I like fire.
One of my favorite lines in the prayer book is, “In the darkness fire is kindled.”
That is the rubric, the instructions, for how to begin the Great Vigil of Easter.
In the night between sunset Saturday night and sunrise Easter morning we kindle a fire in the front yard of the church. The bigger the better. I wonder how big we can get away with?
The darkness is pushed back, and the light grows and spreads.
Moving from darkness into light, from night into day.
The night can be a lonely place, the world sleeps, but not everyone, we even have a prayer for those who are up at night, “For those who work or watch or weep this night.”
Sleepless nights, watching the ceiling, wandering the house, walking the streets, working, prowling.
I wonder if our cultures current fascination with vampires has something to do with the awareness that there is a whole other world at night with its own population, a fringe culture.
The two worlds only meeting at Waffle House as the night ends and the sun slowly rises, the change of shift.
In the words of the old disco song by Alicia Bridges, “I love the night life.”
John’s Gospel is full of language about moving from blindness into sight, from death to life, from empty to full, from dark to light, from petty to extravagant, from night to day.
Nicodemus visited Jesus at night. Not just secretly, but in darkness. He was one of the religious authorities who were threatened by Jesus, who were out to get him, who would eventually orchestrate his death. But Nicodemus wasn’t like the others, he had serious questions, he was more than curious.
Nicodemus is one of a handful of characters in John’s Gospel, besides the disciples, who shows up repeatedly. Nicodemus shows up three times.
The first time is the visit by night.
The second time is as a voice of reason amidst the religious authorities’ outrage over Jesus.
The third time is after Jesus dies. He assists in taking Jesus body away and he brings 100 pounds of spices to wrap around Jesus body with linen cloth, preparing him for burial.
It is an extravagant amount of spice, a ludicrous amount of spice, a crazy amount, an expression of love that is beyond reason.
And Nicodemus does this in the day.
From night to day. The faith of Nicodemus.
From secret curiosity, to rational defense, and then crazy love, adoration of the body that is holy. A hundred pounds of aloe and myrrh.
Crazy love for the one whose body is lifted up, extravagant love for the body that connects heaven and earth, ludicrous adoration for the body that is the presence of God.
How do we live in that presence?
Secretly by night? With reasonable and good taste? Or a love that is extravagant and flamboyant? Do we dare adore?
Will we kindle a fire in the darkness?