Cave.

We declare to you, what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at, and touched with our hand, concerning the word of life. – 1 John 1:1

One of the most well-known dialogues of Socrates from Plato’s Republic is the Allegory of the Cave. It goes something like this. A group of men are chained to a cave wall in such a way that all they can see are shadows of the world above them projected by a fire. One day a man breaks free of the cave and climbs out seeing for the first time the world as it is, the warmth of the fire, the brightness of sun, the earth in its diversity. After a time, he returns to the cave and begins to share the story of his experiences, what he heard, saw, and touched. Socrates asks the question, “If he were to return and they were not to believe him, ridicule him, and possibly kill him, was it worth it to go up?”

The apostles and the first hearers of the Resurrection were faced with the same question. Having experienced the crucified and risen Christ, can they go back to the world that they knew before? Having weighed the risk of their message, would they instead choose to be chained in the darkness? This is a recurring theme throughout the New Testament from the rich man who goes away sad and the disciples who turned away after Jesus said, “I am the bread of life,” to the early Christians who debated keeping the practices of the Mosaic law. From these writings, the questions are passed to us. Will we live what we have experienced? Will we tell what we have seen and heard having been transformed by the resurrection of Christ?

Sometimes, I wonder if it is all too easy to hide in the church, to use the rituals and memorized prayers to prevent us from encountering Jesus who calls us into a real fellowship with him and the people that he loves. The rituals and prayers are meant to facilitate the meeting, not to shield us from him. Hiding behind the locked doors of the church, we are exposed only to the incomplete shadows and receive only incomplete joy that God intends for us to be gifted with in its fullness in the crucified and risen Lord.

The one who suffered and was risen, Jesus, the Christ, comes to us. He calls us by name, breaks through doors, meets us where we are, frees us from the chains that we fashion for ourselves, and raises us to the new and complete life that he has won for us. Not only for us does he come, but for the whole world. We no longer have to be confined by shadows, but life abundantly in the light of the world that he reveals. The God who forgives us. The God who loves us. The God who calls us to walk in the light and see the world as it was intended to be from the beginning. The crucified and risen Lord is our light. To cling to him is to see his risen radiance and be set free forever.