Advent in John’s Gospel: Fearlessly Into the Dark
Crisis reveals character. That is the message of Advent.
What if we considered Advent as an invitation to consider the darkness, to have our character revealed? If we did that voluntarily, in the spirit of semper reformanda, could we avoid the crisis of unwilling exposure that produces so much more trauma and division?
“Every year, Advent begins in the Dark.”1 So preached Fleming Rutledge on the first Sunday of Advent in 1996 at Saint John’s Church, Salisbury, Connecticut.
She took her starting point from two of the lectionary readings for that Sunday, Isaiah 64 and Psalm 80. It’s interesting to me that the Gospel of John, which highlights the contrast between darkness and light more than all the Gospels, is not read much during Advent. Aside from the John the Baptist narratives, the Fourth Gospel does not tell the traditional birth of Jesus stories we associate with Advent. But if Rutledge is right, that “every year, Advent begins in the dark,” then John’s Gospel is very fitting for Advent meditations.
In that Advent sermon from 1996, Rutledge also said this:
“Advent is designed to show that the meaning of Christmas is diminished to the vanishing point if we are not willing to take a fearless inventory of the darkness.”2
What a striking phrase: “fearless inventory of the darkness.” It reminds me of Jesus’ words in John 3:19-21 (The Second Testament):
[19] This is the judgment: that Light has come into the Kosmos and humans loved instead the Darkness rather than the Light. For their works were evil. [20] For everyone practicing foul [works] hates the Light and doesn’t come to the Light so one’s works may be convicted. [21] The one doing the Truth comes to the Light so his works may become apparent, having been worked in God.”
A fearless inventory is precisely what we sinful human beings flee from. We especially see this in moments of institutional crisis, when image is threatened by potential public exposure. There is a recent and ongoing example just down the road from me at the International House of Prayer (IHOPKC). For those who are unaware, IHOPKC’s founder and leader Mike Bickle has been accused of sexual and spiritual abuse of multiple women. The stories being told are truly heinous, and I am praying these survivors experience the repair of truth. While the allegations are still unfolding, IHOPKC’s ongoing response shows all the predictable signs of institutional impression management. It is important for survivors to be aware of these impression management tactics, because, as Diane Langberg often quotes from Oswald Chambers, “crisis reveals character.” We often don’t have to wait until the end of an investigation to see the character of those being investigated. The process itself creates a crisis that reveals.
When Jesus said, “This is the judgment: the light has come into the world” (John 3:19), the word for judgment is krisis (κρίσις). You can easily see where we get our English word crisis. Christ has come, bringing light into the darkness. His light still shines today any time evil is exposed, causing crisis for our institutions, churches, schools and organizations that avoid the light. They lie and offer deceptively plausible narratives. They shut down curious inquiries into finances and alleged attempts at accountability. They attempt to hold up a mirror and redirect the convicting light onto whistleblowers, victims and advocates.
But here’s the thing. Those ways of avoiding the light, avoiding revelation, are nevertheless revelatory. When light shines in the darkness, revelation is as inevitable as the sun. The very act of avoiding the light reveals the darkness.
Here is an example from Mike Bickle. As told by survivor Jane Doe, Bickle emailed her husband on 10/9/23 after meeting with him earlier that day regarding her allegations. Bickle wrote (in part, emphasis original):
“What is painful is the thought that others being told a certain narrative that is not the narrative I believe God has and then they will past it on—that would constitute the greatest betrayal of my life.”
When a famous spiritual leader responds to allegations of sexual abuse by pitting those allegations against “the narrative I believe God has”, that response is revelatory. It shows pride, ego, self-deception, and the willingness to abuse spiritual power for control and self-serving purposes. In light of that darkness, I can’t begin to imagine what this woman, her family, and other IHOPKC survivors are going through this Advent season.
In truth, Advent, like any special season of the church calendar, can be a source of despair rather than hope. Spiritual abuse survivors feel the darkness that their abusers swept under the rug and behind the curtain, because they are still in it. As long as their wounds remain unacknowledged, the survivor is in the dark, all the while the religious leader and community celebrates the sunshiny hope of Jesus with sickening fanfare. It is a dark day indeed when abusive communities exile their victims while simultaneously hosting staff Christmas parties.
But it need not be this way. Advent is an invitation to resist our impulsive avoidance of Christ’s intrusive light. Sometimes that means joining others in their darkness.
“To be a Christian is to live every day of our lives in solidarity with those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, but to live in the unshakable hope of those who expect the dawn.”3
The hope of dawn is real. Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. But if we want to offer the hope of Christmas, we have to be willing to sit in darkness. We have to be willing to see that crisis reveals character. We have to be willing to see that those whom we trusted might not be who we thought they were. We have to be willing to have our own character tested. Do we run from the light by saying “that’s not my business”? Do we ignore the darkness by saying “I know him/her, they would never allow that on their watch”? Do we choose the darkness by avoiding painful truth-tellers for fear of being put out of the inner circle?
Every year, Advent begins in the dark where seeds of hope can die and be born anew. The wheat-grain that falls dies alone in the dark underground. “But if it dies, it carries much fruit” (John 12:24-25). The dark beginning before the dawn is conditional. “The one doing the Truth comes to the Light so his works may become apparent, having been worked in God” (John 3:21). Each of us has to decide if we will come to the light. Even so, each of us also has the chance to decide to join those who are already in the darkness created by foul deeds covered up in silence.
Perhaps that is a way to “walk around in the Light as he is in the Light” this Advent season (1 John 1:7, The Second Testament). By walking fearlessly into the dark, holding light that is unafraid of truth, and walking around in the dark with survivors of abuse. “If” we do that, “we have a common life with one another and Yēsous his Son’s blood cleans us from all sins.”
Quote from Adrienne von Speyr on John 8:12, “I am the Light of the world”
“Thus the light of the Lord is a penetrating light. Before Christ became a human being, it did not yet have this character. At that period, the light fell vertically from heaven. It poured forth its rays inexorably and burning, like a sun that draws everything in justice to the light, in a kind of abstract omnipresence. This light was far distant for men, who saw in fact the shadows cast by the light rather than the light itself. But when the light of the Lord appeared in human form on earth, it began to spread horizontally over the world: it became close to us, understandable and accessible. For now it was a light in human form, set in a relationship to our small earthly lights, so that it became a light in the parlor and a light in the kitchen. This makes it attractive to us, and we stream toward it. And this light, which is the divine love in the form of human love, is communicated by the Lord to men: other lights are kindled from this light, and new centers of light are formed in the world. And people stream out of the darkness to all the windows that are lit up.”4
Question
What might it look like for you to be a light to those in darkness this Advent season?
Advent : The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ (Eerdmans, 2018) p. 164.
Advent, p. 164.
Advent, p. 166.
The Discourses of Controversy: Meditations on John 6-12 (Ignatius Press, 1993), p. 155.