It is no mere grammatical pedantry that draws attention to the fact
that four times in this text does our Lord employ the definite article,
and speak of 'the light.' And that that is no mere accident is obvious
from the fact that, in the last clause of our text, where the general
idea of light is all that is meant to be emphatic, the article is
omitted. 'Yet a little while is _the_ light with you; walk while ye
have _the_ light…. While ye have _the_ light, believe in _the_ light,
that ye may be the children of light.'
So then, most distinctly here, in His final appeal to the world, He
draws back the curtain, as it were, takes away the shade that had
covered the lamp, and lets one full beam stream out for the last
impression that He leaves. Is it not profoundly significant and
impressive that then, of all times, over and over again, in the compass
of these short verses, this Galilean peasant makes the tremendous
assertion that He is what none other can be, in a solitary and
transcendent sense, _the_ Light of Mankind? Undismayed by universal
rejection, unfaltering in spite of the curling lips of incredulity and
scorn, unbroken by the near approach of certain martyrdom, He presents
Himself before the world as its Light. Nothing in the history of mad,
fanatical claims to inspiration and divine authority is to be compared
with these assertions of our Lord. He is the fontal Source, He says, of
all illumination; He stands before the whole race, and claims to be
'the Master-Light of all our seeing.' Whatsoever ideas of clearness of
knowledge, of rapture of joy, of whiteness of purity, are symbolised by
that great emblem, He declares that He manifests them all to men.
Others may shine; but they are, as He said, 'lights kindled,' and
therefore 'burning.' Others may shine, but they have caught their
radiance from Him. All teachers, all helpers, all thinkers draw their
inspiration, if they have any, from Him, in whom was life, and the Life
was the Light of men.
There has been blazing in the heavens of late a new star, that burst
upon astonished astronomers in a void spot; but its brilliancy, though
far transcending that of our sun, soon began to wane, and before long,
apparently, there will be blackness again where there was blackness
before. So all lights but His are temporary as well as derived, and men
'willing for a season to rejoice' in the fleeting splendours, and to
listen to the teacher of a day, lose the illumination of his presence
and guidance of his thoughts as the ages roll on. But _the_ Light is
'not for an age, but for all time.'
Now, brethren, this is Christ's estimate of Himself. I dwell not on it
for the purpose of seeking to exhaust its depth of significance. In it
there lies the assertion that He, and He only, is the source of all
valid knowledge of the deepest sort concerning God and men, and their
mutual relations. In it lie the assertion that He, and He only, is the
source of all true gladness that may blend with our else darkened
lives, and the further assertion that from Him, and from Him alone, can
flow to us the purity that shall make us pure. We have to turn to that
Man close by His Cross, on whom while He spoke the penumbra of the
eclipse of death was beginning to show itself, and to say to Him what
the Psalmist said of old to the Jehovah whom he knew, and whom we
recognise as indwelling in Jesus: 'With Thee is the fountain of life.
Thou makest us to drink of the river of Thy pleasures. In Thy light
shall we see light.'
So Christ thought of Himself; so Christ would have as to think of Him.
And it becomes a question for us how, if we refuse to accept that claim
of a solitary, underived, eternal, and universal power of illuminating
mankind, we can save His character for the veneration of the world. We
cannot go picking and choosing amongst the Master's words, and say
'This is historical, and that mythical.' We cannot select some of them,
and leave others on one side. You must take the whole Christ if you
take any Christ. And the whole Christ is He who, within sight of
Calvary, and in the face of all but universal rejection, lifted up His
voice, and, as His valediction to the world, declared, 'I am the Light
of the world.' So He says to us. Oh that we all might cast ourselves
before Him, with the cry, 'Lighten our darkness, O Lord, we beseech
Thee!'