It Isn’t Night for the Moon

Winter in Ireland. The time of year when the sun keeps shortening his hours, and the darkness encroaches steadily. It wasn’t late, but as I passed through our town that evening the sun’s face had already been missing for hours. And yet, I could still see his light. I saw it reflected off the full moon, beaming in the sky in all of its silver glowing glory. 

As I admired the great light of the night, I could make out the familiar patterns of shadows across the moon’s surface, cast by mountains and craters and crevices that must be enormous for me to be able to see their shadows from Ireland. The shadows were the exception, though. Most of what I saw was light. Light—from a giant, suspended ball of stone hundreds of thousands of miles away from us, yet it shone brightly enough to show me the world on a dark night, however dimly. That’s impressive for a rock that has no light of its own. It’s not a star. It’s not burning. It’s not a mirror. And yet it shines. 

As I drove home in the light of the moon, it occurred to me that the reason the moon could shine on me at night was because it was not night for the moon—while I was sitting in the dark, the moon was basking in a full and glorious day. The light it gave me was the overflow of the brightness it continued to receive from the sun. Suddenly, I was gripped with powerful aspiration to imitate the full moon above me. I see the many kinds of darkness in the world around me—the darkness of evil, wars, hatred, and the selfishness and pride of my own heart. The darkness is real, powerful, and disorienting. But even in the dead of night, I can imitate the moon. I can stand in a light more glorious than the sun—as Jesus said in John 8:12, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” The light of life. Life! I want that light. And like the moon, I know this light does not come from me—Jesus is the sun, I am only the shadowy rock. But as the natural sun is bright enough to make the moon light up, so the light of Christ is bright enough to make dull stones like me shine with his glory. This is why Jesus, the light of the world, could also tell his followers in Matthew 5:14 that “You are the light of the world.” You are the light of the world when you stand in the light of the Son, when you bask in his day, even while the world around you is in midnight darkness. You are the light that brightens and brings truth, that displays faithfulness and love and obedience and grace, that illuminates the darkness of sin and suffering and death all around you with the light of life. Life eternal. Life indestructible. Life to the full (John 10:10). 

The lights of Christmas remind us that Jesus, the light of the world, was willing to bring his day to our night. If you are trusting in him then, “You are all children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness” (1 Thessalonians 5:5). In Christ, the night does not define you. You can be a full moon, even at midnight.