“Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds.” - John 19.39, NRSV
When this was read at the Good Friday service today, I was amazed at how such a powerful sentence goes almost unnoticed, sandwiched in the middle of a paragraph. That someone who was afraid to be seen, is suddenly declaring open allegiance to a person who was considered a threat to the state.
I remember when I didn’t want anyone to know I was a Christian in my new, recovered life. It was just over two years ago when my priest graced me with instruction that the Holy Spirit will act for me when I am too afraid to act for myself, through Christ.
Lately, I’ve been a lot more brave. I would like to think the Holy Spirit has been gently working through me as I have been able to share more openly about attending church and observing the holidays. Getting married in the church next week has also given me permission to openly share about my faith in a very non-confrontational way: after all, lots of people are married, and lots of marriages take place in churches.
I have wrestled with what it means to be a Christian, or maybe more specifically, an evangelist, which is ultimately the call of the Christian. Through contemplation and consultation, I have been able to surmise that it’s okay to be softer, quieter. Having a more hidden ministry allows me to remain in spaces that would maybe not tolerate me otherwise, effecting change prayerfully, and sharing light gratefully. Jesus also had a hidden ministry, telling people to “tell no one”, until his hour had come.
I was very proud to be in those spaces and in a way, I still am. My presence in these spaces has been a confirmation that I have “made it” - that I beat my dis-ease which isolated me and am now an integrated and accepted member of urban community. And while this is technically still true even as I let the Holy Spirit work through me, I have paradoxically been humbled in my rising up, which is really just my cooperation with God. It’s not about me and what I can do in secular society - it’s how I can, through the power of the Holy Spirit, lift others up and remind them of their sacredness in ordinary, everyday life.
I relate to Nicodemus – the wayward follower of Jesus who was ashamed and afraid of his calling, only to come out and be brave after Jesus had died. That is incredible faith, to place himself in danger, knowing that there was no real shield to protect him. Perhaps I will come to my own hour, when I am bold like certain influencers I am inspired by, but until then, I must honour where I am at, just as Christ so patiently waited for me to fully surrender to him, never denying me the good things he had to offer, even in my distraction.
