John 3: 1-17
I had a Nicodemus moment this week.
Let me try to explain.
I really do love the process of birthing a sermon. Reading and praying over the passage generates
seeds of ideas, which brew and stew and take shape and begin to grow as the
days go by. And stories come along which
connect themselves to the scripture text. And hopefully with a good dose of Holy Spirit
inspiration, when the time comes to sit down and start typing, a message will
come together, a proclamation of the word.
But some weeks are harder than others. And this week, as I
struggled to get my thoughts together, I realized that I was feeling a lot like
Nicodemus might have felt.
Nicodemus was a teacher, a leader of the Jews. He had been
watching what Jesus had been up to. And he was struggling to understand what
was going on with all the signs Jesus was doing. So Nicodemus came to Jesus
late one night, under cover of darkness.
He came to Jesus for some explanation, greater clarity, or knowledge.
Something that would help him explain to his people how God was at work here. Perhaps
he was trying to make some connection to the Law, to Torah, that would make
logical sense to him, so that he could then make logical sense of it all to
them.
But Jesus’ words of explanation to him were not logical at
all.
To see the kingdom of God, you must
be born from above. To enter the kingdom of God, you must be born of water and
Spirit. Spirit, not flesh.
And the Spirit blows in and blows out
and blows around, however it does it. There is no way to capture it, to
understand it, to plan for it.
This was me this week, reading the passage, looking for ways
to make sense of it to all of you. Searching for the logical way to connect the
dots, so that all of you would have the greatest possible chance at that “a ha!”
moment, the key learning, the takeaway.
And I’ve already found (from experience!) that when I get
into that place, as the days go on, and the urgency gets greater, I begin to
pick apart the pieces of the scripture, and the meanings, and I get frustrated
when it doesn’t tie up neatly in a bow. But that is usually the sign for me
that I have stopped listening for the Word of God, the living Word, which is
brought to life by the power of the Holy Spirit, and not by my own efforts. And that’s just like what Nicodemus was doing
this week.
In our passage this morning, the dialogue between Nicodemus
and Jesus goes basically like this:
Jesus offers new life. "
Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God
without being born from above."
Nicodemus resists.
"How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a
second time into the mother's womb and be born?"
Nicodemus blows right past the offer about the
kingdom of God, and gets fixated on the concept “born from above”. It’s the
same word as “born again”, or “born anew”. And Nicodemus takes it literally. How
can one be literally born again? That’s crazy, Jesus. I don’t get it.
Nicodemus resists.
Jesus offers new life:
Very truly, I tell you, no one
can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is
born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be
astonished that I said to you, 'You must be born from above.' The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear
the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So
it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."
Jesus clarifies what it
means to be born from above, to be born of the spirit. Being born of water is
not about baptism, but about the way we are born into the flesh – through the
birth canal, complete with water and labor and all that is part of the birthing
process. Being born of the Spirit is not like that. You do not know from where
it comes or where it goes. The spirit will do what the spirit will do. And that
is how you enter the kingdom of God.
Jesus – again – offers
new life.
Nicodemus resists – again.
"How can these things be?"
It’s not unlike the reaction of Sarah, wife of
Abraham, way past her childbearing years, and being told by God that she will
conceive. “You have got to be kidding me. That’s impossible!” Nicodemus says here, “how is this possible?”
Nicodemus resists.
And, once again, Jesus replies; Jesus offers new
life.
"Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these
things? "Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to
what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you
about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you
about heavenly things? No one
has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of
Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son
of Man be lifted up,
that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. "For God so
loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him
may not perish but may have eternal life."Indeed, God did not send the Son
into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved
through him.
Jesus offers new life – and has
the last word. Jesus offers his life as the new life. Jesus is lifted up to be born anew. He
is lifted up on the cross to be crucified….. and he is lifted up to be exalted
as the Savior of the world. God so loved the world that God came to earth to be lifted up
to be born anew so we could have new life, free of condemnation. New life, new
identity, as child of God. So we can step out of the dark of
doubt and fear, into the light of faith and trust, to speak of what we know and
bear witness to what we have seen.
Having
explained how I have been an example of Nicodemus this week, let me offer you
two examples of living out and expressing the new life Christ offers, a life
grounded in faith and trust: one a person, one a congregation.
This week marks one year since Jorge Mario Bergoglio was
elected pope, and took on the name Pope Francis, after Saint Francis of Assisi.
And it’s been quite a year. He has taken the world by storm – not just the
Catholic church, not just Christians, but the world, with his humble manner and
his straightforward focus on the poor and the marginalized. He has been on the
covers of magazines from Time to Rolling Stone.
But media attention is not what Pope Francis is after. Last
week Pope Francis was quoted as saying that he is not a “ superman”
and does not want to be a celebrity. He is just trying to talk and live like
Jesus…”
And as Shane Claiborne wrote this month for Sojourners’
magazine,
“He didn’t don the snazzy red shoes and fancy papal attire. He
chose a humble apartment rather than the posh papal palace. He washed the feet
of women in prison. He touched folks that others did not want to touch, like a
man with a disfigured face, making headline news around the world. He has put
the margins in the spotlight. He refused to condemn sexual minorities saying,
“Who am I to judge?” In response to the growing gap between the rich and poor,
where 85 people now own the same wealth as half the world (3.5 billion), Pope
Francis says: “How can it be that it is not a news item when an elderly
homeless person dies of exposure, but it is news when the stock market loses 2
points?” He has let kids steal the show, allowing one little boy to wander up
on stage and stand by him as he preached.
The most remarkable thing about the Pope is that what he is
doing should not be remarkable. He is simply doing what Popes and Christians
should do – care for the poor, critique inequity, interrupt injustice, surprise
the world with grace, include the excluded and challenge the entitled.”
Pope Francis is living his life in the way that God has
called him, and models how we are all to live our lives as followers of Christ.
He brings his faith and trust out into the light for all to see. He follows
where the Holy Spirit blows through the world. He doesn’t hide his faith and
trust in the darkness. He doesn’t wait
until he fully understands, and he doesn’t stick to what makes sense to the
world, but he trusts and he operates on faith.
Another example is a Lutheran congregation of about 200
people in Denver, Colorado, called the House for all Sinners and Saints. It
describes itself as a public church. By that they mean “a church that doesn’t
exist just to serve its members, but to be in relationship with a community.” And
so they go out to serve people who are not looking for church.
At Thanksgiving, they offer Operation Turkey Sandwich. Last
year they organized 1200 volunteers to cook, wrap up and deliver turkey sandwiches,
stuffing muffins and pumpkin cookies to hand out to people who have to work on
Thanksgiving day – anyone from bus drivers to police officers to hospital
aides, to the clerk at the adult bookstore, who asked skeptically, “Your church
brought me Thanksgiving lunch here?”
On Fat Tuesday, they go to the bars to hand out doughnuts to
the people there. They also provide stamped postcards, addressed to the man who
runs the Post Secret website – a place where people write in anonymously to
share their secrets – so those who wish can confess their transgressions before
the start of Lent.
They hold an annual blessing of the bicycles for area
cyclists, because outdoor sports are big in Denver, and urban cycling has many
perils.
In these ways, they minister to the public, to the community,
without counting the cost or calculating the return. They practice their faith
in public. That is not to say that they don’t also take worship seriously – in
fact, they practice the high liturgy of the Lutheran Church, in a very
participative way. In worship they are
equipped, and then they are sent out to love and serve the Lord by serving
others. Because they accept and believe that God so loves the world, they go
out to show that love, by the power of the Holy Spirit, whichever way the
Spirit leads.
Our congregation, and each one of us, is invited by Christ
Jesus into new life. Throughout this
Lenten season, let us reflect on the things that cause us to resist the
invitation, that keep us from fully accepting the love of God that is given to
us in the life, death and resurrection of Christ.
As we journey with Christ toward the cross, and celebrate the
empty tomb and the saving grace of the risen Lord, let us let go of those
things holding us back, in the darkness, and step boldly into the light,
seeking ways to share the love we have received with our community and
beyond.
We have been given, as a congregation, the opportunity to
worship and serve in a new way, to embrace our new life. Let’s welcome this chance to bring a new church into being,
to revel in the new life we have been offered, to use our resources, our
energy, imagination, intelligence and love for the work of the kingdom of God.
May it be so for each and every one of us, and for all of us together, the body
of Christ.
With appreciation to Shane Claiborne / Sojourners and Gail R. O'Day / New Birth as a New People: Spirituality and Community in the Fourth Gospel (Word & World Volume Viii, Number 1) for ideas / quote used in this sermon.
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