It’s a rather odd mix to go out into the darkness at night for the purpose of encountering the Light of the world. As we pass through another Lent with a pandemic holding on for dear life, one of the spiritual images of Lent is to head into the desert. For anyone who has ever physically been in a desert, there is the odd mix of total darkness – no streetlights – coupled with enough stars to keep us counting for years on end. The darkness of the desert ground encounters every night the countless bright lights shining above. The reason we are invited by the Church to enter the spiritual desert is that our personal darkness, either brought on by ourselves through sin, or maybe sent down from above for testing purposes, that our internal darkness encounter through prayer, fasting, and almsgiving the Light of the world. Lent is raised up as a time to kick ourselves into gear, and bring any darkness to the Lord and say, “Forgive me, Lord.” Or “Help me, Lord.” Or “This is yours, Lord, because on my own I cannot handle it.” Whatever our darkness is. This is our takeaway for the 4th Sunday of this fast-moving Lent and her 3 readings today. In the 1st reading, the Israelites encounter God in the misery of Babylon. God uses the Persians, of all people, to lead His people back to the Promised Land. Did you ever receive help from someone on a very important matter that you never expected from them? And they came through for you? That happens to Israel with Persia. Receiving assistance from unexpected sources has a wonderful Scriptural precedent. The darkness of Hebrew captivity in Babylon encountered God using the unexpected light of the Persians to return freedom to a whole nation. In the 2nd reading, St. Paul so lovingly reminds us that we were dead in our transgressions. We were breathing; we had mobility; we enjoyed some Coney Island hot dogs. But as we did all that and so much more, we were dead. And what happened in that total darkness of hating ourselves and others? As St. Paul writes, “God … brought us to life with Christ.” The darkness of sin encountered the light of Christ, and lost. And it was pretty lopsided in our favor. Through God’s grace, his favor, his love, we have been saved through faith. We didn’t deserve it. We did nothing but cause trouble. Yet, we have the light of life. In the Gospel, the uncertainty of Nicodemus, as the story goes, causes this curious Pharisee to search out Jesus in the night. What is this good Pharisee curious about? He feels the push of the Spirit to go and find out for himself who this Jesus really is. He cannot do so in the daylight because his Pharisee cohorts will see him and accuse him of befriending this guy claiming mighty things about himself. Have you ever been accused of being too close to Jesus? If so, you have a badge of honor. So, to prevent his being treated roughly, Nicodemus must approach the Lord in a sneaky way in the darkness of night. He brings the darkness of his uncertainty of who Jesus is, the Divine Son of God, and walks it directly in the darkness of night to the Light of the world. With all these very familiar verses in this Gospel; that “God so loved the world that he gave us his only Son, so that those who believe in him might not perish, but might have eternal life.” And, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.” What rises above even these incredibly hopeful verses from John chapter 3, is Nicodemus taking his darkness, his uncertainties, his questions, his fears, and bringing them to an encounter with the Light of the world. This Gospel also says that people preferred darkness to light. Such darkness will be chasing us until the heart stops beating. Be it our cooperation with sin; be it the physical, emotional, or spiritual suffering we have thrust upon us. The darkness is forever chasing us in this world of anxiety and uncertainty. But may we prefer the light. The light of his virtues. The light of faith. The light of hope and his unconditional love displayed so well on the Cross. It’s beyond sad to witness anyone prefer darkness over light. You just want to shake them out of their boots and say, “Prefer the Light! He prefers you!” Whether we seek Jesus in the daylight or the night, in solitary or busy places, may we bring every ounce of our darkness to him, the Light of the world, following in the footsteps of Nicodemus.