Mid-Week Music #28 - Turn On the Lights

This has been one of the best Wednesdays ever.

We go to Bible Study every Wednesday—my brother, my dad, and I—and for Lent, there have been short services each time too. This week we started a new book in Bible Study (Nehemiah). On the way to and from, we talked about my blog (and that first post!), about James Jordan’s great theology, about wanting to make radio shows about certain Bible stories that are… well, somewhat misinterpreted. Things like Esther or Nehemiah, or the story of Jacob. We may have even yelled at culture a little. We had so much fun.

We also listened to music—When Things Get Electric, an album by Kerry Livgren (whom I've mentioned on my other blog). I think we listened to about six or so songs. This week’s MWM is one of them. It's the third song on the album, I believe.

But I still haven’t mentioned one of the things that affected me most about tonight: the sermon. The story was Jesus’ trial at Caiaphas’ house. They judged Jesus guilty, despite the overwhelming proof to the contrary. Peter once judged Him to be the Christ, but denied it that night. Judas Iscariot at least judged Jesus innocent that morning, but for him, it was too late. So… how do we judge Jesus?

How we judge Him is a confession of faith—is it true or false? Do we believe His word? Do we judge Him to be the Christ, worthy of all praise and deserving nothing less than glory?

But we don't always. We often take Him for granted, or don't care about Him. We have ignored His Word so many times. We are unworthy, deserving nothing less than death for our sins. Yet despite all our wrongdoing and our crimes and sins, He judges us innocent. He gave up His glory, and was named guilty in our place so that we might have an eternal verdict of innocent.

This sermon really touched me. I wish to goodness they had recorded it so that I could listen to it again. Instead, all I have are my little sermon notes, which don’t really compare to the real thing. But it’s something.

I think you might be wondering what any of this has to do with the song. I’ll tell you… right after the song itself.

Sometimes I sit and wonder if you’re wondering at all
Does it ever cross your mind when you’re alone
The pressure keeps on building until something’s got to give
In this twilight we’ve forgotten how to live
An illuminating journey brings a magical relief
Just to know there’s still at least one guarantee
And if it’s not convincing, if it’s still too dark to see
Then lay down all your false humility
And step into a new reality

Whoa
Lights, I want to turn on the lights
I want to see the whole world under lights
Shining bright, to shine as bright as the sun
I want to see the whole world overrun
Overrun
Ooh-ooh-ooh

The truth cuts like a razor as it slices through a lie
The further out we go the further in
So if you’re drifting homeward, then just take somebody’s hand
And lead them to a joy we can’t define
As we peer at last upon the grand design

We need lights (Lights)
Why don’t we turn on the lights? (Lights)
I want to see the whole world under lights
Shining bright (Shining bright)
To shine as bright as the sun (I want to see the world)
I want to see the whole world overrun

(You can see the whole world when you turn on the lights!)

***

Lights (Lights)
Come on and turn on the lights (Lights)
I want to see the whole world under lights
Shining bright (Shining bright)
To shine as bright as the sun (I want to see the world)
I want to see the whole world overrun
Overrun with lights (Lights)
I want to turn on the lights
I want to see the whole world under lights
Shining bright (Shining bright)
To shine as bright as the sun (I want to see the world)
I want to see the whole world overrun!

***


Well, all right, I know this might not be the best possible song for the sermon I mentioned. There are probably several ones better. But since this was from the music we listened to tonight, and I couldn’t think of a better one among those, this was what it ended up being.

But listen. We have forgotten how to live rightly. We’ve done so much wrong, and our darkness has filled the world. But God’s mercy is light, and the darkness has not overcome it. We still have one guarantee—Jesus has taken our verdict of Guilt, and replaced it with His verdict of Innocence.

The relief that we get from that simple truth is, as the song says, almost magical. The joy is undefinable. And so we can’t simply sit and keep it to ourselves. We need lights. We need to turn on the lights. The whole world needs to realize this. As it is, they reject that hard-won verdict of Innocence and stay in darkness and Guilt. They don’t even realize what they’re rejecting. To them, it’s still too dark to see.

But the truth won’t be concealed. It will shine as bright as the sun, and the whole world will be overrun with lights. All the things we did today—listening to music that praises God, studying His Word, talking about His Truth, even writing stories that imitate His Storytelling—those things can spread light. That is the grand design: to fill the world with light.

Alright, I may be mixing my metaphors, but it just goes to show you that in everything, there is a picture of God’s truth and grace. In courtrooms and verdicts of innocent or guilty, it’s there. In the contrast between darkness and light, it’s there. In designs and plans, it’s there. I could go on and on, but for now, I’m just going to end by telling you, plain and simple; Jesus died for our sins, so that we could live with Him eternally.

Now let’s turn on the lights.