Over Spring Break last month, I took the kids to Mammoth Cave. For those that don’t know, it’s the longest known natural cave system in the world—over 420 miles of intertwining network. We spent 4 hours hiking 250 feet below the Earth, covering just 4 miles of the system and taking on some 1,600+ stairs. We walked through enormous stone hallways and narrow slot canyons that were several stories high. We passed a number of waterfalls and sections completely covered in delicate sprawling gypsum “flowers”. You are unlikely to ever be disappointed at a National Park, and Mammoth Cave is no exception! At one point about halfway through our trek, the Park Ranger who was leading the tour said, “Now, let us experience the cave the way that it has been experienced for thousands of years”—and he proceeded to turn off the lights.
CLICK.
That is a darkness that I have never known before. A darkness that completely conquers—that blinds and suffocates. A darkness that constricts and disorients. It distorts and confuses and crushes. It presses in on you from every side, so that you feel it—feel it on your hands and neck and in your hair and mouth—an unsettling, bone-chilling darkness. I should establish that I am indeed not scared of the dark (I mean, most of the time I can usually walk to the basement with all the lights off). Not to mention the fact that I needed to be brave for my kids as they death-gripped my hands in the inky catatonia—but in that moment I was [a little] rattled. You cannot tell if your eyes are open or closed. You can pass your hand right in front of your face and have no idea it’s there. I didn’t try it, but I don’t think you would have been able to tell if you were sitting or standing—or probably even naked or clothed! (ok, maybe those are a little more straightforward…) But as a result, now I can finally understand how in 1 Samuel 24 David was able to creep up to Saul unnoticed as he was relieving himself in a cave and cut off a corner of Saul’s robe. Similar to Saul, if I were ever relieving myself in a cave, I would have exactly one thought and one thought only as I blindly search into the blackness all around me—please God, don’t let a bat swoop down and bite me on the pecker!
I have pondered the experience of this all-consuming darkness over this month, and I realized how much I rely on my sight. I go about my days and my life, typically relying on what I see—not usually thinking about or being aware of the realm that is unseen.
The Bible talks about sight quite a few times. Sometimes it is a literal sight as in vision/being able to see. Other times it is a metaphorical sight and can refer to a number of things, including spiritual understanding or insight. 2 Corinthians 5:7 says, “for we walk by faith, not by sight”—we can see and experience the wonders of God if we have the eyes of faith to “see” what is unseen. After all, “faith is being sure of what we hope for, being convinced of what we do not see (the conviction of things not seen, as some translations say)” (Hebrews 11:1). How quickly we can forget about what we do not see!
Sometimes in life, we encounter storms—or caves. We become blinded by our immediate needs and our surroundings that are rapidly failing and decaying all around us. Maybe you are doom scrolling social media. Or grieving something that has been lost. Maybe it’s your health or the health of a loved one. Maybe you are wrestling with despair or depression or you’re just plain tired—weary from the journey of your life. Cancer, infertility, an unforeseen diagnosis for you or your child, miscarriage, financial instability, lost jobs or relationships—bats in a cave—you name it. Life doesn’t always pan out how you think it should. Maybe it feels like a cruel twist of fate—a callous roll of a cosmic dice. Fear, shame, anxiety, frustration, disappointment, pain. I will mash up that Rainer Maria Rilke poem and say—everything will happen to you / beauty and terror. If it ain’t happened to you yet, hold on to your biscuits. The reality is, that there is a real and present battle being waged all around us. There is a real and present enemy that is prowling—seeking for people to devour, looking for marriages and families to destroy, searching for peace and hope and faith to steal. “Our fight is not against people on earth.” (We are living through a pretty crazy time here… maybe back up and re-read that a few times out loud) “Our fight is not against people on earth. We are fighting against the rulers and authorities and the powers of this world’s darkness. We are fighting against the spiritual powers of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12).
Sit (or stand—cause you won’t be able to tell the difference) in Mammoth Cave with the lights off, and you will come to know the darkness that was over the surface of the deep before God created light (Genesis 1:2). Beauty and terror will happen to us in this life. How do we get through it? We have to use our eyes of faith and not allow ourselves to become consumed by fear (what we see with our physical eyes). You see, where there is fear, there is an absence of faith. They cannot coexist. Like Peter walking on water—there was a time when his faith faltered and he became afraid and then started to sink. “But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. ‘You of little faith,’ he said, ‘why did you doubt?’” (Matthew 14:30-31) Sometimes, what we see can lead us to doubt—we walk by sight (and therefore not by faith) and what we see causes our faith to waver, causes us fear and uncertainty. Hence, walking by faith (Hebrews 11:1)—trusting not in how big the storm is but in how big our God is.
Throughout the stories of the Old and New Testament, we see countless examples of people responding in some instances with fear and in other instances with faith. Sometimes they get it right, and sometimes they allow themselves to be ruled by their fear and they make big mistakes trying to force their own way out of a jam based on what they see with their eyes—based on the burdens that they are carrying. Usually, it is a selfish motivation or just a lack of trust—doing what is right “in their own eyes.” They see mountains or seas or deserts or armies or droughts or storms or angry crowds or kings and they lose their bananas because they lost their faith—they started to doubt.
Abram sometimes responded with faith—“Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father’s family, and go to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1)—or when God tested him and asked him to sacrifice Isaac as a burnt offering in Genesis 22 to name a few. Other times he responded with fear—like with Hagar and Ishmael in Genesis 16 or when he claimed his wife Sarai was actually his sister (a half truth, but still!) in Genesis 12 and again in Genesis 20. He is fearful that his life will be endangered because of his smokin’ hot wife, that he goes along with this ruse—TWO DIFFERENT TIMES!
Moses has a lot of examples on both sides—fear of speaking to Pharaoh when God calls him from the burning bush, faith (and sometimes fear) with the ten plagues, faith when crossing the Red Sea. I mean, check this guy out. This is his response when they were trapped between the Red Sea and “all the chariots of Egypt” and the Israelites really let Moses have it with some classic ancient roasting. This is what Moses says to them, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Exodus 14:13-14) A few chapters later in Exodus 17, he again responds in faith. The Israelites are thirsty, they are grumbling—it says they were almost ready to stone him. He goes before the Lord and God tells him to strike the rock with his staff and water will flow out of it. He does as the Lord commanded, and water gushed from the stone. But later, in Numbers 20, we see an almost identical story. The people gathered in opposition to Moses and quarreled because there was no water. Then, “The Lord said to Moses, ‘Take the staff, and you and your brother Aaron gather the assembly together. Speak to that rock before their eyes and it will pour out its water. You will bring water out of the rock for the community so they and their livestock can drink.’” But this time, Moses responds with fear and exasperation. He barks at the people, “‘Listen, you rebels, must we bring you water out of this rock?’ Then Moses raised his arm and struck the rock twice with his staff.” Verse 12, “But the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, ‘Because you did not trust in me enough to honor me as holy in the sight of the Israelites, you will not bring this community into the land I give them.’” Instead of trusting God, he let himself be ruled by fear, and there were consequences to his actions.
I won’t go into depth on other examples. But we see fear and faith play out across numerous other characters. Gideon, Samson—even Elijah. King Saul, King David, King Solomon—the disciples. Look at the disciples in the storm in Mark 4. They were in fear and woke up Jesus, asking, “Don’t you care if we drown?” Jesus gets up, rebukes the wind and waves saying, “Quiet. Be still.” Then he turns to his disciples and says, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” Then, they were truly terrified, “Who is this, even the wind and waves obey him!” Then look at them after the resurrection, when their faith was made full. Hardly a shred of fear—Peter is unrecognizable, completely transformed (ultimately transformed by the love of Jesus)—and we know that perfect love casts out fear (1 John 4:18).
A final character study. Let’s look at Jesus. Jesus for the most part, always seemed pretty calm. Exorcisms, leprosy, temptation from Satan himself, adulterers, tax collectors, uptight Pharisees, storms, hangry folk, dead people—you name it, he was generally at peace, perfectly exemplifying walking by faith. He had complete confidence that he was exactly where the Father wanted him to be, doing exactly what the Father wanted him to be doing. In John 5, Jesus outlines his authority, saying, “Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does. Yes, and he will show him even greater works than these, so that you will be amazed.” Let’s jump forward to the Garden of Gethsemane on the night that he was betrayed. He goes to pray and begins to feel (here are a number of different translations used) grieved, distressed, sorrowful, very heavy, sad, troubled, upset, anguish, deep anguish, grievously troubled, agitated, a heavy heart. It never says fear. But surely, Jesus being fully man, experiencing everything we feel, fear was part of what he was feeling that night? One can speculate. Despite all that he was feeling, he did not act on his fear. His trust was ultimately unshakable. Unlike every other person, before or since, faced with acting selfishly in fear or selflessly in faith, Jesus submitted himself to the Father. “Not as I will, but as you will.” He could have gotten out of that situation a thousand different ways, acting selfishly for his own gain. But no, he humbled himself. He walked out in quiet faith, the will of the Father, so that in him, you and I might become the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:21) Jesus chose to suffer, and in doing so, modeled for us how to surrender to what God the Father has planned for us. That’s the essence of faith. It’s humility—it’s submission. It ain’t up to us. We aren’t in control. We are not God—we are sheep and sheep need a shepherd.
The Apostle Paul summed it up masterfully in his letter to the Philippians. I will include the whole passage here. (Philippians 2:5-11, NIV)
5 In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus:
6 Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
7 rather, he made himself nothing
by taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
8 And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
by becoming obedient to death—
even death on a cross!
9 Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
10 that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
11 and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
I will use verse 10 to segue us back to “under the Earth,” (after all, what kind of writer would I be without nimble transitions?!)—standing in the complete darkness of Mammoth Cave, 2 miles from the cave entrance.
Our guide then lit a tea candle. (Literally, this thing was probably the smallest candle ever made). In an instant, I kid you not, the entire chamber was illuminated. I looked around and could see every single face of the 72 of us present on the tour. I thought about John 1:4-5, “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” (or for my KJV fans out there, “and the darkness comprehended it not.”) No amount of darkness can ever overcome even the faintest trace of light. (Well……unless we’re talking about black holes…in which matter is crushed and torn apart into an infinitely dense point, which creates an enormous gravitational force where nothing, not even light, can escape…) 😬 Black holes aside, my elaborate metaphor stands.
When we choose to surrender, as Jesus surrendered—when we choose to trust God even when we are hurting or suffering or don’t see a way out or a way forward—when we choose to walk by faith and not by fear (or sight)—our lives will shine in the darkness. We become light. Even if our faith is thin and weak, darkness cannot comprehend it—darkness cannot overcome it (black holes aside). The beauty of it is that we are never alone in our suffering. We don’t have to face the darkness alone. We don’t have to shoulder burdens alone in darkness or despair. He went before us and conquered the darkness. His holy light is unfathomable. His peace and his presence are given to us. Jesus said in Matthew 11:28-30, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” A yoke is typically designed for two. Jesus is right beside you. (Also, did Jesus just make a pun about his burden being Light?? 👀👀)
Is it even possible for me to write a blog and not quote 2 Corinthians 4?? I don’t think so. “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.“
One of my favorite stories from the Old Testament is in 2 Kings 6. The Arameans were at war with Israel. Time and again, Elisha keeps warning the King of Israel of where the Arameans had set up their camp, which enrages the King of Aram, to the point where he thinks one of his officers is working for the Israelites as a spy. But they reply that it is the prophet Elisha, who can tell the King of Israel the very words he speaks privately in his bedroom. The King of Aram is done playing games, he learns where Elisha is and by night, sends a strong force of horses and chariots and completely surrounds the city.
Here’s what happens next:
“When the servant of the man of God [Elisha] got up and went out early the next morning, an army with horses and chariots had surrounded the city. ‘Oh no, my lord! What shall we do?’ the servant asked.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ the prophet answered. ‘Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.’
And Elisha prayed, ‘Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.’ Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”
Do you have the eyes of faith, that can see what is unseen? Do you have the conviction of things not seen? That even amidst the darkness there is steadfastness—there is constancy—there is a Rock of Ages. Can you see the beauty and goodness and sovereignty of God, even as things crumble away in your hands? Can you trust that he has gone before you? That he has a plan and a purpose for you? That there is nothing that you will ever face that he has not seen coming or that he has not already prepared you for. That there is nothing in your life that is broken or wasted that is beyond his redeeming hand. Do you have assurance that you are his? That nothing can ever separate you from his steadfast love? That he can work a way for you, even if you are hemmed in on every side? Do you believe that those fighting with you outnumber those fighting against you? God is a deliverer—a redeemer. He does not lose battles. He is a friend. He will restore every single broken thing. He is singing over you. He is watching over you. He is for you! Yes, he tests us, he tests our faith, but it is always for our good. He can take what the enemy means for evil and turn it for our good. God—who exists outside of the bounds of time—is already present in all of your tomorrows. You are never alone. He knows the end from the beginning, so who are we to question him or doubt him? (Remember how that worked out for Job??)
O Lord, open our eyes! Give us the eyes to see what is unseen! Help us to wait on you for renewed strength. Help us keep our eyes on you, like the Psalm of David says (Psalm 16:8) “I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.”
Because of Christ,
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,
“It is well, it is well with my soul.”
DAVID SCOT MUSSER 