Are you afraid of the dark?
I was out at Camp Wyman last night, for our Luke 18 retreat. At one point, I needed to touch base with one of the parent chaperones who was settling in to the cabin, before the kids came down. Once I got down to the bottom of the hill and was on the road, I flipped off the light on my cell phone just to see what it was like. I had been warned by a parent at fish fry that it was pretty dark out there. It was. Very dark, in fact. I heard the wind in the trees. And the crunch of gravel under my feet. And then, I heard a crackling of branches in the woods – which let me know that I was NOT alone. I had no idea WHAT it was, or where it was, only THAT it was. And even though my eyes had adjusted to the little light there was, I could not ‘see’ much that was going on around me. Had I not been to Camp Wyman before, I would understand why it could be a scary place. And I understood again why it is easy to be afraid of the dark.
Today’s gospel gives us a slightly different take on why it might be prudent to be afraid of the dark – but not exactly in the way you might think. John warns us, initially, through the character of Nicodemus who appears three times in his gospel.
When John introduces the person of Nicodemus in his gospel, he is careful to record that “He came to Jesus at night.” While it was dark. While his actions would not been seen by many, if any. The forces were already lining up against Jesus. To come even to ask of him questions would make you a bit of a political pariah. And certainly to come to Jesus as a Pharisee and a member of the Sanhedrin, after the cleansing of the temple, would have been even more risky. So, Nicodemus comes ‘at night’ – when things are not clearly seen; when the darkness can hide the movements of the heart. He comes when the dark seems to be your ally against the choice of commitment.
Nicodemus appears again in a debate about “what to do with Jesus”, and though not siding directly with Jesus, he recommends to his peers “to hear Jesus out to find out what he is doing.” Immediately he is taunted by his fellow Pharisees and members of the Sanhedrin. Finally, he appears at the Cross, taking the body of Jesus down from it, and helping with the burial rites. In Nicodemus, then, we see revealed one of the great themes of John’s gospel – the movement from the dark to the light.
“This is the verdict, that the light came into the world,
but people preferred darkness to light, because their works were evil.
For everyone who does wicked things hates the light
and does not come toward the light,
so that his works might not be exposed.
But whoever lives the truth comes to the light…”
John is careful to note the fact that Nicodemus does not stay in the dark. In those three encounters, we see that movement from the night to the light. And thus Nicodemus becomes the poster child of every sinner who struggles in the dark, the model for all who recognize that something is wrong, and slowly, and surely, move toward the light.
On Tuesday, we had a priests’ study day about a pastoral response to the images that are so readily available on the internet, TV and throughout our society. Msgr. Griesedeick set the tone by describing his own recovery from alcohol. He said so clearly: “With any addiction – the enemy is hiddeness! The enemy is the dark. The enemy is secrecy – the keeping of the addiction out of sight. It is only when one brings the behaviors out into the light that recovery is possible.”
Nicodemus would have smiled.
You see, Christians SHOULD be afraid of the dark. Not the exterior dark of the roads at Camp Wyman, but of all that we keep hidden, tucked away from the light in our hearts. All that we fear to make know, even in the sacrament of reconciliation. All that we would hide from the one who is our Savior. We were not born for the darkness, but for light, for glory, for the splendor of God.
SO – get thyself to confession between now and Easter. Do a quick examine of your heart. What is still ‘of the darkness’ in you? And then fear, not the darkness, but only the choice to stay there…