
There are times in life when you really need a light. Driving home from Brisbane through last night’s intense rainstorms, as an east coast low sat stationery over the central coast, I was increasingly grateful for my own car’s headlights, the hazard lights of other cars, and those little “cat’s eyes” embedded in the motorway, as I crawled along in very low visibility, trying to avoid other vehicles, water over the road, and other possible dangers such as fallen trees.
At one point I even turned off my Richmal Crompton audiobook to give my full attention to the road ahead. It would haven impossible to proceed without the presence of light.
But light can also be a metaphor. We speak of a “light-bulb moment,” the instant when something suddenly “clicks” and we experience clarity, insight and recognition all at once.
The season of the Christian year called Epiphany conveys the same idea: a moment of piercing awareness, a sudden jolt of understanding, stretched out over a period of time as we celebrate the revelation of Jesus, the Light of the world in the visit of the Magi, his baptism by John, and the wedding at Cana. In each of these events, we catch sight of the uniqueness of Jesus, the Son of God, the Messiah.
There’s also a missional dimension to Epiphany. Jesus, the Light of the world, calls us to let our light shine before others (Mt. 5:14-16). Drawn by the light of his star, as we saw last week, the Magi came and signalled the universal scope of his mission, where the nations come to worship the King of kings. Epiphany calls us to live out the mission of God, announcing the good news of the arrival of Jesus to every culture, and especially to our neighbours across the street, bearing the light of Jesus to the nations and to those who share a home with us. We, the church, are sent out as the manifestation of Jesus to a watching world.[1]
At the centre of our growing awareness of Jesus, as he is revealed in the four Gospels, is the way in which he announces, embodies and enacts the arrival of the kingdom of God among us. The kingdom of God is not first a theory, a political program, or a religious mood. It is the reign of God breaking into human history: announced, embodied, and enacted in the person of Jesus.
When Jesus declares, “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12), he is not offering a poetic metaphor for private spirituality. He is announcing the nature of the kingdom: God’s active rule arriving as truth revealed, exposing sin, restoring creation, and forming a new community defined by the light.
In many of the biblical narratives, light is an agent. In the beginning, before any human obedience, before any culture or temple, God speaks into the void, “Let there be light” (Gen 1:3). The presence of light is the first sign that God is at work, bringing order to darkness and chaos. When Jesus declares that he is the “Light of the world,” he stands in that same tradition. The kingdom of God begins where God speaks a word again into the darkness, and we begin to perceive the light.
Darkness is not just a sign of what we don’t know. It may be a sign that things are not right, that reality is distorted, that malevolence is about. We need more than information, more than guidance. We need rescue from the lies we tell ourselves about God, about our neighbors, and about the quality of our innate goodness.
Light confronts the misinformation, distortions, and lies. The light that Jesus brings exposes our false kingdoms: kingdoms of ego, fear, violence, reputation, and control. But it does not leave us there. It enlightens us from within, rights our wrongs, banishes the darkness, and reveals the path ahead. The Fourth Gospel declares that “the light shines in the darkness, and yet the darkness did not overcome it” (Jn 1:5).
The kingdom of God is not an optimistic slogan about social progress. It is the actual victory of the life of God over the spiritual death we cannot conquer by ourselves. The presence of Jesus in the story of the Bible marks the arrival of the kingdom of God, the in-breaking of the life and love of another world into our world. Where Jesus heals, the kingdom is near. Where he forgives, the kingdom takes root. Where he eats with the marginalised, the kingdom is already rearranging the social order.
But not everyone loves this light. There are some who contest its authenticity, or deny its effects. Some of us are attracted to the light of the world, and others are offended by it. Some of us rejoice because we are well aware that we have been living in shadow, and we are weary of pretending. Others recoil from the light as it does its work, because the light threatens what we have tried to protect or excuse.
John puts it bluntly: “The light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than the light because their deeds were evil” (Jn 3:19).
Yes, the light of Jesus is a judgment, and that can be uncomfortable, but it is the judgment of a doctor who identifies the disease in order to enable healing. And Jesus really does heal, and restore, and renew. The light of the kingdom confronts personal sin, but it also confronts the systems we create in the darkness. The light of Jesus exposes exploitation justified as success, cruelty defended as realism, prejudice sanctified by tradition.
Notice also that Jesus does not say, “I am the Light of Israel,” but “I am the Light of the world.” The kingdom of God is not a tribal possession or a project for spiritual elites. It is God reclaiming all that is his. We don’t own the light: we simply bear witness to it; we reflect the light of our crucified and risen Lord, as the moon reflects the light of the sun.
This brings us back to Epiphany, illumination, enlightenment. But you may be thinking, “Of all the spiritual lights available to us, how can you be sure that Jesus is the true light?” It is true that not all paths to salvation lead to the light, but there are ways to discern what is true and good. Here are four ways:
1. Does it offer salvation by grace, or self-salvation by effort?
If the message is ultimately “save yourself,” it may inspire for a season, but it cannot transform you. True freedom begins with what Jesus has done, not what you can achieve.
2. Does it take sin seriously, or rationalise the problem?
Many teachings diagnose the human problem as “lack of knowledge.” The good news about Jesus names the deeper issue we all face: sin, guilt, and separation from God.
3. Does it take Scripture seriously, or cherry-picked quotes?
False teaching often uses Bible words with non-biblical meanings. True teaching fits the whole story: creation → fall → redemption → new creation.
4. Does it hold up under suffering, or collapse when life hurts?
Real truth isn’t only convincing when life is easy. The Light of Jesus shines in darkness, not only in comfort.
And here are four traps to beware of when seeking enlightenment:
1. Enlightenment without repentance
This is spirituality that wants insight but not surrender. It promises peace without confronting sin, light without the cross.
2. The self as saviour
Any path that makes your inner strength the key to salvation will eventually crush you; it will either lead to pride or despair.
3. Feelings as truth
A powerful emotional experience can be real—but it is not automatically true. Some things feel freeing at first but lead to bondage later.
4. Secret knowledge and spiritual elitism
This is the “I’ve discovered what ordinary people don’t know” trap. It breeds pride, paranoia, isolation, and manipulation, and it is often a mark of false teaching.
There are times in life when you really need a light. When it comes to spiritual enlightenment, God has not left us in the dark. God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, the Light of the world, to bring light to our darkness.
Follow Jesus.
Sermon 845 copyright © 2026 Rod Benson. Preached at North Rocks Community Church, Sydney, Australia, on Sunday 18 January 2026. Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from The Christian Standard Bible (Nashville: Holman Bible Publishers, 2020).
Reference
[1] Source: https://seekinggodsface.org/seasons/epiphany
Image source: radical.net
