Blackpool Dilluminations

I recently drove through Blackpool illuminations. It was not my first choice for a night’s entertainment, but I will confess to rather enjoying them, despite the slowness of the goggling traffic. Thanks to LED technology, the lights are better than my childhood recollections, and one departed the Golden Mile having observed a genuine work of art.

Of course, being Blackpool, It was spoiled by the compulsory sight of middle-aged men dressed up as women (and ghastly ones, at that), yet there was also that perennial favourite, to which my camera failed to secure a tolerable image, of Jesus Christ, ‘the light of the world’.

This old world, with its twinkling corruptions, glistening perversions, and glaring hedonism, is still a place where true light can be sought and found, for the Lord Jesus shines His light wherever it is desired. Yet there is a place of night where all of sin’s sparkle is extinguished, where the denizens creep about in thick, gloomy darkness, awaiting the final judgement. There, no light shines, not even a candle. On the earth, we might have to put up with cheap, artificial light, but true light there still is.