William Holman Hunt, The Light of the World
“I did not want to be hoodwinked,” wrote William Holman Hunt. He was reading the Bible critically, trying to discover its flaws, and this painting grew out of that search.
Look first at the lantern. Its light spills across Jesus’ robe and the weeds at his feet. Follow his other arm to the hand raised at the door. Ivy has spread across the long-closed door, and there is no handle on the outside.
Stay for a moment with that raised hand.
Hunt feared that his longing for eternal life might persuade him before he had good reason to believe. His companions laughed at what they called the credulity of inferior religious minds. He found himself caught between the fear of deceiving himself and the fear of what others would think.
Then the words “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” began to trouble him. The question he was examining had become an invitation addressed to him. He gave his attention to an invitation he was still trying to understand.
Perhaps you recognise his hesitation. Something deeply hoped for can be difficult to trust precisely because we want it so much. We may fear being persuaded by our own longing. We may also fear what others would think if we believed.
Those fears deserve an honest hearing. They can themselves become part of a conversation with Jesus.
Return to the closed door. The invitation is to share a meal, to welcome someone into the place where we live. Allow a little silence before responding.
A question to remain with
As you consider opening the door, what would you want to say to Jesus waiting outside?
An invitation to prayer
Jesus, you know what I hope for and what makes me hesitate. Help me speak honestly with you. Give me discernment as I seek the truth and courage to receive what I’ve come to recognise. I bring you the questions I still carry. Come. Dine with me.