09/27/2025
LIGHT AND DARKNESS: KNOWING, OBEYING, AND THE PERIL OF REFUSAL (Word Count: 654)
Part 3 of 4 — “Nicodemus Chooses the Light”
Synopsis: At the cross, Nicodemus stepped out of the shadows. Bearing wealth, risk, and reputation, he chose the light — a costly act of public allegiance to Christ.
A friend cautioned me that I may have judged Nicodemus too harshly. After all, he did take a risk at the cross, and stepping out of the shadows was no small thing. I have reconsidered my earlier “legalistic” take, and in the spirit of Harry Callahan’s line in Magnum Force — “A man has to know his limitations” — I admit mine. Reflection sharpens us all, especially when we are too quick to measure another man’s heart.
John’s Gospel tells us that after Jesus breathed His last, Joseph of Arimathea came to claim the body. And with him was Nicodemus, “who earlier had come to Jesus by night,” now bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about seventy-five pounds (John 19:39–42). The Synoptic Gospels are silent. Only John, inspired by the Spirit, preserves this detail.
It was not a small gesture. The spices were expensive, the quantity extravagant, an honor fit for kings. To associate openly with a condemned man risked status, wealth, even safety. Nicodemus was not hiding anymore. He stepped into the light of public witness, and his act was probably costly.
We can debate motive. Was it only respect? Was it quiet devotion? Was it an attempt to dignify death while avoiding the demands of discipleship? The Gospels do not answer. But the act itself mattered. A man who once came in darkness now walked onto Golgotha in the light of day. He put his hands to the work of burial. Obedience may begin in small steps, but it begins.
The Scriptures often remind us that faith is not always measured by clarity but by courage. Ruth left Moab with Naomi saying, “Your people shall be my people, and your God my God” (Ruth 1:16). The thief on the cross had only the breath of a confession, “Jesus, remember me” (Luke 23:42). Nicodemus’ spices, lavish and heavy, may stand as his own confession. However imperfect, it pointed him toward the Light.
Oswald Chambers once wrote, “The proof that I am in vital contact with Jesus is that I can face the reality of life as it is.” Nicodemus faced that reality at last. He touched the lifeless body of the Son of God. He saw blood and bruises, thorn and nail. And in that moment he chose to be identified with Christ. Whatever confusion had marked his earlier questions, whatever caution had guided his defense of procedure, this was a step into daylight.
Providence weaves even ambiguous deeds into God’s plan. The Sanhedrin pressed for the tomb to be sealed and guarded, fearful that disciples might steal the body. In truth, the seal and the soldiers only strengthened the testimony of the resurrection. Nicodemus’ spices, Joseph’s tomb, the guard — each detail intended to quash hope only made the empty tomb more undeniable. What men meant for denial, God used for proof.
So was Nicodemus faithful or fearful? Courageous or cautious? The text leaves much unsaid. But one thing is clear: the man who once crept by night stepped into the light. He chose Christ, and in that act he declared his allegiance.
Respect is not the same as discipleship, but it can be the first step. Nicodemus made his choice. He chose the light by coming out of the shadows. And that choice still challenges us: when the cross demands a decision, will we hide, or will we step into the light?
Commentary note: Later traditions — from apocryphal texts like the Gospel of Nicodemus to the veneration of Nicodemus as a saint — sought to fill in the silence. But John’s Gospel, inspired by God, gives us enough. Nicodemus stepped into the light at the cross, and that is the witness that still speaks.
