Cameras to the Cross
Imagine capturing a moment, freezing it in time, and revealing every hidden detail with just the right amount of light. With its nuanced dance between shadows and illumination, photography provides an analogy for life's spiritual journey. The term "exposure" in photography, rooted in the Latin "exponere," means "to put forth" or "to show." This process of allowing light to touch film brings to life images previously hidden in the dark, echoing the profound transformation Jesus Christ evokes in our hearts.
“In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” - John 1:4-5
The light John 1 speaks of isn’t mere photons randomly dancing in the air. It embodies Jesus Christ's exposing presence, illuminating the haze of human existence, revealing the essence of divine knowledge, and manifesting God's life-giving presence.
But…
Exposure can be painful because it reveals our false hope. The human heart has an underlying drive for control. We yearn to have a grip on every aspect of our lives. We desire a facade of light—a counterfeit that makes everything from our homes to our relationships appear polished and perfected. And so, we often find ourselves putting on a show, creating an illusion where everything is in its proper place.
Martin Luther said, “Sin never wants to be sin; it always wants to be righteousness.” That hits home with me. In my bid to control my environment, I’m often tempted to make any excuse to appear better than the truth might reveal or expose. But, by God’s grace, I am slowly learning that to shape a life that looks perfect from the outside is to inadvertently craft a reality that does not recognize the need for God and His redeeming grace.
Walking in the light means we're open and vulnerable, allowing our imperfections and flaws to be exposed. It means not masking our sins or giving them another name.
Walking in the light is a humble acknowledgment of our messiness. It’s a candid confession that we don’t have everything under control. It's about stripping away our self-created facades and being authentic in our dealings with ourselves and others. It is about the liberating freedom that comes with self-exposure—the space to be known for who we genuinely are: needy, imperfect people who depend on God and rely on others (who are not perfect either).
Most importantly, walking in the light means relying wholly on Christ. It's a recognition that our strength is insufficient and our wisdom is foolishness. But in Christ, we find completeness. Walking in His light blesses us with a humility that allows us to serve others with love and compassion.
Why is this possible? Christ's victory over darkness came through His sacrifice on the cross. It wasn’t a display of grandeur but an emblem of suffering and love. In our struggles with addiction, self-righteousness, or any form of darkness, we're called not to a theology of glory, seeking triumph through human means, but to a theology of the cross—finding redemption in Christ's sacrifice.
In the arms of the cross, we are exposed to this profound truth: genuine healing isn't a detour around our deepest pains but a journey through them. In these moments of raw vulnerability, where despair meets hope, we encounter the boundless love and mercy of the One who is the true light.
A disciple of Jesus is not one who stands pristine and unblemished. Instead, we are the beautifully broken, those who have gazed into the depths of our insufficiencies and, in that darkness, Christ has shown forth as the light of hope.
