Post tenebras spero lucem—“After darkness I hope for light.” This was the motto of Switzerland’s city of Geneva. Providence had directed one of the most salient illustrations of the Reformation in this Swiss city and its motto. Like all of Europe, it was a city hoping for light in the midst of the dark ages. Only a corrupted claim of Christianity was officially represented by the established church of that day, but the people were left in darkness.
On May 21, 1536, the city of Geneva was finally awakened to the light—they had voted in the Reformation. The “Good News”—the Gospel or Evangelium—proclaimed in the Reformation had finally and officially been embraced. With the Reformation came the happy message of good news for weary and sad souls. The grace and love of God truly known in justification by faith alone always awakens love and joy in the heart of man. The Gospel was sweeping through the land and was acknowledged to be the very light that Geneva—indeed, the world—was hoping for. Immediately a new motto was born: Post tenebras lux—“After darkness light!” The city began minting their coins with this new motto indicating that their wishes for light after darkness had been fulfilled by the grace of God through the Reformation. The people declared that they had found what once they had hoped for—the light of Christ!
In just two months’ time, Providence would bring one of the key instruments that the Lord Himself would use to shine bright this light in Geneva, and through her to the uttermost parts of the world. That clay vessel was known by the name of John Calvin.
Rediscovery of Light
The Reformation marks the rediscovery of realities far greater than its own history. It is but a window in an otherwise cluttered and darkened room of human invention and interest; a window to fresh beauties and delicious truths that surpass all that man can create, construct, or corrupt.
The Reformation, then, embodies significantly more than a remodeling of Roman Catholic religion. To classify the Reformation as simply a religious or ecclesiastical development is terribly shortsighted and either prejudiced or unlearned. It represents much more than a correction to certain errors in Roman Catholicism and extends with the power of tremendous influence beyond the church, moving and shaping mountains in human societies and histories.
The Reformation is also more than the recovery of information. Many then and now have this same information available to them and yet their hearts remain unchanged. If the Reformation should teach us the indispensable importance of truth and the vitality of God’s Word in the hands of His people, it should also teach us by example that there is no real reformation apart from heart change—mere information is never enough.
Those who delight in Reformation history, therefore, should prayerfully avoid making the Reformation out to be about the Reformation—it’s not! The Reformation exists to make much of Christ, not the Reformation. It is a means to a much greater end. It’s importance transcends its history and its purpose transcends man. We can easily lose sight of the forest in our passion to pass on the legacy of this great sequoia. We are to steward this profoundly important history for no less an aim than the promotion of Christ among the nations, to the glory of God and the joy of man in Him.
Light Still Matters
The Reformation still matters because this Light still matters. In other words, the Reformation still matters because the Gospel still matters. The Reformation still matters because the truth still matters. The Reformation still matters because our perception of God and self still matters.
The light of the Gospel of Jesus Christ brought warmth, comfort, meaning, purpose, love, and joy into hearts that were devoid of such goodness. The Reformation still matters because God is ever deserving of praise and in this do we find our greatest good. It was the Reformation that brought back to humanity our chief end: to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. This is the light after darkness, the joy of knowing God in Christ. Here, in this light of the Gospel, is our purpose for existence answered.
Left to ourselves, we are confined to darkness, no matter how bright we think it is. On our own, we would never arrive at true goodness. Light must break into our darkness—this is the monument of the Reformation.
For whatever the philosophers may have ever said of the chief good, it was nothing but cold and vain, for they confined man to himself, while it is necessary for us to go out of ourselves to find happiness. The chief good of man is nothing else but union with God.
— John Calvin, Commentary on Hebrews (4:10), 98.
Long ago, the Scripture made plain the meaning and source of all true light:
“For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light.” (Psalm 36:9)
With this light, do we see light! By the revelation of God in Christ through the written Word, do we then see all things differently. Light must break into our darkness—revelation of truth over darkened reasoning is what we hope for and have in the Gospel. The light we then see in God’s light, is our chief end or purpose for existence. We were made to glorify and enjoy God forever. Light has broken into our darkness—this is the monument of the Reformation, may we steward it well.
Now, the knowledge of God, as I understand it, is that by which we not only conceive that there is a God but also grasp what befits us and is proper to his glory, in fine, what is to our advantage to know of him … although our mind cannot apprehend God without rendering some honor to him, it will not suffice simply to hold that there is One whom all ought to honor and adore, unless we are also persuaded that he is the fountain of every good, and that we must seek nothing elsewhere than in him … For until men recognize that they owe everything to God, that they are nourished by his fatherly care, that he is the Author of their every good, that they should seek nothing beyond him—they will never yield him willing service. Nay, unless they establish their complete happiness in him, they will never give themselves truly and sincerely to him.
(Calvin, Institutes, 1.2.1)