Rev. T. Denise Anderson

John 3:16 is arguably the most recognizable verse in the New Testament. It’s a full and true statement by itself. But, like all verses in Scripture, we miss so much without the context around it.

The passage is part of Jesus’ discourse with Nicodemus, a religious leader who visits him at night for a conversation. Jesus speaks of being born from above, but Nicodemus is confused. Jesus breaks it down this way: I know what I’m talking about because I came from heaven, and I came so that the world might be saved from condemnation, though there are many who prefer to remain hidden because “their deeds were evil.”

John’s gospel doesn’t intimate this, but it’s speculated that Nicodemus came to Jesus at night to keep this conversation a secret. Jesus wasn’t exactly popular among Nicodemus’ set because he challenged them. If this is true, I wonder if Nicodemus saw himself in Jesus’ comment about those who love to remain hidden (Note: While light [phos] and pigment [chroma] are different, I choose not to use “darkness” here because there’s an historical practice of distorting scripture’s light/dark dichotomy to reinforce colorism and anti-Blackness around the world).

What about us? Do we identify with those who avoid being exposed? Systemically, we remain invested in collective narratives that valorize our past and gloss over (or completely ignore) our ugliness. But I also don’t like this kind of scrutiny for myself. There is vulnerability in being fully seen. We risk being defined by our blemishes. I trust few people with that picture, and only because I know they love me.

And there it is: love.

Again and again, God’s love calls us into its redeeming phos. Can we trust this love enough to draw the drapes of our souls?