Posts Tagged ‘light and dark’

Knowing and not knowing

March 7, 2020

Lent 2 – 2020

John 3:1-17 (Thoughts)

Marian Free

In the name of God who shines light in the darkness, exposing our weaknesses and our failure to really believe. Amen.

John’s gospel is deceptively simple, but a closer look reveals that it is full of hidden depths and secret meanings. The gospel operates on two levels – the superficial and the symbolic. From the point of view of the gospel writer it is only those who believe in Jesus who can understand the secret code and who can fully grasp the significance of Jesus and what Jesus is saying.

Underlying the gospel as a whole is a cosmic struggle between light and darkness, truth and untruth, knowing and not-knowing, eternal life and perishing and between heaven and earth. It is a struggle that Jesus ultimately wins by “conquering the world” (16:33). In the meantime, the readers or listeners to the gospel are challenged to choose – to expose themselves to the light or to stay in the dark, to open themselves to new ways of knowing or to remain in ignorance, to grasp life or to choose death.

Hidden meanings are revealed through symbolism. Double entendres (words or phrases that can be understood in one of two ways) confuse the reader exposing his or her ignorance. Misunderstandings provide Jesus with an opportunity to explain himself and encourages the listener to see things differently to be open to new ways of thinking and new ways of being. Judgement takes the form of a person’s reaction to Jesus which indicates whether they have accepted or rejected him; whether they are willing to come into the light or determined to stay in the darkness.

The purpose of this gospel, as is made clear in its final verses is to encourage people to choose Christ.[1] “Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name” (20:30-31). Throughout the gospel, readers are challenged to make a decision for Christ. Anyone who fails to come to Jesus demonstrates that they are happy to remain in the dark, that they are among those who do not know and therefore are those who are perishing.

Today’s gospel is something of a microcosm of the gospel as a whole. The richness of the symbolism and the double meanings in Jesus’ speech reveal hidden depths to what at first glance seems like a simple meeting between two educated men – Nicodemus and Jesus. Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night, suggesting that he belongs to the darkness. He is attracted to Jesus, but not so much that he is prepared to risk his reputation or his standing in the community. He comes at night to avoid being seen. Even though he has begun to understand that Jesus has come from God he is not yet prepared to acknowledge that Jesus is God, to move from the darkness to the light, to choose life rather than death.

Night or darkness in this gospel is not only the opposite of life but is also a symbol of unbelief or at least the wrong kind of belief (3:19-21). Nicodemus is a Pharisee. He believes in the God in whom Jesus believes, he shares Jesus’ Jewish faith, but as we seem his understanding is limited and constrained by what he knows. He is unable to open his mind to new possibilities of knowing. He has seen the signs that Jesus has done but cannot bring himself to accept that Jesus’ signs are meant to challenge his way of seeing the world and to encourage his way of practicing his faith. When Jesus explains that: “no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above”, Nicodemus simply cannot see Jesus’ hidden meaning. His understanding is limited to his earthly experience – being born in a physical, human sense. He is confused by the literal meaning of Jesus’ statement – it is impossible to “enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born”.  His thought processes are not flexible enough to grasp Jesus’ invitation to change from an earthly way of thinking to one that is heavenly. At this point in time, Nicodemus remains in darkness because of his failure to understand the double-meaning behind Jesus’ words and his unwillingness to grasp spiritual truths.

John’s gospel is clear. We are either for Jesus or against him. We are either in the light or in the dark. We either understand or we do not understand.

Through its dualism, symbolism and hidden meanings, the gospel challenges us to surrender our conventional ways of thinking, to let go of our preconceptions, to abandon the safety of the tried and true, and with eyes wide open and hearts full of trust to walk confidently into the new and heavenly experience that comes from truly knowing and understanding Jesus.

 

 

 

 

 

[1] Many scholars believe that chapter 21 is an addition.

Imperfect though we are, we are part of God’s story

March 11, 2017

Lent 2 – 2017

John 3:1-17

Marian Free

In the name of God overlooks all our shortcomings and believes that we have the potential to develop and grow. Amen.

As I said at Rodney’s farewell, none of us will forget Christina the Astonishing – who rose from her coffin and ascended to the ceiling of the church because she couldn’t stand the stench of human sin. Our hagiographies (our stories of saints) are filled with examples of apparently ordinary people who do extraordinary things or who bravely endure unbearable suffering. Think of Joan of Arc who not only led the armies of France in the 100 year war against England, but who with great courage faced being burned at the stake for heresy. Or of Francis of Assisi who gave up comfort, wealth and security to live a life of poverty. Or of Catherine of Alexander whose torture on a cartwheel gave the name to a whirling firework.

In our own time we have the examples of Mother Teresa who gave up everything and who untiringly worked with and for the poor and abandoned on the streets of India. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who saw the evil of the Third Reich and chose to risk his life to confront it. May Hayman and other New Guinea martyrs who chose to stay with their communities in the face of the Japanese advance in WWII rather than return home. Or Janani Luwum who was murdered by Idi Amin simply because he was an Anglican Archbishop.

While some of us might aspire to reach such exalted heights or believe that if it came to it that we would be prepared to give ourselves, our lives for our faith, most of us I suspect do not think that we will come anywhere near the deeds and courage of these and many other holy men and women.

The good news is that we do not have to be perfect to be part of God’s on-going story. We will encounter a number of characters during Lent who will prove that to be true. Nicodemus who is too afraid to meet Jesus openly, the woman who has had five husbands, the parents of the blind man, and the sisters of Lazarus who thought that Jesus had left his visit too late. These flawed, timid, unbelieving people have made it into the story of Jesus, into our Holy Scriptures despite, or perhaps because they are not perfect.

In John’s gospel Nicodemus is the first flawed person whom we meet. He is a leader of the Pharisees – a member of that sect within Judaism that placed weight on the oral tradition when it came to the interpretation of the law. There is a great deal of ambiguity in the account of the encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus, but a few things stand out. In John’s gospel, the Pharisees are depicted as the enemies of Jesus. Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night that is at a time when no one can see him. We can’t be sure if this is because he is curious, or afraid or whether he has come to challenge or outsmart Jesus on a point of law or to learn from him. What we do know is that Jesus doesn’t turn his back.

Another element to the story is the imagery of night and darkness both of which are important symbols for the author of John’s gospel. If we read to the end of the chapter this becomes blatantly clear. Jesus says: “All who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed.” (3:21) In John’s gospel as elsewhere night symbolises “unbelief or the wrong kind of belief” and darkness (the opposite of light) represents the forces that oppose Jesus.

That Nicodemus comes at night suggests that he opposes Jesus or at the very least is an unbeliever. Apparently, he cannot see beyond the superficial, he is blinded by what he thinks he knows. He is stuck , he knows that there is something different about Jesus but his own training and expectations do not allow him to see what it is ,nor do they allow him to really comprehend what Jesus is saying.

This does not mean that Jesus rejects him or refuses to speak to him. Jesus sees not the timorous, unbelieving Nicodemus, but the potential for growth and understanding. The double meanings in Jesus’ conversation are intended to open Nicodemus’ eyes, to help him to see the distinction between the purely earthly and the spiritual. Like all of us, Nicodemus can choose to turn his life over to Jesus, to begin on a fresh page, to enter into a spiritual existence. Jesus does not judge or condemn Nicodemus, he does not refuse to engage in conversation and most importantly he does not dismiss or deride him, instead Jesus gives him the opportunity to see the world from another point of view.

Jesus does not reject or dismiss Nicodemus and we can be sure that he will not reject or dismiss us.

Last week we learned that love liberates us to be truly ourselves. Today we discover that we do not have to be perfect to be a part of God’s story. When we know that we do not have to be flawless we are set free to accept ourselves as we really are. If we accept who we really are, we can be authentic, stop pretending and recognise that we have nothing to hide. This in turn will enable us to let go of feelings of inadequacy or a lack of self-worth. We will discover that this in itself is healing and will create a more honest and open relationship with God that will deepen our faith and lead to our being born from above..

Resurrection – the refusal to give evil the last word

March 26, 2016

Easter Day – 2016

Marian Free

 

Christ is risen! He is risen today! Alleluia!

Jesus Christ is risen today! The strife is o’er the battle done!

Throughout Western Christendom today, songs of triumph will ring out as believers gather to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus. In the light of recent events such triumphalism seems like a slap in the face for all those who are grieving the victims of the Brussels attacks; for those who face weeks, if not years of surgery and therapy as a result of their injuries and for those who are left wondering “who or what next?”

How is it possible to make sense of the resurrection in the light of the attacks in Brussels, the Royal Commission into child abuse, the coroner’s investigation into the Sydney siege and the pictures of the millions of refugees who would rather face a dangerous sea voyage or wait desperately at border crossings than live with war or poverty? How can we speak of victory in the face of the suffering in Syria, Yemen, Nigeria and countless other places where people just like you and I face the daily horrors of war, the gnawing pangs of hunger and that constant knowledge that it is beyond their power to do anything to protect their children?

There are days when it is difficult not to despair, to wonder if the resurrection of Jesus is an ancient fairy tale or an empty gesture. There are times when we can be forgiven for asking whether Jesus’ death and resurrection made any difference at all. It is clear to anyone who looks that the world that Jesus came to save has not changed. Everywhere we look we see poverty, oppression, injustice, discrimination, warfare and terror. Sometimes it seems as though the signs of life are overwhelmed by the ever-present evidence of death.

And yet, in the midst of horror and despair there is often evidence of life – a refusal to give in to fear and to hate, a determination to hold on and a commitment to live more fully than ever before – to demonstrate that darkness cannot extinguish the light.

It is interesting to note, that in the increasingly secular world, it is Christian symbols, symbols of the resurrection to which people turn when tragedy strikes – the light of a candle, the image of the cross, the placing of flowers, the utterance of prayers, the gathering in memory. The world may not have changed, but the resurrection is deeply embedded in our collective memory. Whether they believe in Jesus or not, at times of despair, people turn to images of the resurrection – images of hope for the future, images that remind us that life can be wrought from death. They seek comfort and support in communal ritual action and in the words of Christian hymns and prayers and they lay flowers in remembrance. Unconsciously, even those who claim not to believe will at times of trauma, turn to the story that provides the world with hope.

On Easter Eve, the Paschal Candle is lit from the new fire. In the darkness of the night the flickering flame is a reminder than when death and terror have done their worst, there is still hope, it is a sign that ultimately the darkness cannot overwhelm the light, nor evil triumph over good. The resurrection is at the centre of our faith – the extraordinary truth that God raised Jesus from the dead, so that all might live. As if that were not enough, the resurrection is also a daily reminder, that it is possible to rise above the ugliness and baseness of human nature, that human beings can and do perform extraordinary acts of selflessness, that in the midst of horror we find courage, strength and compassion and that in the presence of evil we refuse to be cowed or to live our lives in fear[1].

In a world that is far from transformed, the resurrection of Jesus gives us confidence that good will triumph over evil, that love will conquer hate and that life will prove to be stronger than death. Jesus’ resurrection is a sign of hope, a light in the darkness, a reason to hold on when all seems to be lost.

This is why, even in the midst of despair, we can say with absolute confidence “Christ is risen. He is risen indeed! Alleluia!”

 

[1] Within hours of the explosions in Brussels, locals had arrived at the airport volunteering to drive travelers to other cities. When the earthquake struck Christchurch, people mobilized to get food and water to those who were cut off. When the traffic was stuck because of a major accident, a woman bought bottles of water and distributed them. Simple actions, reminders of the goodness of human nature, the willingness to make sacrifices – small or big and of the determination not to let evil or tragedy have the last word.