The True Light
When John describes Jesus as the “true light” in John 1:9, he isn’t just offering poetic language or an interesting metaphor. He’s making a bold, theological declaration about the identity of Christ. He’s saying that Jesus is the fulfillment of everything God hinted at throughout the Old Testament. Every glimpse of light, every shadow of hope, every prophecy that promised redemption, finds its substance in Him. John wants us to recognize that Jesus didn’t appear randomly. He came as the long-promised light who would shine on people sitting in darkness.
John writes, “The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.” (v. 9) That’s quite the thought. The God who said, “Let there be light” in Genesis 1 entered the world He created. The God who led Israel by a pillar of fire in Exodus stepped into human history as a man. The God who promised through Isaiah that “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” came to fulfill every word of that promise. Creation began with God’s light filling the universe. Redemption begins with God’s light stepping into it.
But John also tells us something heartbreaking. He says Jesus was in the world, “and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him.” (v. 10) That isn’t just ancient history. That’s a reflection of the human heart at present. Sin blinds us. It convinces us that we can live independently from the One who formed us. It persuades us to worship created things instead of the Creator. It’s the same pattern Israel fell into repeatedly. Judges 2 describes a generation that “did not know the Lord or the work that he had done for Israel.” The problem wasn’t that God hadn’t revealed Himself. The problem was that their hearts were resistant.
And honestly, that same resistance used to mark my own life. There are seasons I can look back on when I knew facts about Jesus, but I didn’t actually know Him. I could quote verses. I could tell you what I believed. But I wasn’t receiving Him as Lord of my life. I wasn’t walking in His light. I was choosing self-reliance over surrender, and it produced the kind of spiritual darkness Scripture warns us about. Proverbs 14 says there’s a way that “seems right” to a person, but in the end it leads to death. I’ve walked some of those “seems right” roads before. They never deliver what they promise.
John continues, “He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him.” (v. 11). Israel had Scripture, prophecy, history, and covenant identity. They had every reason to recognize Jesus. Yet many refused to receive Him. And before we rush to judge them, we need to recognize how often we do something similar. We may know His Word. We may be familiar with Christian culture. We may even serve in ministry or lead others. But if we’re honest, there are moments when our hearts resist the things Jesus wants to do in us.
Maybe He’s calling you to forgive someone who hurt you. Maybe He’s convicting you about a habit that’s slowly shaping your character in a negative way. Maybe He’s inviting you to trust Him in a season that feels unstable. You might feel that inner tension when His Spirit nudges you to obey. In those moments we’re discovering whether our faith is superficial or relational. The Pharisees knew Scripture better than anyone, yet they missed the Messiah standing right in front of them. I think we’re meant to hear that as a warning. Familiarity isn’t the same as faith.
But here’s the beautiful turn in the passage. John doesn’t stop with rejection. He offers one of the most hope filled statements in Scripture. “But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” (v. 12). That’s the heart of the gospel in a single sentence. Jesus didn’t come just to inform us but to transform us. He came to take people who were spiritually dead and make them alive. He came to bring outsiders into the family.
That phrase, “the right to become children of God,” is huge. This isn’t sentimental language. It’s covenant language. John is talking about legal, relational adoption. God isn’t letting us in reluctantly. He’s welcoming us with eagerness. Through faith in Jesus, we are no longer spiritual orphans. We’re sons and daughters with full access to our Father. Isaiah 43:1 reveals God’s heart when He says, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name, you are mine.” That’s what Jesus came to make possible. And when you truly believe that, it changes how you live.
Think about what it means that Jesus gives us the “right” to become God’s children. That means your identity is no longer rooted in your past, your failures, or your fears. It isn’t rooted in your achievements either. It’s rooted in Jesus. It means you can approach God with confidence, not because you’re impressive but because you’re His. It means your life has direction because you’re not wandering in the dark anymore. You’re walking in the light of the One who saved you.
John adds, “who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.” (v. 13). He’s making it clear that salvation isn’t something we create or control. It’s a miracle of grace. It’s a spiritual birth, something only God can do. This echoes Ezekiel 36 where God promised to give His people a new heart and put a new Spirit within them. It echoes Jeremiah 31 where God promised a new covenant, not written on stone but written on the heart. When you place your faith in Jesus, you’re experiencing the fulfillment of those ancient promises.
And if you’ve ever wondered whether God is patient with you, these verses should settle it. Jesus came to a world that didn’t recognize Him. He came to people who didn’t receive Him. Yet He still offered Himself, fully and freely. He still invited them into His family. And He’s still doing that today. He’s doing that right now. He’s still shining His light into dark places. He’s still rescuing people who didn’t know they needed rescuing. He’s still softening hearts that once resisted Him.
I think about this a lot when I reflect on the personal testimonies I have heard from many of my brothers and sisters in Christ. So many have said, “There were moments in my early years when I sensed God tugging at my heart, but I resisted because I thought I needed to clean myself up before I came to Him. I didn’t yet understand that He’s the one who cleans us. He’s the one who changes us. He’s the one who gives new birth.”
Personally speaking, I’ve learned that the sooner I bring God my mess, whatever my mess happens to be at the moment, the sooner He starts transforming it into something meaningful. That’s what grace does. It finds you where you are, but it never leaves you there.
Have you received Him?
John is inviting us to consider one central question. Have you received Him? Not just acknowledged Him, not just agreed with facts about Him, but received Him? Have you opened your heart to the true light and let Him define your identity as a child of God? Everything changes when you do.
When you truly receive Jesus, the true light begins reshaping everything inside you. Your priorities shift. Your desires shift. Even your understanding of reality shifts. You start seeing the world through a new clarity, the way a room looks when someone finally pulls back the curtain in the morning. The light doesn’t just reveal what’s already there. It changes how you function within that space. That’s what Jesus does in a person’s heart. He illuminates and He transforms it.
That’s part of what John is getting at in this passage. He’s showing us that our relationship with God isn’t built on effort. It’s built on spiritual birth. Just like none of us initiated our physical birth, none of us initiate our spiritual birth. God does that. He doesn’t wait for us to reach a higher moral level. He doesn’t demand that we prove ourselves first. Instead, He brings us to life. This is why Jesus tells Nicodemus in John 3 that he must be “born again.” If we could fix ourselves through effort, Jesus wouldn’t have said that. The problem isn’t that we’re imperfect. The problem is that apart from Christ we’re spiritually dead. And the only remedy for death is resurrection. That’s what God gives us in Jesus.
When John says we’re “born of God,” he’s telling us that our new identity is a miracle. It’s a work of God’s grace. That truth becomes even more powerful when we remember the backdrop of the Old Testament. Israel’s entire story was shaped by God’s promise to redeem and restore. From the moment Adam and Eve fell, God began pointing forward to a coming Savior. He promised that a descendant of the woman would crush the serpent’s head in Genesis 3. He promised Abraham that all nations would be blessed through his offspring in Genesis 12. He promised Moses that a greater prophet was coming in Deuteronomy 18. He promised David that a Son from his line would reign forever in 2 Samuel 7. Every promise was building toward this moment in John 1 when the true light stepped into the world.
The world’s response vs. God’s response
But what strikes me most is the contrast between how the world responded and how God responded. The world didn’t recognize Jesus. Many of His own people didn’t receive Him. Yet God still pursued. God still offered adoption. God still opened the door for anyone who would believe. That tells me something important about His heart. God isn’t discouraged by human resistance. He’s patient. He’s faithful. He keeps inviting, even when people ignore Him.
If you’ve ever feared that you’ve failed too many times or drifted too far or disappointed God beyond what He’s willing to repair, this passage speaks directly to that fear. The offer still stands. The true light still shines. And the invitation isn’t limited to those with a flawless record. It’s extended to “all who did receive him.” If you belong to Jesus today, it’s because He kept pursuing you. He kept drawing you in. He kept shining light into the places you thought were too dark.
And as a child of God, you now get to walk in that light. You get to see yourself through the lens of God’s love. You get to experience the security that comes from knowing you belong to Him.
But let’s make this personal and practical for a moment. What does it actually look like to walk in the light Jesus gives? How does being a child of God shape your everyday life?
1. It means you don’t have to hide anymore.
Darkness loves secrecy. It thrives on shame. But children of the light bring their struggles into God’s presence because they know He doesn’t reject them. He restores them. 1 John 1:7 reminds us that when we walk in the light, the blood of Jesus continually cleanses us. That means you can confess sin without fear. You can be honest about weakness. You can open your heart fully, knowing your Father welcomes you.
2. It means you don’t face life alone.
God hasn’t adopted you to leave you isolated. He’s given you His Spirit, His Word, and His people. When life feels overwhelming, you aren’t left to figure things out by yourself. Isaiah 41 says God will strengthen and uphold His people. Jesus promises in John 14 that He won’t leave us as orphans. The Father’s presence is your constant companion.
3. It means you can live with purpose instead of drifting.
Children of God aren’t wandering in the dark, hoping to stumble into meaning. They’re guided. They’re led. Psalm 119 reminds us that God’s Word is a lamp to our feet and a light to our path. When you know Jesus, your life isn’t random. Your work has purpose. Your relationships have depth. Your struggles have meaning because God uses all of it to form you into the likeness of His Son.
4. It means you can hope confidently.
The world tells us to keep our expectations low so we don’t get disappointed. But children of God are invited to hope with courage. We know how the story ends. We know Jesus is coming again. We know the light wins. Isaiah 60 gives us a prophetic picture of that day when nations will walk in the light of the Lord. That’s the future promised to God’s people. And it fuels the hope we carry today.
But here’s the part that humbles me every time. Jesus didn’t give us the right to become children of God because we earned it. He gave it because He loves us. He loves you. He loves you with a love that began before creation, a love that pursued you through your resistance, a love that sent the true light into a dark world so you could be rescued. You aren’t an afterthought in God’s story. You’re part of His family.
Is God just tolerating you?
Sometimes I talk to believers who still struggle with feeling unworthy of God’s affection. Maybe that’s you today. Maybe you believe in Jesus, but part of you still thinks God tolerates you more than He delights in you. If that’s how you feel, look again at John 1:12. You’ve been given the right to become a child of God. That’s legal language. It means your status is settled. You aren’t barely tolerated. You’re embraced. You’re wanted. You’re secure.
If God wanted servants, He could have created more angels. Instead, He wanted sons and daughters. He wanted a family. He wanted you. That’s why Jesus came. That’s why He stepped into a world that didn’t recognize Him. That’s why He went to the cross. That’s why He rose again. Every step He took was for the purpose of bringing you into His Father’s house.
Encouragement
So let me leave you with this encouragement. If you’ve received Jesus, walk in the light. Lean into your identity. Remind your heart daily that you’re God’s child. When temptation tries to pull you back into darkness, remember who you belong to. When fear whispers that you’re alone, remember who your Father is. When shame tries to convince you that you’re unworthy, remember the price Jesus paid to make you His.
The true light has come. And because of Him, you are no longer in the dark. You’re home. You’re loved. You’re His.
© John Stange, 2025