw in front of us a small room a church carved out of the cave centuries before. When our guide shone a slight beam from his flashlight against the walls, we were astonished by what we saw. Frescoes, painstakingly drawn by hand, still retained vivid colors of red, yellow, and blue. We saw sitting areas hewn out of rock and crosses of various designs carved into the walls. Much of the stone surface was charred black from the candles the worshippers had brought with them. This was a room where the light had burned for long periods of time. This was a room that reminded the Christ followers that there was light, even in the darkest and deepest of places.

I was struck by the intentional effort these people had applied to this one room.

Other rooms were strictly for survival. A small room carved out of the rock, five or six stories below the surface of the earth, designed for food preparation. A fire-pit area with an elaborate ventilation system. An area for milling grain. Other rooms were for sleeping, with multiple hallways connecting them for escape if necessary.

But this room was not necessary. At least not from a physical survival perspective. Yet more effort had gone into this one area than all the others combined. None of the other rooms contained art or color or symbols. In the midst of fighting for survival, these early believers had given some of their best and most time-consuming efforts to create this space to gather and worship.

This room was necessary. Perhaps their survival was more dependent on what they experienced in this room than on what happened in the kitchen, which kept them alive in a different way.

Our guide explained that the church had been built here because above ground, the faith communitys journey was dark. They were being hunted and persecuted, so they went below ground, where it was dark as well just a different kind of dark. Hundreds of years later, we stood on that ground below the ground, reminded that we were not the first to stumble and see in the dark. The walls continued to speak.

The references in the Bible to light in dark places are numerous. From Genesis to Revelation, light penetrates the darkness in bold and soothing ways. In the beginning, while the darkness hovered, God exploded the world into flourishing with Let there be light. Light is offered as relief for dark paths and unknown futures. Gods face is described as light God knows we need some.

Just as numerous are the Bibles references about the way we see in imperfect and incomplete ways, like a mirror that reflects and distorts an image at the same time. How faint the whisper we hear of him! Job says (Job 26:14).

And yet we are called to this journey of faith, with eyes that cannot properly focus and light that reveals only the next step. We are compelled to take that next step with merely a tug in our souls rather than the clear path we long for. We get a glimpse when what we want is a panoramic view.

Whats a person to do?

Take the next step, I suppose. At least thats how it has worked not just for me, but for most of the Christ followers I know, and as I emerged from the cave system that day, I realized that this is how it has been for Christ followers through the centuries.

Courage is putting one foot in front of the other when all you can see is a faint outline of the future. Or facing that future when it looks not at all how youd imagined. Its having the humility to admit a wrong turn, the resilience to try again, and the grace to not let it crush you.

Faith is a funny word it implies a gap, but we are looking to do away with that gap. We are looking for answers carved in stone, and we get a word. We are searching for certainty, and we get mystery and reflection. We think we would be safe in certainty, and yet it eludes us. We want enormous floods of light, and we get a flicker.

A majestic scene in nature stirs something deep within us that cannot be explained by factor analysis. And the things that can be explained do not grip us at the same level. We have such hopes for our lives and our loved ones; then a tragedy hits, and nothing is ever the same. Yet over time, joy and hope and beauty raise a tiny tendril of faith back into our lives, and we cannot explain it. We are seeing in the dark.

Perhaps that is most of what our faith journey is. Scripture seems to be full of stories of that ilk of people who took the next step when they were trembling in the shadows. Yet somewhere between when we read those stories and when we are left to imagine them, they take on a quality of assuredness that is simply not there. From Genesis to Revelation, Gods people have been asked to take the next step when they cannot see the next step. Thats the invitation you and I have been given as well.