“Illumination” an Excerpt From John’s Book
The following post is taken from John Steakley’s book Unbound Grace: Hope in the Wilderness of Addiction. To purchase a copy of John’s book scroll down to the bottom of this post to click the button, or come by the office and pick up a copy in person during regular business hours.
CHAPTER NINE : ILLUMINATION
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”
—2 CORINTHIANS 5:17
Paige Bradley created a breathtaking sculpture known as Illumination, a notable piece within her Expansion series. It is a bronze figure of a man, shirtless, draped in darkness, falling to his knees. His arms are spread before the heavens, palms offered open, face angled skyward—eyes shut against the world. The energy and emotion in the still silence of this form communicates more clearly than words, crying out to creation, “Here I am, all of me.”
However, it isn’t the posture of the sculpture that serves as the art’s inspiration. There are fissures riddling the figure’s body, a myriad crack of vulnerability making the sculpture feel more human. But far and away the most awe-inspiring feature is that, from these flaws, light pours forth, underlining the imperfections, magnifying a stance of humility, acceptance, and peace.
The title Illumination holds a dual significance: it simultaneously spotlights the sculpture’s flaws which are also its most visually compelling feature. It narrates the tale of human frailty and brokenness. It testifies that healing comes through surrendering our shortcomings, our cracks, and our inadequacies to Christ. The path of exposure may be laced with initial pain, but it leads us toward the sunlight of liberation.
“We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it, the process is not yet finished, but it is going on, this is not the end, but it is the road. All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.”
—Martin Luther
The sculpture stands as a testament to the liberating power of truth exposed. It dares to whisper that our search for perfection is not a journey we can complete on our own. Our willpower and resolve can’t manifest perfection. Rather, it’s the righteousness of Christ, more luminous than any blemish, that completes us. The brokenness reveals completion in Christ.
In the beginning, God took chaos and birthed order from its depths. As humans, our fallibility often turns God’s order back into chaos. Yet Illumination captures the essence of God’s redeeming power, how He collects our fragments of disorder and breathes wholeness back into us. His light breaks through us, for “In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:4–5).
In the astonishing tapestry of human existence, our cracks and imperfections mark us not as failures but rather as landscapes ripe for God’s light to shine through. The sculpture becomes a remarkable allegory of this reality. The light of grace does not fill us despite our flaws; it fills us through them. It’s not our perfection that makes us remarkable, but our brokenness, which God willingly fills and heals. As the apostle Paul wrote, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
A Question to Consider
How does acknowledging and surrendering your flaws and imperfections, or even your perceived righteousness, create space for God’s light to shine through you?
