And this is the judgment, that the light’s come into the world and people loved the darkness instead of the light; for, what they do is evil. You see, everyone who does bad things hates the light. They don’t even come near the light; because, if they did their actions would be exposed. But those who act in truth come to the light so that they can show that their actions have been accomplished through God (John 3.19-21).
I found myself this week chasing down the word aletheia, the word that’s translated as truth. John likes this word, he used it over twenty times in his Gospel, culminating with Pilate asking “What is truth?”
At its root, aletheia means something not hidden, something unconcealed. Truth, then, is something that isn’t covered up. So, what Jesus is saying, is those who act in aletheia are those who don’t run and hide.
In the garden, Adam and Eve hear the Voice of the Holy One. They hide. “Your voice,” they say, “I heard it in the garden. And I was afraid; because, I was naked. So, I hid.” And, so, it began. We’ve been hiding our naked selves ever since.
I’ve heard today’s verses from John’s Gospel recited when some revelation comes out about someone in the public eye. When accusers come forward, telling the story of what has, until now, been hidden, too often we as Christians go to this passage and, with more than a little satisfaction, say, “Aha, you see. Nothing can be hidden from God.”
But, in the Garden, the Holy One doesn’t find those who’ve hidden their naked selves. No, God stands there, amidst the trees and asks, “Where are you?”
I’m not saying that God did not know where the humans had hidden. I am noting that the Divine, rather than flush them out of the trees, stands in the midst of the world and asks where they’ve hidden. Maybe, in that question, asks why.
The Holy One, we’re told, can’t abide sin. Sin and the Divine cannot exist in the same space. That is why they hid, isn’t it? Their naked bodies were oozing with sin. Their Creator would expel them immediately upon seeing them.
But is that what Jesus is getting at?
Those who do bad things don’t come to the light. In fact, they hate the light. Why is that? Is it because the light reveals their naked, sinful selves?
Or is because that light is love?
Listen again: their actions would be exposed. The things they’ve done will be right there, uncovered and unhidden. They would be known for what they are. We would be seen as selfish, greedy, unloving people in all our naked glory. But is that why we hate it, because what we’ve done will be known?
Is it because we will be loved anyway?
We were afraid, the first humans said, so we hid. What were they afraid of? Afraid of punishment, of destruction, of anger and wrath? Or were they afraid God, having seen them, would no longer love them?
They hate the light, Jesus says, because their actions will be exposed. And in that exposure, they’ll find the naked bodies they loathe are loved. We’ll find that despite the misshapen toes and flabby hips, the untoned arms and less-than-firm chests we are loved.
And we may find ourselves acting, living unconcealed lives that declare the grace of living in love.
Light of Love, you call me out of my hiding places when I think I’m beyond love. When I am feeling ugly and imperfect, you come calling my name wondering where I’ve gone off to hide. I am afraid, though I don’t want to be, of your light. I’m afraid of seeing what that light reveals, and I’d really rather stay in the dark. So give me courage to step out from behind the trees, into your light. And help me love, as you do, what it reveals.