Shadow of a Doubt

Even though Peter Pan likes to fly around London, I’d argue that he’s really an American. Living the American Dream in Neverland, which some might just call Los Angeles. Unlimited resources, no adults, no responsibilities (other than besting Captain Hook), just fun and games. Including his favorite game of chasing his shadow.

There’s not a kid around who doesn’t like playing with shadows, particularly when they are the star of the show. And even more so when the light is placed just right thus making the child look 10x larger in silhouette. Or maybe it just takes a little projector to bring out the finger puppets that can spark an unlimited imagination.

I started thinking a bit more about shadows this past week when I saw a drawing of Goliath standing tall and casting a swallowing shadow over David. These two keep showing up on the doorstep of my mind over the last few months, starting with a couple books I read this summer written by Louie Giglio and Malcolm Gladwell. Both took two completely different approaches to the most popular Sunday school story that we all know by heart, and yet each author helped me see different sides of the characters (including all the passive onlookers) that I haven’t thought about before.

But while I won’t get into the narratives or conclusions of the books, I'd like to unpack two different kinds of shadows that I started thinking about after seeing the drawing. These are simply the shadows we want and the shadows we don’t want.

The shadows we don’t want are pretty easy to define and identify, which are the giants in our life that cast a long cloud of darkness and uncertainty over us. Which is how most people like to describe Goliath as a metaphor of overcoming the large obstacles in life despite feeling like the underdog. “There’s no need to fear, Underdog is here!”

I think we all would acknowledge that killing off the giants in our life is much easier said than done. Especially if we try to follow a formula or path of manufactured self-help steps to break through. Rarely is that helpful or successful if we’re left to our own devices.

These dark shadows can easily paralyze us if we think there’s no way through to the other side. At least that’s what the Israelite army thought every day for 40 days when Goliath kept intimidating and barking at them. So they didn’t do a thing, even though they knew God was on their side. While I don’t pretend to have an answer key to squashing our nasty long-formed shadows, I’m pretty sure the absence of action is the wrong approach.

But it’s not the unwanted shadows that strikes me as the most unusual or unexpected, it’s the shadows that we want. The ones we often crave and even pursue. Meaning the shadows of shade and comfort. Just let me get some relief and shelter from the brutal beat down of the daily grind over here by myself under this nice palm tree. Even a coconut tree will do. Or my kid’s tiny umbrella. Just don’t let the sweltering heat and pressure pound on me so much, please.

I don’t know which shadow speaks to you more, but the latter is my issue. I’d like to chill out for some alone time away from others and far from all my problems. And their problems too. I don’t want to get sweaty or sunburned or have my stuff exposed. I tell myself that I deserve some space and a break from all the action.

This was what Jonah battled through after his crazy path to Ninevah (via the belly of a fish). Still hot-headed and bathing in his salty attitude, Jonah camped outside the city to reflect a bit by himself. God appointed a plant and gave him some shade, which I’m sure he huffed “it’s about time.” The relief didn’t last long though as God let the plant die the very next day (via the belly of a worm).

“Hey yo! What gives with my plant and my well-deserved comfort!??” Jonah was clearly not a happy camper.

In response to the withering of the plant, and as a righteous response to the grace extended to Ninevah, God said Jonah didn’t have a right to complain for something which he did not labor and did not make grow. Comfort and shade was not promised or earned. But the glory of the Lord was shining brightly through both the shadow Jonah wanted and the shadow he didn’t want.

Isn’t it ironic that the shadows we want don’t last as long as we would like, but the shadows we don’t want typically last longer than desired?

But it’s not our viewpoint or timeline that really matters since our shadows are truly temporary. Even better, God has no shadow at all, which is the most encouraging and enlightening conclusion in our game of shadows.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” (James 1:17)

That sure sounds like a mic drop if you ask me. Without a shadow of a doubt.