Light in the Darkness
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” John 1:5
From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for your support this year.
Despite our own limitations and other challenges, we have managed to accomplish quite a bit. We recorded and released the first season of our very own podcast. We co-hosted our first ever in-person meet up with artist Caroline Greb. And since launching in October 2021, we’ve managed to publish over 25 pieces by 14 contributors on topics ranging from funeral practices to technology to theology. All things considered, we think this has been a good start.
We realize that Perishable Goods fills what, at times, feels like an obscure niche. Why write (in our case) or read (in your case) reflections on embodiment when there are other seemingly more pressing issues that vie for our attention?
Over the last year—as I have shared Perishable Goods and had countless conversations about embodiment (with many of you, in fact)—I have become only more convinced that the difficulty to grasp the meaning of our limited, creaturely, embodied existence lies at the root of so much of today’s confusion. Ours is a world out of touch with the reality of touch itself. Our bodies are obscured and overlooked, and our understanding of ourselves has changed drastically. This is not, as some suggest, the result primarily or merely of developments in the university or classroom. It is largely the result of a centuries-long technological project that, for all its good effects, has gradually unburdened us of our created and fallen limits.
Whether you’re a trans-humanist techie trying to erase death, a teen doom-scrolling to numb his pubertal anxiety, or a young mother reeling from the grief of another miscarriage, all of us in the first world suffer from the same condition. We are no longer able to face our limits and the God who has ordained them. Our mortal bodies refuse to be dominated by human ingenuity. They resist us, and they fail us. Death unexpectedly takes a loved one, anxiety returns, and dysphoria persists. And the sovereign Lord lets this be.
As modernity’s torches of progress and prosperity seem to be burning out, believers and non-believers alike have resigned themselves to accept this present mortal life only as a form of suffering—the only difference seems to be that people of faith hope for a better life in the world to come. Left in the dark, we have stopped looking for a solution. We have settled for cheap thrills to numb what we cannot bear to face.
But what if light could be found in the dark? What if joy could be found in the midst of suffering? What if the imperishable shines through the perishable?
In Psalm 139, David indicates this very thing is possible:
“Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there! …
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.”
Stranded as we may feel in the postmodern night of suffering and limits, even this darkness is not dark for the God of Scripture. This night is not impenetrable to His light. Nor does it inhibit His presence. Truly, as John Calvin said, “There is no spot in the universe wherein you cannot discern at least some sparks of God’s glory”—not even here. In contrast to our culture’s resignation, Scripture invites us to faith in a God who is more consuming than even the darkest darkness, a God who brings life even out of death. Not repackaged knock-offs of modern progress and prosperity nor the coping mechanisms we hope will help us.
It is precisely this kind of faith that Perishable Goods—through our reflections on perishability, embodiment, and creaturely limits—seeks to fan aflame, both for ourselves and for our readers. We sincerely hope that this little corner of the internet helps you find God’s light in our present darkness and friends who are looking for it with you.
Grace and Peace to You This New Year,
Jared Eckert on behalf of the Perishable Goods Team