No one in all creation was found who could open the seals. The singing stops as John weeps loudly, seeing that Creation is separated from its Creator. No one is worthy to bridge that gap. And it appears that the will of God toward creation will never be known, that it will remain a mystery forever.
Every once in a while, you manage to see places that are all dried out. Places where the water doesn’t reach, places where nothing seems to grow, where dust, and death, and decay still seem to win out. Driving around this time of year, you have to really look for them, but they’re there. Along fences, or tucked in the back corners of a field. Places where the water just never quite seems to get, or places that have been worn down and packed hard by long use. Or in the old buildings, once so full of life and work, now empty, leaning, and lifeless.
In darkness, Nicodemus has come, seeking out Christ, the Light of the World, thinking that he has grasped the light, that he knows from where it came, and wanting to make sure that they’re both going in the same direction. But as he came in out of the darkness, into the presence of the Light, he was left disoriented and confused, struggling to make sense out of what is there in front of him.