Wisdom 17:17-21: in context

Reflecting on the plague of darkness that fell on Egypt, the writer of Wisdom describes not merely an outward darkness but an inner terror. The Egyptians, he says, were paralyzed with fear; ordinary sounds, a whistling wind, birdsong, running water, terrified them. While the whole world was in light and went about its work, over them alone lay a heavy night. And he gives the deepest observation: to themselves, they were heavier than the darkness. Their outer darkness was matched, and exceeded, by an inner darkness of fear and dread that came from within.

The insight worth drawing out is that the Egyptians were, to themselves, heavier than the darkness. The physical darkness was terrible, but the deeper darkness was within them: a fear and dread that made ordinary, harmless sounds terrifying, that paralyzed them from within. Their own hearts, weighed down by guilt and fear, cast a darkness heavier than the plague itself. The outer darkness was matched by an inner one that came from their own troubled consciences, tormenting them from within, so that they were their own heaviest burden. This describes a reality that reaches beyond that plague: the inner darkness that guilt and a troubled conscience cast over the soul. A guilty conscience produces its own darkness, its own fear, its own dread. The one who carries unaddressed guilt is often tormented from within, startled by shadows, afraid without clear cause, weighed down by an inner heaviness that no outward circumstance explains. The wicked flee, the proverb says, when no one pursues; guilt makes us afraid where there is nothing to fear, casting an inner darkness heavier than any outward one. The Egyptians in their darkness are a picture of the soul weighed down by guilt, heavier to itself than the darkness around it. This searches whether we carry such an inner darkness, and points us to its remedy. Unaddressed guilt, sin left unconfessed, casts a darkness over the soul, a heaviness and fear that come from within and that no outward light dispels. When I kept silent, the psalmist says, my bones wasted away; day and night your hand was heavy upon me. The burden of unconfessed guilt is a real and heavy darkness. But the remedy is not to flee it or endure it, but to bring the guilt into the light before God, to confess it and be forgiven. I acknowledged my sin to you, the psalmist continues, and you forgave. The inner darkness of guilt is lifted not by ignoring it but by bringing it to God for forgiveness. This calls us to deal with the guilt that casts an inner darkness rather than carrying it. If we are weighed down by an inner heaviness and fear that come from unaddressed guilt, heavier to ourselves than any outward darkness, the way out is to bring the guilt into the light before God, confessing it and receiving his forgiveness, so that the inner darkness of a troubled conscience gives way to the peace of the forgiven. The Egyptians were heavier to themselves than the darkness; and the darkness of a guilty conscience is lifted only when we bring our guilt to the God who forgives and gives peace.

Do I carry an inner darkness of fear and heaviness that comes from unaddressed guilt, a troubled conscience that torments me from within and that no outward circumstance explains, and can the Egyptians, who in their darkness were heavier to themselves than the night, along with the psalmist whose bones wasted while he kept silent, move me to bring my guilt into the light before God, confessing it and receiving his forgiveness, so that the inner darkness of a troubled conscience gives way to the peace of the forgiven?