Bowling in the Dark

Bowling in the Dark

“Jesus replied, ‘Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Anyone who walks in daylight doesn’t stumble because there’s plenty of light from the sun.’” John 11:9 [The Message]

There was once a bowling league that consistently scored the lowest in the land. They were friends who had bowled together for years, loved hanging out on bowling night, and knew the game well. None of them rented shoes; they each owned the best pair they could find. They had studied the rules well and practiced relentlessly, sending their 16 pound balls rolling down the oiled lane toward the ten pins.

Each Tuesday night they gathered in their team shirts that read, “DimLits”, tied their shoes, placed their balls in the returns and prepared for a fun night at the alley. No one ever came close to bowling a perfect 300, let alone a 900 for a series of three games. What few could understand is why, in fact, no one had even broken 100 in the history of their league. These were young adults committed to the game, yet they left more pins standing than fallen in every frame. They rarely heard the pleasing sound of the ball crashing into the one-three pocket and the wooden crash of the pins falling against each other.

That’s right, they rarely heard it. They never saw, it though. Far back in the hazy history of the “DimLit” League, someone had forgotten to pay the light bill. As generation passed to generation, each one bowled in the dark, not knowing that they were the only league to do so. For the, darkness was part of the game. No one had ever seen the pins at the end of the alley, nor the spots to help place the ball at the front. They had always sent the ball down the lane and hoped for as much pin action as possible, relying on the automatic scoring to tell them what they had hit.

All that changed when one bowler went out of town and visited his cousin’s league, “The Lumieres”. When he turned out the lights, thinking someone had forgotten, you can imagine the confusion, let alone the angry stares he was met with. But, once everything was explained, he was excited to take the news back to his friends, “We don’t have to play in the dark! We can actually bowl with the lights on.”

His old friends were as excited as he was. They began to bowl in the light and their scores skyrocketed. Being able to “see” their world now made all the difference. They knew exactly where to start the ball, how much speed to give it, and what spin to place on it trying to down the one or two pins needed for a spare. And the strikes! Soon everyone wanted to join the league, knowing, now, why the scores had been so low previously.

The world was in the grip of darkness as well, but Christ came, not to “show” us the light, but to actually be the light. Our world makes sense only as we see it through the grace and goodness of Jesus Himself.

Each one of us is like those bowlers in the dark until we come to Jesus. We go through life, believing that our sub-par existence is actually normal. We think we are “playing the game” correctly while there is so much more for us.

But, imagine the “DimLits” now starting having meetings to talk about the light. They all memorized exactly what the speed of light was, plus knew what E=MC2 meant. They taught their children little songs about the light. And they recruited others to talk about “bowling in the light” with them. But, as far as bowling itself…they never actually turned the lights on.

We must go beyond “talking” about Jesus. We must ask, “Am I truly walking in the light, or am I just talking a good talk?’ I don’t want to live in darkness, and I especially don’t want to just talk about the light while living there. Jesus told us that if we loved Him, we would keep His commandments. The “proof” those bowlers were actually bowling in the light was the change in their scores.

So, how about it? Where do you need to “walk in the light?” Even if the change seems difficult, remember, God Himself is light. The only way we can encounter Him is to be willing to let His light shine on us, changing our lives from within.