Gospel: John 18:1 – 19:42
In this very familiar passage we find nearly all the elements thought of as part of the last hours of Jesus’ life. His time in the garden with his disciples. His arrest. The denials of Peter. His interrogations by Caiaphas and Pilate. His condemnation. His carrying the cross to Golgotha, the cross on which he would then be hung. His death. All are aspects of today’s narrative which we know well.
But if you were listening closely just a moment ago you may have heard me say we find nearly all the elements. In reflecting on the passage this week it occurred to me that what we don’t find is something overtly present in each of the other Gospels. We don’t find darkness.
In the three Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) we see nearly identical versions of a line first written in Mark: “At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.”[1] We even find similar references in non-canonical gospels such as the early second century Gospel of Peter, where we read, “But it was midday, and darkness held fast all Judea.”[2] Darkness came over the whole earth – or, in the words of the poet James Weldon Johnson, “The midday sun refused to shine.”[3]
So in this passage from John we don’t see the word darkness, but darkness was very present and very real that day: on Golgotha; throughout the world; and found as the overwhelming grief in the hearts of family, friends, and followers. The light that was Jesus’ life went dark. The light that was his mission was extinguished.
There’s something else I see in these last, dark hours of Jesus’ life: the undoing of creation. Think back to the beginning, to the words of Genesis. “When God began to create heaven and earth, and the earth was then welter and waste and darkness over the deep, God’s breath hovering over the waters, God said, ‘Let there be light.’”[4] Before the first words of God were spoken darkness was present; it was into that void that God introduced light. God created light. Over it all God’s breath – God’s spirit – was present, moving and at work.
Now we return to the passage from John. The light created by God is now gone, replaced by darkness. The spirit of God at work in creation and moving through the person of Christ is now given up by Jesus at the time of death. Light and spirit introduced in the beginning; light and spirit removed in what at the time was thought to be the end.
Darkness is something many want to avoid. Young children are often afraid of the dark because they can’t see who or what is moving through the darkness; hence the need for night lights. But that fear doesn’t end in childhood. People of any age can be afraid of the dark because there’s no way to tell what it contains or is hiding. For anyone who values the known, darkness can be fearful because it represents the unknown. We move into darkness wondering where and when – or even if – we’ll come out on the other side.
With this passage we move into the darkness with those gathered at the foot of the cross. The difference is that we have the benefit of hindsight and know what’s to come. On that Friday more than 2,000 years ago, all they knew was darkness with no hope for light. So I invite you to try and live through this night and tomorrow reflecting on the darkness and what those first followers of Jesus were feeling. Reflect on their fear. Reflect on their grief. In fact, use it as a lens to reflect on the things that may be troubling you.
But do all these things remembering this: the more we dwell in darkness, the more magnificent the light will be when it breaks through. We’ll have a chance to rejoice soon; we know that’s coming. For now, though, live as the earliest followers of Christ. Dwell in the darkness and live in hope for the light that is to come.
Amen.
[1] Mark 15:33 (NRSV).
[2] Raymond E. Brown. The Death of the Messiah: Volume 2, p. 1032.
[3] James Weldon Johnson, “The Crucifixion.” Poetry Nook website, https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/crucifixion-12.
[4] Genesis 1:1-3. Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible: A Translation and Commentary – The Five Books of Moses, p. 11.