The Night Cometh

Last night my roommates dropped me off, bike pump in hand, to rescue my poor flat-tired bike several blocks from our apartment. As they drove off, I noticed the silence and stillness associated with a college campus between semesters. It is not the empty silence of an abandoned home, but an expectant, pregnant silence preparing for the things to come.
I walked past the statue of Christ that sits with folded legs in a bed of flowers. His hands are open. His eyes stare upwards and to the right, as if they expect to see something.
Something about the atmosphere told me that if that statue of Christ were to come alive, turn his head toward me, and rise, I would not be surprised.

I fought the urge to climb into the flower bed and sit beside him. Instead, I sat next to my bike facing him and breathed in the expectant silence. I texted Google, hoping to finally learn the connection among the bronze statue, the phrase “The Night Cometh” posted above him, and John 9:4.
I sat there feeling slightly awkward, hoping one of the few passers-by would not ask me if I needed help with my bike. I gratefully received the few moments of still, quiet, expectation God had granted to me.

I pumped life back into my tires and rode home, where I finally looked up the verse. The King James Version reads, “I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.”
How strange that a verse about labor followed my encounter with stillness. Yet I feel like some of my most important “work” yesterday was to sit quietly at the feet of Christ in silent, hopeful expectation.



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2 responses to “The Night Cometh

  1. Anson J.

    If there was a “Like” button for this trio of 8/17 entries, I’d push it. I love your narrative style!

  2. Pingback: Reflections on the New Year | χορος χαριτος: A Danse of Grace

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