Festivals. Parades. Masks. And fear. Winding through villages. And megacities.
Fear of any and every name. Except the Name that is above all others.
Our family sojourns for a season in South Asia. Amidst this colorful darkness. And its reality weighs heavy on my soul.
Paul’s experience in Athens hits home.
“Now while Paul was waiting for them at Athens, his spirit was being provoked within him as he was observing the city full of idols.”
Acts 17:16
Feast of color
For several years, we live in a sprawling urban area of 26 million. Historic city on the subcontinent.
Our home is a second-floor flat on a relatively quiet street. Off the main road.
The feast of color surprises me. Every day. On city streets. In local markets. Showing up, despite ever-present dust and weighty pollution.
Brightly-hued clothing. Mounds of spices—orange, red, yellow. Carpets and paintings. Exquisite designs.
Beautiful.
Festivals
Lively music floats through the air. Blasts from motor rickshaws, buses. Fills the religious celebrations taking place throughout the year.
We live down the street from a neighborhood community center. And feel the festival drum beats in our flat.
There’s a party going on. Always.
A colorful party.
Parade
One evening the sound of a marching band catches our attention. We stand out on the balcony and watch. Not one, but four bands pass by.
Interspersed between these roll brightly-lit floats. Actors perform dramas on moving stages. Loudspeakers broadcast for all to hear.
The parade continues down the narrow street of our ordinary neighborhood. Camels. Elephants. Brilliantly uniformed riders mounted on white horses.
All passing beneath our balcony.
After a while, we notice. On most stages there’s a central figure. His skin, painted blue.
Then, we know. The long and colorful procession honors Shiva. One of many gods worshiped in this city.
Masks
Across the street from our flat, a new apartment building is under construction. Clean lines, modern design. Grey and silver.
Simply elegant. Except for the small wooden mask carefully placed on the side of the building. Painted red and black.
A colorful but hideous mask. Mounted as protection from evil spirits. On morning walks, I count other similar masks on unfinished buildings around the neighborhood.
And whenever I stand on our balcony, I see that mask. Directly in front of me. A visible reminder of the unseen battle.
The fear that prevails when people are walking in the dark.
Watch and pray
Festivals. Parades. Masks. It’s a colorful darkness. But it is darkness.
So, as I go for morning walks in the dust. Or pass through streets and alleys on my way to the market, I watch. And pray.
Along the way I see numerous signs. Of ongoing worship.
Large temples with marble steps and elaborately carved walls and doors. Smaller temples tucked between shops.
Altars set up under trees. Idols lining special shelves in stores and at the door of our favorite restaurant. Offerings on street corners.
Reflecting on this troubling map of our neighborhood, I turn again to Paul’s sojourn in Athens.
Unknown God
A group of philosophers hear Paul preaching the good news about Jesus and the Resurrection. In the marketplace. They call him a “babbler.”
But hey, they could talk about and listen to the latest ideas all day long. So they invite him to a meeting on Mars’ Hill. To share his strange teaching.
Paul notes the Athenians’ very religious ways. And singles out one specific altar with this inscription: “To an Unknown God.” He proceeds to describe Who that is.
“The God who made the world and everything in it—
He is Lord of heaven and earth
—does not live in shrines made by hands. Neither is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to everyone
life and breath and all things.”
Acts 17:23-25
This God cannot be “like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by the art and thought of man” (Acts 17:29)
Seek and find
Earlier, Paul shared the gospel. Now he finishes his speech on the hill with strong words. A challenge.
“God now commands all people everywhere to repent.” Judgment is coming. By the One He appointed, by raising Him from the dead. (Acts 17:30-31)
He loses some of them at that point. Others want to hear more.
But a few. A few turn from their idols and philosophies and heady arguments. They choose to follow Christ.
Worthy of our worship
Today His servants walk in places of colorful darkness. Sharing the Truth. The Name above every other name. The One and Only God worthy of our worship.
And we pray. For “all people everywhere to repent.”
He calls people out of the dark. Into His marvelous light.
They cross over from death to life. Exchanging fear for the peace that surpasses understanding.
And begin worshiping the God they can know. Mystery gloriously revealed.
What about you?
Where do you see “colorful darkness” in your neighborhood or city? What is your prayer for those who live in fear?
Related posts
To the ends of the earth – Resilience – Come and see – Lost – Redeemed – Unmapped – Keep singing – Night flight – Take up His yoke – Brokenness – Dust – The mystery of the gospel –
11 replies on “Colorful darkness”
Your description of ND put me right back in the heart of India. I could see every scene, hear the music, feel the dust, and even smell the “aromas.”I had just read RN’s e-mail about the covid-death of one of our church planters in Karnataka (sp?). I am haunted by living tragedy. What to do? Lord, I pray………
Thanks for sharing, Marge. Yes, so many losses in recent days. We are praying much.
My heart breaks for those living in colorful darkness, especially in this season! Reading this, I could see your flat and the neighborhood. Praying for light to shine!
Amen. Praying this as well, sister.
Susan, the oxymoronic title of this posting — “Colorful -darkness” reveals you as the poet you are. With ten more minutes of Mother’s Day left, let me give thanks for mothers like you (and mine) who counter the fears and encourage us to explore mysteries. Blessings — Ellie
Thank you, Ellie. Your words mean so much to me. Thank you for being a wonderful teacher and having such an impact on me my junior year in high school. Thankful we’ve been in touch over the years since then.
Hi Susan- though I’ve never been to India, I was blessed by this beautiful writing sewing the past with the present. What a heavy reality to ponder.
Well said. It’s a “heavy reality,” indeed. Thank you.
As a former resident of Bangalore, I certainly could picture the scenes you described and I remember the shock of seeing people worship idols. It is not an abandoned ancient practice.
Love your perspective on “colorful” darkness. You probably are aware by now that the culture you are now living in is a culture of shame and denial. I grew up there and it is only by the pure grace of God that anyone (including me) is transferred from the “domain of darkness to everlasting light” of Jesus Christ. Keep at it!
Rejoicing in your salvation! Yes, as a child and as an adult I’ve lived in several “shame” cultures. Thankful for how He redeems where the darkness looks impossible. Miraculous and glorious.