Jesus and the Ceremony of Light

lights
Image by VIVIANE M. from Pixabay

Jesus wasn’t done shocking the crowds with his comments during the Water Ceremony during the Feast of Tabernacles. He had something else to say about himself at the conclusion of the feast’s Ceremony of Light.

The Feast of Tabernacles started on the fifteenth day of the seventh month. For the first seven days, worshippers lived in leafy booths they’d prepared for the occasion. At the end of the week, they disassembled their tabernacles and returned to permanent dwellings. On the eighth, and “last great day of the feast,” they finished off with a “holy convocation” or special Sabbath. (Leviticus 23:34–43)

Rituals in the Ceremony of Light

All during the feast, four towering lampstands stood in the temple’s Court of the Women. Each evening, four young men climbed to their seventeen-foot tops to trim and then light each stand’s lamps. They produced so much light that they seemed to illuminate all of Jerusalem. As light blazed from above, torch-bearing men spun and danced through the courtyard below.

This was the ceremony of light—part of the joyous Feast of Tabernacles.

Light, especially in such an explosive display, was meant to celebrate the Shekinah glory of God—the visible, radiant manifestation of his presence. The flames and torches of the night expressed their gratitude for the fiery guidance and protection of God’s Spirit.

The lights reminded them of the glory that filled the tabernacle in the wilderness, appearing as a column of fire by night and cloud by day. It replicated the Shekinah of 2 Chronicles 5:14—a glory that stopped the priests from ministering at the dedication of Solomon’s temple. It was the same Spirit of God in Genesis 1:1–3 who hovered over the face of the waters before breathing out the words, “Let there be light.”

But each morning, as dawn glowed on the horizon, the young men climbed the ladders again to extinguish the lights for the day. The final snuffing of the lamps in the morning of the eighth day must have held a note of melancholy. It was as though darkness would once more rule the night until next year’s Feast of Tabernacles.

The Morning After

At the end of the eighth day, Jesus and his disciples spent the night on the Mount of Olives, where they had likely been bivouacking all week. The next morning, he returned to the temple and resumed his teaching ministry. (See John 8:1–11)

The elders, probably still fuming from Jesus’ outburst during yesterday’s water ceremony, shoved forward a woman caught in adultery. They exposed her as a sinner and challenged Jesus to admit she deserved stoning.

Jesus told them that the rock-throwing should be started by the sinless among them. One by one, they turned away as the lights came on in their hearts. Those wheels of justice they set in motion for the woman might not stop with her. They might keep on rolling toward them.

Jesus and the Ceremony of Light

With the lampstands of the courtyard so recently darkened, Jesus took the opportunity to reassure them the Ceremony of Light spoke of greater things. The earthly celebration might be over for now, but darkness would not have the last say. He was the source of the glory they celebrated. “I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life” (John 8:12).

No. The brilliance of God’s countenance, the radiance of his Holy Spirit, would never stop shining on them. Or on us. Because he is the Great I AM.

 “I AM the light that hovered over the dark waters of the earth’s beginnings. I AM the light shining into men’s souls. I AM the lamp for your feet and the light for your path. I AM the one who will lead you in ways you have not known, making darkness light before you and crooked places straight” (Psalm 119:105, Isaiah 42:16).

Jesus breaks forth mightily upon us in both the water and light of the Feast of Tabernacles. Pouring out from above and welling up from within, he illuminates our way. And one day, when the temporary tents of our bodies give way to our forever home with the Father, he will be our final dwelling place with God.

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