Light from Light
A couple nights ago, I found myself awake in the dark—my house quiet, my thoughts running here, there, and everywhere. While some people may count sheep, I often pray the Profession of Faith to slow things down. This time, I stopped on a few of the lines and really started to ponder them.
Light from Light.
I started thinking about the first time we hear about light in the Bible. It’s literally only a few lines in. At the very beginning of Genesis, before the sun or the stars even exist, we hear:
“God said, ‘Let there be light.’”(Genesis 1:3)
Not sunlight. Not something created to illumine the earth. This was a different kind of light–one spoken into existence by God Himself—a light that comes from God. Day One.
Then I thought about Jesus, standing before his disciples thousands of years later, declaring:
“I am the light of the world.” (John 8:12)
And suddenly, a little light bulb went on in my head. Light from Light made sense in a new way I’d never considered. The light spoken at creation is not separate from the light revealed in Christ. The Son is not a lesser brightness or a reflection—He is the very radiance of God Himself.
Not two lights.
One.
True God from true God
The Profession of Faith presses further:
True God from true God.
I was doing some mental gymnastics now.
If Jesus is true God from true God, then God knows human suffering from the inside—not as a distant observer, but as One who has felt hunger, grief, betrayal, pain, and death.
It means God’s light isn’t distant or untouchable—it walked among us.
And God, in His infinite mercy and love, didn’t send a substitute.
He came Himself.
He was the Word made flesh, as John wrote in his gospel.
First God spoke the light into existence. And then He became it–in Jesus.
John names this mystery directly:
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:1-5)
Begotten, not made
Then comes some more clarification:
Begotten, not made.
The Son is not a creature God brought into existence like the stars or the sea. Creation is made by God. The Son is from God—eternally.
Begotten doesn’t mean beginning.
It means shared life.
It means relationship.
The Father gives all that He is.
The Son receives all that He is.
And nothing is lost in the giving.
It’s like one candle lighting another. The flame is fully shared, yet nothing is diminished. The light spreads without dividing, and the source remains whole.
This is why, at Baptism, the light is passed from the Paschal candle to a small flame meant for us. We are not given a different light—only invited to share in the same one.
This is love at its deepest level—not created, not temporary, not divided.
Shine On
Jesus doesn’t stop with Himself. He turns outward and says:
“You are the light of the world.” (Matthew 5:14)
Not because we generate light on our own—but because we reflect it. The Church Fathers loved the image of the sun and the moon: Christ is the source; we shine only because His light reaches us.
As St. John of Damascus wrote, in essence:
The Son is Light from Light, and we are illuminated by participation in that light—like the moon reflecting the sun.
We don’t replace the light.
We don’t improve it.
We simply receive it—and let it show.
CS Lewis put this so beautifully, too:
Don’t shine so others can see you. Shine so that through you, others can see Him.”
The Spirit of Truth—the love eternally shared between the Father and the Son—was poured out on the world at Pentecost. It rushed into the Church like wind and fire. In our Baptism, that love is given personally and permanently, dwelling within our own hearts.
“The Spirit of truth… will guide you into all truth.” (John 16:13)
The same Spirit who hovered over the waters at creation now makes ordinary lives luminous.
This is how the light spreads.
This is how the love spreads.
Not divided.
Not diminished.
One Light.
One Love.
And we are the torchbearers who shine on through the darkness.
