Barbara Brown Taylor authored an incredible book called Learning to Walk in the Dark. Published in 2014, Taylor explores the dark and being in the dark as a way of reclaiming the dark as a place of hope and growth rather than being a place and time of fear and hopelessness. This idea of walking in the dark is one of Brown Taylor’s metaphors for what it is like to be a person of faith right now, in this world. It is also an attempt at redeeming what the world and the church has for the most part cast as evil or dangerous.
The ideas and reflections Brown Taylor offers in her book show how the reclaiming of darkness has impacted how she views the role of the dark both in our scriptures and quiet possibly in our faith journeys (depending on how the book resonates with you). For centuries, the church has touted the light or brightness as being pure, divine, holy, somehow better. In contrast the dark is, well, the opposite of all those things, lacking all the positive attributes associated with light.
And into this Brown Taylor asks: Can’t God work in the darkness too? Can’t God teach us in the dark as well?
The polarization of light and dark isn’t isolated to the church. This juxtaposition of light and dark has filtered into society as well, particularly into our race relationships, to the point where the church and the world have to re-evaluate and re-learn how we use the words: light and dark, black and white.
It’s very easy to see how the church has fallen into the habit of using light to represent all things good – the Gospel of John says very clearly that Jesus is the light of the world, and nothing, not even the darkness, can snuff that light out. 1 John, the epistle, tells that God is light and in God there is no darkness at all.
But the scripture also shows us that God is indeed found in the darkness. God’s covenant with Abraham was made in the darkness of night. Jacob wrestled with God in the dark, receiving a new name and a blessing. Both Moses and Jesus encounter God on a mountain, in a dense cloud.
And then there’s Nicodemus. A man of education and status comes to Jesus in the middle of the night, the darkest hour of the night in fact. You almost miss this on the way to the more well known verses in the passage – like this one: “no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Or as some translations have it – “Being born again” which becomes THE verse for the born again Christian movement. Don’t forget the most famous, likely most quoted verse: “God so loved the earth, that God gave God’s only son so that whoever believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Born again? How? Why? How will I know if it happens?
Oh and when you read John 3:16, where is the emphasis? Is it: for God so loved the world that God gave God’s only child so that WHOEVER BELIEVES… or is it For God so loved THE WORLD that God gave God’s only child…
Which is it? Whoever believes or the whole world? The distinction matters. Ironically enough, I find myself in the dark about this verse. But then so are Jesus and Nicodemus – quite literally as the words are spoken in the dark of night, to a man who is just as confused as we are about the meaning.
Now some will describe Nicodemus as a religious uppity up who is only talking to Jesus in order to teach the rabbi a thing or two about faith. Others show us a Nicodemus who isn’t the sharpest tack in the pack, who is destined to misunderstand everything that Jesus tries to teach him. But I wonder if there is another way for us to see Nicodemus? Could we see Nic as a person who is desperately trying to learn to walk in the dark?
More often than not, when we leave the comfort of home in the middle of the night it’s because we are desperate. Middle of the night fevers that won’t break have parents leaving home to drive to the ER in the middle of the night. Broken relationships needing reconciliation make friends, family or lovers drive miles as night to find healing.
Seeking answers for deep questions of faith that will make or break the relationship shared with God drove Nicodemus to find Jesus at midnight. The lights of everything he had worked for and everything thing he thought he knew had gone out. The things he relied on are no longer reliable. His world is spinning and all he has is his hands and feet to steady himself and to find a path forward.
Often in our own desperation we find ourselves looking for more information, more answers. We need something to learn, something we can master, and then we can stand on the confidence of having conquered it. And sometimes the things we are looking for, the things we need for our growth are waiting for us in the darkest of night, germinating and waiting for nurture, like the seeds that await spring in the nurturing darkness of the ground.
Amen.
