Pauls's Epistle to the Ephesians
Chapter Sixteen
CHRIST GIVING LIGHT.
"And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them. For it is a shame even to speak of those things which are done of them in secret. But all things that are reproved are made manifest by the light: for whatsoever doth make manifest is light. Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light."- EPH. v. 11-14.

THE contrast is remarkable between "the fruit of the light" (ver. 9) and "the unfruitful works of the darkness" (ver. 11). The light is fruitful. The works of the darkness are unfruitful. The darkness works as if trying to be fruitful; and its works are manifold, as is here indicated. But they are all dead works; having in them no element of life or fruitfulness; but only the sentence of death, and the character which deserves and entails death. The light has fruit, large and abundant fruit; it works fruitfully; and is rich in fruit-bearing, "its fruit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth." That is a fruitful working. These are fruitful works; fruitful of life and beauty and immortal joy. The darkness also works;- alas, too energetically! But its works are unfruitful. They are, like the darkness which produces them, not creative but destructive; not life-giving and life-inspiring, but deadly; barren of all vitality; dead and unfruitful. "What fruit had ye then in these things whereof ye are now ashamed? For the end of these things is death" (Eom. vi. 21). Therefore "have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove them" (ver. 11). Either reprove them; although, as the apostle seems to intimate (ver. 12), some of them are unfit to be reproved, if the reproving of them implies speaking of them. And, indeed, as I think, he points to a way of reproving all of them, that does not, at least necessarily, imply speaking of them; but rather, perhaps, for the most part, the opposite. Reprove them, these works of darkness. But remember that, done in secret as they are, they are most of them, if not all of them, so shameful, that it is contamination to speak of them; or think of them as matter of speech. Is there then any other, or safer, way of reproving them, putting them, to shame in others, and getting rid of them as apt to become shameful to yourselves?

Yes! The light reproves them. The light itself will do so, by its own proper virtue and power, if it gets fair play and has full scope; if it shines in you, and through you, and from you; if you let it so shine, and interpose no hindrance in its way. The true meaning of the passage is explained in the following note by ALFORD in loco - "But all things, being reproved, are made manifest by the light; for everything which is made manifest is light." The meaning is, "The light of your Christian life, which will be your reproof shed upon these works of darkness (ver. 12), will bring them out of the category of darkness, into light" You yourselves were thus 'once darkness,' but having been 'reproved' by God's Spirit, you have become 'light in the Lord.' .... It is not the fact of 'being made manifest,' that Paul insists on; but the fact that if Christians, being themselves light in the Lord, reproved the works of darkness, these would become no longer works of darkness, but would be made manifest or discovered by the light. Hence we should read,'whatever is made manifest.' Everything which is made manifest is no longer darkness, but light; and thus you will be, not compromised to these works of darkness, but making an inroad upon the territory of darkness with the armour of light. Thus it reproves by making manifest; it convicts by discovery. It shows things as they really are; it makes men see what they are really doing. And that is much ; it may be everything; to dispel all mists, and expose the naked truth. Whatsoever is thus made manifest becomes light.

Therefore that being so, seeing that there is so much depending on our being light in the Lord, the saying is welcome - "Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light" (ver. 14). And in another view also it is welcome. For it meets the case. There is life in the light; the life of reality; the life of a capacity to see and know and appreciate the real. Therefore, wherever the light is, it is a call to life: "Wherefore he saith, Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light" (ver. 14). It is not quite clear who is spoken of as saying this, or from whence the words are taken. I would not be disinclined to take it, as the original admits of its being taken, as the call of the light: Wherefore it (the light) saith :- and so it would not be a quotation at all. If any Old Testament text in particular is here quoted, it must be that in Isaiah,-"Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee. For, behold, the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people: but the Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory shall be seen upon thee" (Isa. Ix. 1, 2).

The mutual relations of light and life, .in the spiritual sphere or economy, are not easily adjusted; they interlace one another; and, as it were, reduplicate upon one another; light giving life; and life again being the condition of light. So it is in John's preface to his Gospel: and so apparently it is here also. But we have here to deal with the difficulty quite practically. It is not the intercommunion of light and life as received, but their mutual connection as going forth from him and from us in him, that is here brought before us. This will appear more clearly as we illustrate and enforce the saying,-"Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light" (ver. 14).

1. It would seem to be assumed here that you desire to have light; or, literally, to be enlightened or shone upon. You were once darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord. And you would fain be so more and more. You have come to the light because you are doers of the truth. You no longer love darkness, the darkness of concealment, disguise, and guile, to hide your evil doing, or make it appear less evil, in the view of your own conscience at least, if not in the view of God's righteous judgment. You have been made willing to face the light, the light of honest truth, of full discovery, of actual reality. You would have all your works, your whole spiritual state and character, all things in you and about you, to be seen as they really are, by God, by yourselves, by all men. And therefore you wish and long to have more light; to be more thoroughly brought to the light; to he more intimately penetrated and pervaded hy the light; to be more clearly and brightly shone upon and shone into. This is what you earnestly desire; because you do not desire to have any of your works to be such as need, or court, the darkness; and because moreover you desire that all works of darkness, whether in yourselves or in others, should be made manifest and reproved; or, in other words, should be seen to be what they really are.

2. Is this your case? Is this the spirit of your mind? It must be so if you are no more what you once were, darkness, if you are now light in the Lord. But then, because it is so, and in very proportion as it is so, you become painfully sensible of danger in consequence of the darkness, which you once were, continually pressing in upon the light which now you are. For though you are not now darkness yourselves ; though darkness is not now either your atmosphere or your nature; either the medium through which, or the organ by which, you look at things in their moral and spiritual aspects: nevertheless you are to remember that the darkness is still here; that it is near you, is ever seeking and striving to get into you again. In plain terms, you are still always surrounded and plied by temptations to the world's way of estimating and judging in such matters. And as that was once your own way, so you cannot but feel that it is apt sometimes and to some extent to become your way again.

The beginning of evil here needs to be carefully watched; for it may be a very insidious, and very plausible, wile of the evil one. Thus, in the first instance, it may be a brother's practices that you are considering; a beloved Christian brother's walk and conduct. Dear as he is in your esteem, and in many things exemplary before all men, you cannot altogether shut your eyes to certain failings and inconsistencies in his manner of life ; occasional acts of worldly indulgence; customary instances of worldly conformity; things said or done by him that you cannot but regret. Ah, how strong is the inducement to cast over them the mantle of your charity, your charitable construction, your charitable indulgence and allowance. Brought to the light, the clear light of an open Bible and a single eye, a holy law and a gracious Gospel, they would at once be seen in their true colours; and being so seen, they would be faithfully condemned. Being manifested to be what they truly are, they would at once become light, themselves light, as seen in light, light, a blaze of light, that would leave no room for hesitancy or halting. Your friend would be timeously startled. Whether he might choose the one side or the other, he would at least be made to face the clear and sharp alternative before him. And you, at any rate, would deliver your own soul. Alas, for the sad weakness that leads you to suffer sin upon a brother! Alas for the almost certain danger of your thus coming, but too soon and too easily, to suffer sin in yourselves!

Take another instance. Let the man with whom you are familiar be a reputable and amiable man of the world, or one who passes current and has credit for being so. In him you may most probably discover - or of him you may hear - worse things than you had to deal with in the former case; fashionable follies, fashionable vices; loose principles avowed; loose practices followed and defended. All this shocks you no doubt. You condemn and protest. Alas, your condemnation may grow faint; your protest very feeble! He is not what you would wish him to be, a Christian; he is not perhaps in all respects such as you might expect him to be as a pure, upright, honourable member of society. But then you must not judge him too harshly, or believe the worst you are told about him. You may surely attach some value and give some weight to the explanations and apologies that may be offered. And for his own sake, with a view to your influencing him for good, you may continue to be on terms of intimacy with him; and, under due restraints and precautions of course, to frequent with him the scenes and the society in which he is at home. And what may follow ?

Too soon you may find yourselves, almost before you are aware of it, half-unconsciously perhaps, taking the tone and catching the style of the world; learning to speak about many things as the world speaks about them; to treat them lightly; to tolerate foolish jesting about them as not perhaps quite convenient in a serious hour, but not very censurable when unbending and liberty is the order of the day. You may have a shrewd suspicion, a secret persuasion, that all this is an evading of the light; that it is letting in darkness to disturb and distort your spiritual vision j that it is the eye becoming evil; the light in you becoming darkness. But a sort of spell is upon you; a subtle fascination paralyses you. You linger on; with what likelihood of your making others really Christians, or continuing to be yourselves in a real Christian frame of mind, let melancholy experience attest. It is dark unreality all of it.

3. In such circumstances, at such a crisis, let the startling trumpet call be heard: "Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead." Is it not a word in season? It does not come a moment too soon. For you are sleeping when you come to think and feel thus. Sleeping; yes, and dreaming; dreaming of peace and safety when sudden destruction is all but coming upon you; dreaming of life when you are at the point of death. Yes! It is a deadly sleep to which you are surrendering yourselves, a dream that if not instantly dispelled may soon be fatal. Is it not so? Must you not confess, do you not feel it to be so, if anything like the process described is going on in your experience; and in what spiritual experience has it not a place ?

It is a perilous slumber; a lethargy like that of one shutting his eyes in the snow wreath; a sleep that admits of no delicate handling. It must be rudely, roughly, abruptly, and violently interrupted and broken. It is not a case for reasoning, or remonstrance, or pleading. There has been too much pleading already. It has got to be special pleading. The only remedy is the loud voice of peremptory command; Arise, awake, thou sleeper ; ere thy sleep become to thee the sleep of death.

Servant of the Lord, thou art sleeping in thy work! Watchman for the Lord, thou art sleeping on thy tower! Soldier of the cross, thou art sleeping at thy post! Witness for the truth, thy trumpet has ceased to sound, as it falls in thy sleep from thy relaxing hand! Prisoner of hope, but now rescued from the pit, thou art sleeping in thy flight to the stronghold! Escaped, and scarcely escaped, from the corruption that is in the city, thou art tarrying in the plain, looking back, falling asleep in the dark and drowsy atmosphere of the smoke of Sodom! It is no time, no case, for dallying. The Lord lay his strong hand on thee and cause his thunder to be heard. "Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead."

Does this sound like exaggeration? None will say or think so who have any experimental knowledge of the stealthy manner in which the sore malady of spiritual sloth creeps over the soul. I have indicated in part what may be, and often is, its origin and first stages. It may come, as a pestilential haze, from the bewildering mists of outward worldly society. Or it may rise rather from within, from the inner depths of an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God. Either way, the symptom is for the most part the same. There is the loss of clear honest vision; our ceasing in some points to see light in God's light; our letting in some of the shades of sense and sin, to colour more or less, with their misleading hues, the objects we have to look on.

And for the most part also the effect is the same. It is to depress and deaden spiritual vitality, and to superinduce a suspension, as I might say, of spiritual animation. For all darkness tends to sleep, and to sleep which may end in death. When. I begin, therefore, again to see things darkly; spiritual things; such as sin, judgment, duty, law, grace, holiness, glory; to see them, not in their true light, as they really are, as God sees them; but under the disturbing influence of the world's false notions, or my own unbelieving doubts; when, instead of being seen in broad, sharp, well-defined outline, and strong, clear, unmistakable relief, admitting of no confusion, no sliding or shading into one another; when, instead of that, they become dim, shadowy, doubtful, indistinct; I cannot choose but begin to fall asleep. My eyelids grow heavy; my senses uncertain; my limbs unsteady. I struggle for a little with the growing listlessness; and then, slowly yielding, drop into more or less comfortable insensibility.

Is this my case now? Have I been in that lethargic state long? Or am I only now coming to be in it? Can any call be too loud and peremptory? What can save me but instant decision? Let the horrid nightmare be shaken off; let the accursed spell be broken. Let me hear the call as if it were the last resurrection call "Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead."

4. "And Christ shall give thee light;" a powerful motive surely; a great inducement and encouragement. It is so, all the more, when the full meaning of the promise is brought out. It is not merely Christ shall give thee light; but rather, Christ shall make thee light. (Even that way of putting it does not exhaust or adequately express the thought. Christ shall shine upon thee ; in thee ; through thee ; making thee all luminous ; luminous all over, as he is himself. The thought still turns on what is said, "Ye were once darkness, but now are ye light in the Lord" (ver. 8). There is however, as it were, a step in advance.)

Ye are light in the Lord, is the statement in the one verse. Christ the Lord shall himself shine over you, into you, in you, and from you, making you all light; is the promise in the other. It is a glorious promise, and one that may well reconcile you to whatever effort of decisive self-denial and self-assertion may be required of you at the sounding of the alarm: "Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead." It is God who speaks, and he speaks on behalf of his Son -"I summon you to an immediate awakening out of sleep that is dangerous, and may be deadly. And I do so all the more peremptorily, as well as all the more persuasively, because here is my Anointed, ready and waiting to give you light, to lighten you, to make you altogether light." Plainly, it is the light of renewed spiritual discernment, of holy insight and sympathy, and the manifestation of truth in love, that is here promised; the light of a renewed capacity for seeing as God sees, judging as God judges, feeling as God feels, with reference to all things. It is with that ligtht that he illuminates us. It is that light which he is himself. Surely there is here great comfort to him who hears the call : Awake.

Thou dost not awake and arise to see and shine by any light of thine own. That experiment perhaps thou hast tried before now, and tried more than once ; the experiment, I mean, of seeking to rouse thyself out of the sleep of spiritual darkness and deadness, by a forced awakening, as it wetre, to thyself; a reassertion of thy position as light in the Lord. The experiment has failed. For it is not by a return; to thyself that any backsliding of thine is to be healed. ; If thou hast left thy first love, it is not by going back to past that thou art to regain it. Thou canst not thus recover lost experience, or re-occupy a past position. No. All is present and future. Your past state is not to be recalled ; but Christ's grace is now to be realised.
And what grace! He is to shine on you and make you shine in him. He is to overshine and overshadow you with his own light, and to be himself light in you. Not only are you to be light in him ; he is to be your light; around and in you. Nor is there anything that should be mystical or incomprehensible in this assurance, thus understood. For, after all, the light is simply the light of truth. It is seeing things as they really are, and showing them accordingly; seeing them and showing as God sees and shows them. It is discovery, manifestation, unreserved and without guile. It is daring to look at all persons and things in their true character, and call them all by their right names.

But, nevertheless, it is a difficult attainment; all the more if I have to recover that standing after even a partial and doubtful loss of it. To work myself back again, and up again, into that tenderness of conscience; that quick sensitiveness of moral feeling; that prompt spiritual discernment; that transparent openness of mind and heart, which I once had; or to get it now as I now see it to be so needful, may be a hard task. If I seek to master it by a self-moving effort, by working in and upon myself, I may fail. But here is Christ. He can never fail me. It is with him and not with myself that I am to deal. It is he who is to be my light, and to make me his light. It is he who is to shine on me and in me and through me. Awaking from sleep, rising from the dead, at his trumpet call, let me anew, whether for the fiftieth or the first time, have him as my light; illuminating, irradiating, all in me and all that goes from me.

Let me anew accept him as the light of the world; as my light. For when he is the light in which I see all things, I may venture to see them as they really are, and not as my conscience burdened with guilt, and my corrupt heart, would incline me to see them. I can dare to face the light honestly and with singleness of eye, when he is the light; he, whose blood cleanseth from all sin, and whose spirit sanctifies from all uncleanness.

And let me be light in him; myself light as he is light, he in whom is no darkness at all. Let me be his light before men, as he is my light before the Father. Let me rise to the full height of my calling to be light in the Lord to have the Lord to be light in me. Christ lightens me. Dwelling in my heart by faith, as I am strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man, he makes that whole inner man light; clear, searching light; searching like a candle all that is in me; suffering nothing that will not bear the light; letting no lurking thought of evil escape its scrutiny in any dark recess, penetrating into every nook and corner; dragging out for full discovery and faithful condemnation and prompt execution and destruction every hidden root of bitterness which might spring up to trouble me. So may the entrance of thy words give light, 0 Christ! So do thou thyself, as the light in me, search me and see if there be any wicked way in me. So lighten my darkness that there may be nothing in me that the light reproves. Then, being thus shone in upon by thee, all in me being light, I may shine, or rather thou through me, as thy light in the world. The clear, consistent outshining of the light that is in me; which is thyself, O Christ, thyself in me the hope of glory, thyself living in me; will then indeed reprove all works of darkness, causing them to be seen to be what they really are. Thy presence, when thou wast here on earth, broke in upon all earth's darkness. Beneath that calm, holy look of thine, no dark disguise could lurk. Where thou didst come, where thou didst speak, where thou didst act, men were forced to know themselves and their works, of what sort they were. Self-convicted before thy pure truth and love, they gave in to thee, or went away ashamed. Oh, that I thy servant after thy example, and having thee dwelling in me by thy Spirit, may be thus in a measure what thou wast, the light of the world; having no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reproving them; reproving them by my walk as a child of the light, of that light whose fruit is in all goodness and righteousness and truth.

I have taken this call as addressed to those who are children of light; who profess to be so; and the truth of whose profession the apostle does not call in question. But it is applicable to you also, who have not that character; and very specially it is applicable to those of you who are weary of the darkness and its works, and are groping for light. To you it offers Christ. To you, as you are, not light at all, but very and thorough darkness, it presents and gives Christ. He will enlighten you. He will so shine upon you and in you as to turn all your darkness into most joyous light. Only awake, arise; for he, thy light, is come; come to thee; come for thee. Awake, arise, for the shining of this light.

Do not wait till all is clear before awaking and arising to meet and welcome and embrace Christ. He will give you light; he will make you light; he will shine and cause you to shine. Not, however, before you hear and obey the call; but in your hearing it; in your obeying it. You could not expect, you could scarcely desire or wish, him to do so otherwise. The call is to you as sitting in darkness; sleeping, alas! the sleep of death. Do not ask that the darkness should be dispelled before you comply with the call. Do not make that a preliminary condition or qualification. Here is Christ; himself all light; ready to make you all light in him. Awake! Arise! In thy darkness, dense as it may be and hopeless as it may seem; in the darkness of thy guilt and misery; in the darkness of thy deep despondency; in the darkness of thy manifold doubts, anxieties, and fears; in the darkness of utter self-despair : Awake! Arise! Christ will make all clear.

Returning to you who are children of light, let me again remind you of your danger as living amid the darkness of this world and witnessing its works of darkness. The prophet Isaiah had experienced something of this danger in the year that king Uzziah died, before he saw the Lord. He had been growing insensible to the uncleanness even of his own lips, as well as to the uncleanness of the lips of the people among whom he dwelt. Familiarity with their words and works of darkness had blunted the edge of his conscientious sensitiveness and spiritual feeling, as a child of light. The things he heard and saw in the society in which he mingled, and could not but mingle, ceased more or less to appear to him in their true character and colours; to present themselves to him as they really were. The disguises and devices of dark special pleading cast a veil or a gloss over them, so that they did not startle or disgust or offend or alarm him as they used to do. Speedily he began to suffer in his own soul. The line of demarcation between good and evil ceased to be distinct and sharp; it became shadowy, hazy, wavering. Sin in himself, as well as sin in others, was not seen or felt to be so exceeding sinful as once it was. Dark refuges of lies were tempting him to hide himself from the light of truth; from the face of him who is light. In such a state, he could not be a reprover of the world's works of darkness, either by open lips or silent life. His power of rebuke as a child of light was paralysed and gone. But the voice said, "Awake thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead." Shake thyself from the dust.

Awake, arise, enter into the holy place! Within the veil; enter, bloodsprinkled anew; enter and behold a great sight. He saw the Lord. He saw the glory of Christ. He saw Christ dwelling between the cherubim over the mercy seat; shining forth, the Shepherd of Israel. Then it was all light light terribly bright; light making all things light; his own uncleanness and the people's. There is no escape now under the cover of any dark deception. The child of light is smitten down. Himself and his lips; the people and their lips ! Ah, there is no darkness now about them; all are light. Woe is me, for I am undone.
Blessed, thrice blessed, undoneness, this undoneness at the sight of the King the Lord of Hosts; for it is true and real, not vain and false; true and real conviction, not a false and vain delusion; light altogether and not darkness at all!

Blessed indeed is such undoneness! For in the very crisis of it bright grace comes. The light reveals the altar, and the sacrifice, and the fire, and the ministering Spirit taking of the fire, and touching the lips. And there is revived feeling; no deadness any more, but life as he hears the words of love: "Thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged." Then is he again fitted to be a reprover of the works of darkness. Then he listens to the summons, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" Thea he may venture to volunteer -"Here am I, send me."
Go To Chapter Seventeen

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