Darkness of the Womb

Walking at Night Illustration

Growing up in the Ozarks, I had a forest of a wilderness behind our family home. I remember squeezing my way through barbed wire fences and into that wooded area so I could play.

Some days I would pretend to be the commander of some great military force sweeping through the forests against some unseen invader. Other days I would be an adventurer exploring a new world.

Whatever game I chose, one thing remained constant. As the sun would start to sink lower in the horizon, I would make my way back home. While I knew those woods like the back of my hand… I didn’t want to be out there at night. Walking in the dark was something that I tried to avoid at all costs. The darkness was dangerous.

And that was true even when I was inside our house. From the age of about 6, I had a bedroom to myself. And I remember how amazing that seemed up until the lights would go out and the fears would creep in.

My mom would come in, turn on the light, show me all was well, and then I could get back to bed… maybe.

I don’t know why I thought the darkness was so dangerous, but it certainly seemed to be. Eventually, my parents came up with a way to help me with that fear. They made the darkness disappear. Rather than having to deal with that which caused me fear, we banished the darkness. We put in a nightlight.

Nicodemus being cast into darkness

In our gospel lesson today we hear the familiar story of Nicodemus going to Jesus at night. Now Nicodemus was no young child. He doesn’t seem to be afraid to be out at night. He’s out there, after the sun has set, continuing his work as a pharisee.

This particular night, he comes to Jesus. And what he says is a bit of a surprise for us as readers. As he finds Jesus he begins to profess his faith in who he believes Jesus is.

As Nicodemus comes to the new Messiah on the block, he says, “Rabbi.” It’s a title of respect, a title given to one who is a teacher… a mentor even. And he continues, “We know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.”

Here we are, chapter three of the Gospel of John, and we have a leader of the Jews professing his faith that Jesus is from God. And, if we listen closely, Nicodemus isn’t just talking for himself. Here, listen one more time to what he says, “Rabbi, WE know that you are a teacher who has come from God.” Nicodemus represents a group of Jews, perhaps even a group of pharisees who believe that Jesus is from God but aren’t necessarily ready to jump off the deep-end yet.

Now, we might think this would be a good opportunity for Jesus to say, “Hey! You’re right! I’m glad someone finally figured it out. Now, let’s get down to business I have some teaching that I need to do and you’re going to help me do it.”

It’s not hard to imagine Jesus taking Nicodemus and whoever else is was with him and starting his own school of theology right there in Jerusalem.

But instead, Jesus shocks the old Pharisee by saying this, “no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

Now remember, Nicodemus had not asked any questions about the afterlife just yet. He hadn’t asked what one must do to earn God’s favor to enter through the eternal gates of heaven. All he said, is that he believed Jesus was from God. And that he trusted that the miracles that Jesus had been doing proved just that.

But now Nicodemus has been thrown for a loop. While his first words to Jesus were a confession of confident faith in who Jesus was, these next words that he speaks are full of question and concern.

And he asks a very fitting question here, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

Nicodemus had come to Jesus with a sense of being enlightened. But Jesus endarkened the Pharisee. Confidence for him had bene shaken as the darkness of uncertainty surrounds him.

Jesus responds, No one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. He emphasizes again that one must be born from above. And then, to further endarken Nicodemus, Jesus says, “The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

And Nicodemus simply responds, “How can these things be?”

Those are the last words we hear from Nicodemus in this passage. Words of doubt, confusion, question… wrestling.

Endarkment

While Nicodemus did not seem to have an issue walking out into the blackness of the night to see Jesus, he did not seem to do well with being in the dark when it came to God.

You see, Nicodemus had come up with a winning plan on how to get to heaven. He had believed that if he strictly followed the law of Torah that God would be pleased with him and God would let him in. Following the Torah was his way of plugging in a nightlight and vanishing the darkness of doubt when it comes to death. A strong commitment to follow the laws would drive the darkness out and help him to live in the light. Or at least, that’s what he was hoping for.

And instead, we hear Jesus dousing the flames of Nicodemus’ false hope and allowing him to dwell in the darkness that he could not get to heaven through his works.

Barbara Brown Taylor, former Episcopalian Priest turned prolific author writes in her book, Walking in the Dark that “darkness” is shorthand for anything that scares me—that I want no part of—either because I am sure that I do not have the resources to survive it or because I do not want to find out.”

She further defines the darkness for herself, “The absence of God is in there, along with the fear of dementia, and the loss of those nearest and dearest to me. So is the melting of polar ice caps, the suffering of children, and the nagging question of what it will feel like to die.”

And she talks about her frustrations with how the church handles darkness at times. Speaking on how she has experienced what she calls “full solar spirituality” in many churches. It’s that certain, unwavering sense that God’s presence is always there, that there is a certainty in belief, that we receive divine guidance in ALL things, and that members strive to be positive in attitude, firm in conviction, helpful in relationships, and unwavering in their faith.

In such a setting, darkness has no place. And it seems like an amazing place to be a part of… to dwell in God’s light 24/7 and to join in on that firm confident unwavering jubilance. That is, until, darkness enters your own life and you lose your job, or a marriage falls apart, or someone you love dies and you begin to doubt.

And what she says has been her experience of the church next is interesting. She says that you can speak of these doubts once or twice within that full solar church… you can speak of the things that bring fear and anxiety… and you’ll likely find support. But continue to speak of those fears and the well-meaning response will be that the darkness experienced is your own fault, because you don’t have enough faith.

It’s interesting, with that in mind, that it is Jesus of all people who seems to be endarkening Nicodemus in our reading today. Nicodemus came to Jesus with a statement of faith, and Jesus responds with words that create confusion, create doubt and yes… create darkness for Nicodemus… as he ponders on what comes next after this life.

We need to remember that Nicodemus was likely in the twilight of his own life. He had likely noticed that he was attending more funerals of people he knew from his youth as of late. Alumni announcements from his class got higher on the list and there were fewer and fewer of them. He knows full well where his path is leading him. And he, of all people in Jesus’ time, had been preparing himself to get ready for what comes next. Again, it had been his life’s work to live Torah… to prove himself to God… to do what was necessary to be ready for the tomb so that he might find a sunny day on the other side.

And now, as he hears Jesus’ words of needing to be born again… it all seems impossible and all Nicodemus is able to see is the darkness a the tomb. An eternal darkness that he had been trying desperately to avoid.

A Womb

Now, earlier in my sermon I mentioned that the question that Nicodemus asks Jesus was a very apt one. He asked, “Can a person enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

And while his mind is racing toward the improbabilities of this impractical idea… he is spot on to lift up the language of ‘womb’ as Jesus speaks of being born of the Spirit. What if we run with that idea of being inside the womb just a bit. Not in the sense that Nicodemus was wondering… not in the sense of trying to re-enter our Mother’s womb… but being in the womb of the Holy Spirit.

Rather than understanding the threshold of this life into the next as a tomb… what if we indeed understood it as a womb?

Like us, ancient Jews believed emotions were connected with certain organs. As an example, in our society today we tend to talk about love coming from our (?) heart. Right.

Well, for the Jews of Jesus’ day, they believed that love and compassion came from the belly… and, more specifically among women, from the womb. The womb was understood as a place bearing the gift of life. A place where love and compassion came forth from and abounded into the world.

But when we’re in the womb, it is a place of darkness where we don’t understand what is beyond. That membrane of flesh, or in this case spirit, holds us in. It protects us and keeps us close. But we also have a hard time understanding that which exists on the other side of the womb.

How fitting that Jesus speaks then of our need of being born from above… born of the Spirit. Because this suggests also, as Nicodemus inadvertently implied, that we are then carried by the Spirit before we enter the kingdom.

Now darkness is darkness… and the unknown can incite angst to be sure. But God does not stop being God of all creation when the sun sinks over the horizon. God does not stop being our God when night comes in. God does not stop being God as we find ourselves in the darkness. No. God is still God. As we find ourselves in the darkness it does not need to be a bad thing. We can learn much from the darkness of the soul. Because God is present there too.

Listen to Isaiah 66:7-9 as we hear of how God offered words of comfort and promise to the people of Israel caught up in the Babylonian Exile. As the people found themselves struggling in the darkness of captivity in Babylon and fear the darkness of death… God offers the vision of the womb there as well:

7 Before she was in labor

she gave birth;

before her pain came upon her

she delivered a son.

8 Who has heard of such a thing?

Who has seen such things?

Shall a land be born in one day?

Shall a nation be delivered in one moment?

Yet as soon as Zion was in labor

she delivered her children.

9 Shall I open the womb and not deliver? says the LORD;

shall I, the one who delivers, shut the womb? says your God.

In the first two verses we hear the people wishing to simply be free without going through the time of darkness. And God says, have you heard of anyone delivering a child before labor even began? No. There is a dwelling within the darkness that takes place… but it does not mean that they are alone or forgotten. A child in a womb is loved even when the child is unaware of the parent. And so too God is still God to Israel even in the darkness of captivity.

As Israel was afraid of a tombstone being erected in Babylon for their people, God said that they were within the darkness of a womb. That though there may yet be struggle ahead… and though they can not see the way… that God would deliver them through. Because God delivers. That is what God does… that is who God is.

And if the people have question about whether or not they can trust God to come through for them and for us in the final moments… we hear the question posed in verse 9 would God, the one who delivers, shut the womb?

When the head of the babe is finally seen, what God push the babe back and deny this young one new life? No… because that is not how a deliverer a child works.

No. The deliverer guides the baby out, cradling the baby first by the head and then the torso.

And then the One who delivers takes the child and works to clean the air passages, to help the little one breath as they struggle. Even to help them cry, for that cry is news of life beyond the womb.

The Deliverer takes every effort to help that newborn receive that breath of new life.

Our Darkness

And so we hear Jesus say the powerful and familiar words of John 3:16-17

The New Revised Standard Version Nicodemus Visits Jesus

16 “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

17 “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

Jesus is telling Nicodemus and company that God did not send the Son into the world to shut the womb… to say that death will have the final word. But to remind us that the darkness of confusion that we face is a darkness because we are in a womb. We are in a time of inbetween where we do not have the ability to understand what lies beyond.

But Christ is the reminder of the parent that loves and cares for the infant yet unborn. Christ is the reminder of God’s incredible compassion for us who are in the darkness and that it’s ok that at times there is darkness around us. Whether its fear of death or dementia or job loss or whatever else… because even when the lights are out God is still God. And God is the great deliverer.

When you find yourself in dark places, consider the womb. Consider the challenge of knowing what is beyond the womb. Consider the opportunity to listen for presence of our Heavenly parent. And remember that our Savior’s priority is breath new life into us who God calls and claims.

Walk in the darkness. It’s ok. God is there too. And God’s presence means womb, not tomb.... life not death.

Peace be with you, Dear Church. Amen.