I recently wrote a blog entitled The God of Darkness. When I hit "publish," I knew it was from the depths of my soul. I wrote it "from the other side" after a long season of disorientation. It was also one of the few blogs where I received an unusual amount of emails and texts in response because some of those individuals who read it had been or were going through a similar season.
One of those responses was from a person I respect and trust, and he asked me to explain the scriptural support for God being both light and dark. It was an excellent question and one that prompted this blog. I want to ensure we anchor back to scripture, and I don't misrepresent the character of God. We can't summarize God's character in a few verses. We can't translate God's character into this blog or on a podcast, but I will do my imperfect best to expand on what I meant by this statement: "Embrace the fullness of Who He is: Light and Dark."
It will be a wandering road, but I trust you'll hang with me or return to this post in a season when you're ready to hear my heart and allow grace to fill in the holes I'll undoubtedly leave.
We often lean on the Psalms to help us anchor our human feelings and the ebbs and flow of our walk. The Psalms are all over the board, just like our life experiences.
I don't want to categorize or over-generalize the Psalms, but I was listening to a Voxology podcast a while back, and it was helpful to consider the Psalms in the ordered manner we'll walk through below. Hebrews 4:12 reminds us that God's Word is alive and active. When we read verses, chapters, or books, they will mean different things in different seasons. As I write this today, I'm simply sharing about the Psalms and what they've meant to me as I've walked through orientation, disorientation, and reorientation (I share more about these words/descriptors in Part I of The God of Darkness).
Some of the Psalms are songs of orientation. Psalm 48 is an example: "Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised in the city of our God, in the mountain of his holiness." Psalm 95 is another one (verses 6 and 7 quoted): "Come, let us bow down and worship him; let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker! He is our God; we are the people he cares for, the flock for which he provides."
In orientation, we have a settled faith. We are grounded, and life is straightforward and in its proper place. There is wonder, joy, and warmth. Surrender is easy (or easier) in orientation. This "state of being" is what I was "sold" throughout much of my walk as a believer. The church builds much of its theology upon this sandy foundation of "all is well" because it is what we know best in our consumerist society.
In some of my posts, particularly Wordless Groans and The Wrestling Christ, I wrote through my disoriented state (reminder: I didn't have a "name" for what was happening nor had the words to describe it—it was this fog-like, unexplainable season of disruption, darkness, and deconstruction). Interestingly enough, these were the two blogs I've received the most texts and emails from in my 12 years of writing. I received quite a bit of commentary on The God of Darkness, which we'll discuss when we get to reorientation.
So, back to using the Psalms to help categorize the three states (orientation, disorientation, and reorientation). The two primary posts I made during my disorientation (Wordless Groans and The Wrestling Christ) were more like Psalm 13:
1 How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
4 and my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing the Lord's praise,
for he has been good to me.
God felt hidden. It was like He forgot me and was unwilling to see my sorrow. I struggled to put words to it (and I still wrestle with this even today), but I felt the author's words when he penned: "I will sleep in death." It wasn't depression, but it was absolute darkness. Not the evil, sinful type of darkness you immediately think of from the scriptures. A season of disorientation can consist of sorrow, lament, hurt, alienation, suffering, rage, resentment, self-pity, numbness, and even hatred. There is no equilibrium. It feels as though God is not committed to you.
I couldn't sing "happy songs" in this season. I would see the words on the screen and think, "I know this is true, but it isn't true today." One of the lies Christianity in America tells us is that we should be polite and grateful. But, the songs of lament still need to be added to our worship sets.
Lament is pointing out what is out of order and chaotic in God's good world—and asking Him to make it right. "You split the Red Seas. Do it again, Lord."
When we hit seasons of disorientation, scripture quoting from orientated seasons isn't always helpful. An exegetical study of Romans 6, 7, and 8 will provide spiritual nourishment but will likely only bring a head knowledge and not a heart knowing. God's Word is transformative, but as we've discussed, it is both an event and a process. Disorientation is about the process and putting the Truth into your body (not just speaking it over yourself, praying it'll stick).
When it comes to disorientation, we often need to hear these words:
This "foggy" season is not your fault; He's not "teaching you a lesson" while carrying a big stick.
I acknowledge what you're feeling.
This sucks.
I know you don't like God right now. I know you don't feel you can trust Him. It won't always be this way.
Prayer may feel meaningless, but keep talking.
I know what this feels like, and you're not alone.
One of the worst things we can do in seasons of disorientation is conclude how God is postured toward us (i.e., He is far away, He is blind, He is silent). When we don't have other believers around us during disorientation, we can make untrue conclusions about God's character. Erroneous conclusions about God's character can cause people to walk away from the Way, the Truth, and the Life (John 14:6) because they cannot reconcile their season with God.
There is a balance to strike, though, because if you try to be the "Psalm 13" believer to someone in disorientation, it can harden their heart further and make the matter worse. If you quote scripture at them and fail to hear their heart and acknowledge the pain with them, it can cause deep frustration or feel like a drowning burden (Luke 17:1-2).
Friends, I am the worst at having done this, and many of my previous verse-by-verse writings prove it. Does it make those previous studies invalid? No. They still imperfectly attempt to explain God's Truth (mostly from my season of orientation), and He will use them, correct them, and judge me for them as He sees fit. However, I grieve at this moment because I have been deeply guilty of trying to "bypass" someone's pain and discomfort and slather on a "word of encouragement" instead.
I'm not saying that Scriptural encouragement is inadequate or we shouldn't make it a constant flow in our life, but we must have the wisdom of when we need to share a word of encouragement through God's Truth or sit in silence and empathize and hear the person's heart.
In disorientation, we need our fellow sojourners to walk with us and help us see because it's so dark. This was incredibly difficult as an introvert because I had to learn that I needed people around me. Some of the people I expected to help me didn't, and others I never knew had. And, in that painful expansion process, my garden expanded.
The God of Darkness was my writings about reorientation. Reorientation's mantra is "There is hope in darkness." It is Jehovah's intrusion of circumstances. It's where you begin to "come to" after a knockout and see beauty again in a more significant form. Sitting in the woods, listening to jazz music, and walking outside brings a new wonder. You have experienced death, and now the resurrection is occurring (albeit slowly).
You don't go back to orientation, but you go through. Reorientation is standing on the other side, looking back, and saying, "Wow. That was insane. I never want to go through that again. God was so present."
Psalm 30 is an example of reorientation:
1 I will exalt you, Lord,
for you lifted me out of the depths
and did not let my enemies gloat over me.
2 Lord my God, I called to you for help,
and you healed me.
3 You, Lord, brought me up from the realm of the dead;
you spared me from going down to the pit.
4 Sing the praises of the Lord, you his faithful people;
praise his holy name.
5 For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor lasts a lifetime;
weeping may stay for the night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.
6 When I felt secure, I said,
"I will never be shaken."
7 Lord, when you favored me,
you made my royal mountain stand firm;
but when you hid your face,
I was dismayed.
8 To you, Lord, I called;
to the Lord I cried for mercy:
9 "What is gained if I am silenced,
if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your faithfulness?
10 Hear, Lord, and be merciful to me;
Lord, be my help."
11 You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
12 that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent.
Lord my God, I will praise you forever.
Verse 7 says, "When you hid your face, I was dismayed." Reorientation is when you begin to name and identify some of how God acted. I enjoyed a recent podcast by Mike Erre on "The Hiddenness of God" because it spoke of this "hiddenness characteristic of God (and Jesus) that we often skip over. It doesn't mean God is absent, but it's like groping in the dark. God veils His glory and presence (Exodus 19:16, 1 Kings 19:12, Philippians 2:6-8) because we cannot absorb all He is in this world (Exodus 33:20). Interestingly, in the Old Testament, God's presence was repeatedly manifested through the darkness, so that His glory doesn't consume those He loves.
Below are a few examples of when God used darkness or was shown to dwell in darkness:
"By day the Lord went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night. Neither the pillar of cloud by day nor the pillar of fire by night left its place in front of the people." Exodus 13:21-22
"Then the angel of God, who had been traveling in front of Israel's army, withdrew and went behind them. The pillar of cloud also moved from in front and stood behind them, coming between the armies of Egypt and Israel. Throughout the night the cloud brought darkness to the one side and light to the other side; so neither went near the other all night long." Exodus 14:19-20
"The people remained at a distance, while Moses approached the thick darkness where God was." Exodus 20:21
"Clouds and thick darkness surround him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne." Psalm 97:2
"These are the commandments the Lord proclaimed in a loud voice to your whole assembly there on the mountain from out of the fire, the cloud and the deep darkness; and he added nothing more. Then he wrote them on two stone tablets and gave them to me." Deuteronomy 5:22
So often, we think of God as binary. Because He is Light, there cannot be any association with darkness. We compartmentalize Him. We define Him within the constraints of only 1 John 1:15 ("God is light, and in Him is no darkness"). When I stated that God is both dark and light, I wasn't speaking of darkness as evil, sin, witchcraft, or our typical Christian definition of "darkness." It was from a heart that had encountered the darkness of disorientation and found Jesus there. He was my God of, over, in, through, and within darkness. My descriptive words in Wordless Groans (during disorientation) were, "It's a darkness so dark, it's actually Light."
Another example of this darkness and cloud is from 1 Kings 8:10-11 when the ark was brought into the temple:
"When the priests withdrew from the Holy Place, the cloud filled the temple of the Lord. And the priests could not perform their service because of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord filled his temple."
Matthew Henry does a more eloquent job of reconciling the multi-faceted thought of both dark and light:
"...The Lord said he would dwell in the thick darkness. It is so far from being a token of his displeasure that it is an indication of his favour; for he had said, I will appear in a cloud, Lev. 16:2. Note, Nothing is more effectual to reconcile us to dark dispensations than to consider what God hath said, and to compare his word and works together; as Lev. 10:3, This is that which the Lord hath said. God is light (1 Jn. 1:5), and he dwells in light (1 Tim. 6:16), but he dwells with men in the thick darkness, makes that his pavilion, because they could not bear the dazzling brightness of his glory. Verily thou art a God that hidest thyself. Thus our holy faith is exercised and our holy fear is increased. Where God dwells in light faith is swallowed up in vision and fear in love."
If you're in a season of disorientation or feeling God's deep and dark hiddenness, let me give you these words of hope: I see you. I know you feel completely and utterly abandoned. I know you are questioning, and that's okay. It won't be this way forever. This season is a profound act of surrender. It is suffering. It is the cross. And life will come from it.
Better stated and expanded on than I did in Part I: He is both the pillar of fire and the cloud (Exodus 13:21-22). He dwells in both. He is with you in both. Embrace the fullness of Who He is.