(John 12:34–36)
Reading John 12, I laugh at the magnificent, audacious teaching mechanism of Jesus. Honestly, God has both a sense of humour and a flair for the dramatic, both profoundly necessary and profoundly effective.
John writes,
“Then Jesus said to them, ‘A little while longer the light is with you. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you.’”
And then he adds,
“These things Jesus spoke, and departed, and was hidden from them.”
The significance of John 12 is understood through John 1: Jesus is the Light. The irony is exquisite, the Light warns that it will soon be gone, and then the Light literally walks away. The lesson is living, embodied irony: illumination departing from those content to reason about brightness.
This is the genius of Jesus.
He teaches not only through words, but through the drama of revelation itself. His departure enacts His message, light withdrawn from those who prefer analysis to faith.
But there is more to this teaching than meets the eye. (Pun fully intended.)
The Veiled Glory of Moses (Exodus 34:33–35)
When Moses descended from Sinai, his face shone with reflected glory. The people, terrified by the residue of divine presence, begged him to cover it. And so,
“When Moses finished speaking with them, he put a veil over his face.” (Exodus 34:33)
The veil both concealed and protected, it was mercy wrapped in linen. The Israelites could not yet bear direct exposure to the radiance of unfiltered truth. The light remained too strong for their unhealed sight.
Now, centuries later, that same motif unfolds on Golgotha’s horizon. The true Light stands before His people, unmediated, unfiltered, and once again, they cannot bear it. Where Moses veiled his face, Jesus veils Himself through departure. Both moments reveal the tension between divine brilliance and human blindness.
The Veil of the Heart (2 Corinthians 3:14–16)
Paul later draws the full line between Moses and Christ:
“But their minds were hardened. For to this day when they read the old covenant, that same veil remains unlifted… But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed.”
Here, the veil is no longer on the face, it’s over the heart.
The barrier has moved from the physical to the spiritual.
Jesus’ disappearance in John 12 foreshadows this very condition: revelation hidden, not because light failed, but because perception faltered. The people’s question, “Who is this Son of Man?” exposes the blindness born of expectation. They wanted a messiah who would conquer Rome, not a Redeemer who would conquer death.
And so, the Light departs, and they are left with their unseeing brilliance, scholars of Scripture standing in the dark.
The Veil of Every Generation
Every generation builds its own veil. Some call it culture, some call it ideology, others call it intellect. But the result is the same, we interpret light through filters that darken it. The miracle of grace is not that Jesus waits for us to understand, but that He still walks near enough for us to be drawn. When the heart turns, the veil lifts, and suddenly the same Scriptures that once confused us begin to burn within us. This is what it means to “walk while you have the light.” It is to surrender interpretation to illumination, to let the Word read you.
The trajectory is divine patience. God moves from concealing light for our safety, to revealing light for our salvation, to internalising light for our sanctification.
The veil is never final. The same God who veiled His glory for Moses unveils it in Christ, not by dimming Himself, but by healing our sight.
Theological Reflection: The Pattern of Revelation
Closing Thought
Jesus does not ridicule our blindness; He redeems it. He teaches through the paradox of withdrawal, that absence can be revelation, that silence can be speech.
And when He departs from the crowd in John 12, He is not abandoning them; He is dramatizing what unbelief does: it hides us from what stands right in front of us.
The genius of Jesus is that He lets light become its own lesson.
Practical Application: Living Unveiled
The veil may not hang from our faces, but from our habits.
We cover the radiance of truth when we filter it through pride, performance, or preference. Jesus’ departure in John 12 warns us that light unwalked-in becomes light lost.
To live unveiled is to stop explaining away conviction and start walking in revelation. It is to let Christ’s nearness dismantle our need to always “understand.” Faith is not blindness, it’s the humility to see beyond what intellect alone can interpret.
Walk while you have the light.
Because every step in obedience is a step into clearer sight.
Prayer
Lord Jesus,
Light of the world and lifter of veils, teach me to walk while You are near.
Strip away the coverings of fear, pride, and intellect that hide Your glory from my heart. Replace curiosity with communion, and analysis with adoration.
Let me live unveiled, not because I understand everything, but because I trust the One who sees all.
In Your Wonderful and Holy Name King Jesus,
Amen.
#Hayibo 