Sermon for March 5, 2023 – The Second Sunday in Lent

Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm 121; Romans 4:1-5,13-17; John 3:1-17

Living by faith in darkness

What is it about darkness and the night that puts us on our guard and makes us long for the light?

When I was a child, I did not like darkness at all. That meant I needed to have a nightlight in my room. If we were traveling my parents would make sure to pack the nightlight. For whatever reasons, that little light cast away the shadows and comforted my mind, so that I could sleep. Looking back on it now, I couldn’t tell you as to the reasons why I was afraid of the dark, but I distinctly remember the need for a night light. I imagine it is the same reasons that most kids are initially afraid of the dark; it’s when our imaginations are running wild as our brains teeter on the edge of being awake and asleep; the edge of perceived reality and our deep conscience. As I grew older, I grew out of that fear of what might be lurking under the bed and learned that the night is not to be feared, but it is a necessary part of a never-ending cycle of darkness and light, of rest and action in God’s creation.

As a child, I was afraid of physical darkness, but in my early twenties I was afraid of the darkness inside me; the deep dark night that tried to block the light from within. I spent a year staying awake all night, tossing and turning, longing for sleep, longing for the sun to come. And just as dawn broke and rays of light shined forth from the horizon to chase away the lingering shadows, I would then fall asleep, only for the cycle to start again. It was one of the most brutal experiences of depression.

It was an emotional and spiritual darkness that made me feel like I was wandering through the night with nothing to guide me. I felt alone, lost, and I was walking in the darkness without meaning or purpose. Even during the day, the darkness was still present. As F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote, “In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o’clock in the morning,” meaning that even in that light of day the darkness felt suffocating.  And of course, nothing good happens at three in the morning. Or does it?

It is under the cover of night that our friend Nicodemus comes to seek out knowledge and the light. In Nicodemus is a man with deep training and knowledge of scripture, tradition, and law as a Pharisee, a teacher of Israel. He is also a man who has heard the teachings of Jesus and has come to seek him out. He is an unlikely character to be a follower of Jesus.

He emerges out of the night’s darkness, seeking light from the teacher he believes to be sent from God. Just as suddenly as he appears, Nicodemus disappears back into the night from whence he came. Just before he does so, Jesus tells him one must be born anew in order to see the kingdom of God. Through this cryptic statement, Jesus is inviting Nicodemus to go deeper and to enter into a new paradigm of knowing God through the spirit and the heart. To be born again into a new relationship with God. This would have been difficult for a Pharisee to understand as this is not an academic pursuit, logic and reason do not apply. But through this conversation with Jesus, Nicodemus begins his journey out of the darkness of unknowing and into the light. It is a journey to be closer to the God of mercy, grace, and love. This is a journey to push deeper, beyond the ego and the rational mind, towards the heart to find the God who dwells in him and in each of us. We too are on this journey of transformation; filled with highs and lows, darkness and light, all of which help to shape who we are.

As part of my spiritual direction training I had the pleasure of reading the works of Saints John of the Cross and Theresa of Avila, who are part of our rich mystical tradition. And in his classic poem, “The Dark Night,” Saint John of the Cross offers us a different perspective to the darkness we encounter.

The poem narrates the journey of the soul to mystical union with God. The journey is called “The Dark Night” in part because darkness represents the fact that the destination, God, is unknowable:

“In an obscure night
Fevered with love’s anxiety
(O hapless, happy plight!)
I went, none seeing me
Forth from my house, where all things quiet be”

This opening verse sets the tone for the poem as the soul departs the safety and comfort of the home so that it can make the journey alone towards God in the dead of night. During this journey, the soul is slowly stripped of all that is unnecessary leaving it bare before God. The “dark night of the soul” does not refer to the difficulties of life in general, although the phrase has understandably been taken to refer to such trials. The nights which the soul experiences are the necessary steps on the path to Divine union. They aid us in shedding the weight of our old selves so that we might grow more fully in our lives in Christ. The poem, then, is about the joyful experience of being guided to God. The only light in this dark night is that which burns in the soul. The light of the heart. This light leads the soul engaged in the mystical journey to Divine union.

So, how is it then that we are to live by faith in the midst of the darkness that seeks to surround us? How do we live by faith when the darkness inside us seeks to extinguish the light of Christ that dwells in the very core of our being?

Nicodemus and Saint John point us in the right direction. As the darkness creeps in around us we must seek out the light. We must seek out the light within by entering into stillness and silence. We must try to let go of the clutter that blocks the light and that separates us from God. When we harm ourselves and others we must seek forgiveness from God. We must seek out the light by coming here to this table each and every week to be strengthened and renewed through communion with God and each other.

We may want to run away from the darkness out of fear of the unknown and that is all the more reason why we shouldn’t run, but sit. And Saints John and Theresa teach us, if we sit in the darkness we will discover that God is indeed at work, even through the darkest nights. As our psalmist writes, “He who watches you will not fall asleep…The Lord shall watch over your going and your coming in.” For they understood that these nights are necessary for our spiritual transformation.

So, let us sit in the darkness. Let us acknowledge our fears, our worries, our attachments, our clutter and offer them to God, so that through the dark nights we may be transformed and reborn by the light of Jesus Christ. Amen.