This morning, we awoke to a bright, cloudless sky. Our home has many windows that let in the bright sunshine on clear days, so on days like this we frequently don’t even have to turn on interior lights. The sunshine streaming in through the windows might not be as bright and strong as our electric lights, but it’s sufficient.
This afternoon, clouds are moving in ahead of anticipated weekend storms. As the clouds build, we alternate between bright sunshine and darkening shade. In some rooms, we’re turning on lights to counteract the game of peekaboo the sun seems to be playing.
When a storm system actually arrives, though, I expect a very different story. The front will solidly entrench itself, and heavy storm clouds will block the sun. In our home, we’ll have to use the lights that do not receive much use during a sunny stretch.
For so long, Christians in the United States have lived much as we do in our home. We’ve been content with the light of the cloudless or partly cloudy skies of morality, rarely seeing the need to turn on our lights of Christ-likeness. Why? Because we mistakenly equate Christianity and morality, thinking the light of morality is enough.
Clouds of trouble do cover the sun briefly, and we turn on our lights for a while, taking a stand for godliness. But, because the storm has not yet arrived in all of its ferocity, we inevitably turn off our lights of godliness when the sun of morality emerges from the clouds again.
Recently, the Supreme Court handed down a decision that has once again blocked the light of morality. While many Christians are in full-fledged panic mode over this decision, the reality is that this is just another bout of cloudiness – maybe even a thunder-shower – ahead of the real storm front.
But, what if we as Christians responded to this shower differently? What if we chose to turn on our lights of godliness once and for all? What if we decided to stop relying on the intermittent light of morality and made a move to operate instead in the consistent and full light of godliness?
It’s a frightening thought for American Christians, to be honest. Such an action would mark us even more profoundly than morality ever did, perhaps even expediting our progress toward persecution.
But, it would also establish us firmly in a light that can never be dimmed.
The light of morality, grounded in a false belief that man is inherently good, was destined to be extinguished. Scripture reminds us that all goodness is bound up in Christ – man is sinful, not good. Without Christ, even the most moral of Americans will eventually bow to the lie of equality.
Do I like the decision that was handed down by the Supreme Court? No. Has it robbed reason to rejoice? Again, no. On the contrary, it has actually given me reason to rejoice. Why? Because now a few more Christians will choose to move from the fading light of morality into the never-failing light of godliness. They will grow closer to Christ through it. They will become stronger witnesses for Him because of it. And more of the lost and dying in this world will come to saving faith as a result of it.
And that, my friends, is why I rejoice, even in the face of those inevitable storm clouds.