"Andrew Peterson once said that the job of the Christian artist is to adorn the dark. That's what you're doing in this book. You're trying to adorn your son's life and his memory in a way that doesn't feel gaudy or artificial, but in a way that honors him best."
This really gave me pause. Our job to adorn the dark?...I suppose something like bringing beauty from ash... I found myself reflecting on that idea though... to embrace the dark. Even adorn it with beauty and art.
Since I was little, I was always intrigued by the imagery of light and dark in the Bible. Dark was bad. God was light. 1 John 1:5 seemed cut and dry, "that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all."
How then could it be right to embrace the dark? Now obviously the dark can be used metaphorically to refer to different shades of things... dark in the Bible often refers to unrighteousness, powers of darkness. As compared to the darkness of grief, or other feelings: a derivative of sin, yes, but a little different. Still, though.
And yet just two nights ago I read Ps 139:12, "Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You, but the night shines as the day; the darkness and the light are both alike to You." And I found myself stumped... how can the God of light, with whom "is no darkness at all" say that they then are both alike to Him? As I read Andrew's quote, and meditated through this article, however, it began to make sense. Robert's writing is a beautiful example of it...it's a matter of perspective. Of bringing light to the darkness. Of seeing the light that's IN the darkness. Yes, there will always be a clear divide, spiritually. But just as God can see through the darkness, and in doing so, bring light to it, so can we, as the God of light indwells within us. Perhaps Ps 36:9 solves my dilemma: "In Your light we see light."
"Andrew Peterson once said that the job of the Christian artist is to adorn the dark. That's what you're doing in this book. You're trying to adorn your son's life and his memory in a way that doesn't feel gaudy or artificial, but in a way that honors him best."
This really gave me pause. Our job to adorn the dark?...I suppose something like bringing beauty from ash... I found myself reflecting on that idea though... to embrace the dark. Even adorn it with beauty and art.
Since I was little, I was always intrigued by the imagery of light and dark in the Bible. Dark was bad. God was light. 1 John 1:5 seemed cut and dry, "that God is light and in Him is no darkness at all."
How then could it be right to embrace the dark? Now obviously the dark can be used metaphorically to refer to different shades of things... dark in the Bible often refers to unrighteousness, powers of darkness. As compared to the darkness of grief, or other feelings: a derivative of sin, yes, but a little different. Still, though.
And yet just two nights ago I read Ps 139:12, "Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You, but the night shines as the day; the darkness and the light are both alike to You." And I found myself stumped... how can the God of light, with whom "is no darkness at all" say that they then are both alike to Him? As I read Andrew's quote, and meditated through this article, however, it began to make sense. Robert's writing is a beautiful example of it...it's a matter of perspective. Of bringing light to the darkness. Of seeing the light that's IN the darkness. Yes, there will always be a clear divide, spiritually. But just as God can see through the darkness, and in doing so, bring light to it, so can we, as the God of light indwells within us. Perhaps Ps 36:9 solves my dilemma: "In Your light we see light."
Oof: "...the dilemma is that maybe we love the language, the poetry, we use to describe God more than we love God."
Thank you both so much for this.
Great wisdom here. Bob Cording is a great teacher, a great poet.