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Born AgainJune 07, 2009 Trinity Sunday Make no mistake about it; it’s a scandalous scene. [1] It takes place in the cover of night, for they needed the cover. Were they to be seen, caught, there would be all manner of implications neither was prepared to deal with, at least not yet. It’s a charged scene, fraught with meanings even they were not fully aware of, and yet they knew it was worth the risk. Make no mistake about it; it’s a scandalous scene. On the one hand you have Nicodemus, a leader of the synagogue, Pharisee, and a well-credentialed authority on Jewish law. On the other hand, you have Jesus, a radical young rabbi who comes not from one of the major centers of learning or power in the Jewish world; rather, he comes from the Palestinian ghetto of Nazareth, from where, it was said in his day, nothing good has ever come. This young, radical rabbi had made a name for himself, and his teachings were causing a stir not only in the countryside, but also in the most lofty centers of power and learning. You have to wonder what someone like Nicodemus was doing meeting up with someone like Jesus. They moved in very different circles. One represented the status quo, the establishment, while the other represented the aspirations of those at the margins of society, those the established order would rather forget. Both assumed they represented God. Each was a challenge to the other; each was intrigued by the other – maybe even envious of the other; each had much to lose by their association with the other. Thus they met in the dark of night. The wise and pious lawyer begins with flattery. “Rabbi, we know who you are. You are a teacher come from God. For no one can do the things that you do apart from the presence of God.” The young, radical rabbi interrupts, not willing to be seduced by niceties. Instead he gets to the heart of the matter, at least from his perspective. He tells Nicodemus, “I know why you’ve come. I know you want to understand what all the fuss is about. But here’s the heart of the matter: You cannot and will not see the kingdom of God unless you start all over. It’s almost as if you have to be born all over again. Yes, you must be born again.” [2] “How can this be?” asks the lawyer. “How can one enter their mother’s womb once more?” To us, that sounds like a silly question, not one to be asked by an accomplished religious and legal scholar. It seems Nicodemus is a bit rigid, perhaps a literalist. But before we ridicule or dismiss Nicodemus we have to take into account how radical, how dangerous a statement this really is. What Jesus is suggesting is that the world, as Nicodemus knew it, his life as it had thus far been lived needed to be radically reconsidered. He needed to start over. What if someone suggested the same to you? What if some young radical said to you that your way of thinking, your way of living, who you hang out with, who you respect and consider authoritative, who you vote for, who you give your money to, how you make that money, where you live, what you read, essentially who you are – that all of it is out of sync with God’s purposes and needs a completely new, fresh start – would you listen? I doubt it. You’d likely dismiss the young radical as naïve, idealistic, and not yet mature or wise enough to understand reality. You’d probably just walk away and think, “that guy is crazy. Just another radical giving religion a bad name.” That’s what I’d do. We make a mistake if we do not realize that this is what Jesus is asking of Nicodemus. We also make a mistake if we assume that in this scenario we represent Jesus, and the world is Nicodemus. Or if we imagine that Jesus is the Christian and Nicodemus is a Jew, for we know that Jesus lived and died a Jew. We also get it wrong if in our minds Jesus is the religious person and Nicodemus is the sinner. [3] The text suggests none of that. What the text does suggest, however, especially given that it comes at the beginning of John’s gospel, is that the message of Jesus is going to challenge and disturb even good, well-intentioned, God-loving people. What Jesus is going teach and to expect from his followers will be hard to stomach. Which brings us to a good place to set Nicodemus aside for the moment in order to consider ourselves. Nicodemus is, you might have guessed by now, a stand-in for all who come to Jesus for whatever reason. You have your reason(s). You too come to Jesus quietly, perhaps even secretly, bringing your own questions and curiosity, your own struggles, your own fear and anxiety, your own past. You too come to Jesus, whether it’s by your bedside, or while running in the park, or while sitting at your desk, or while talking to the friend who assumes you’re actually listening. Like Nicodemus, you may also begin your rendezvous with Jesus with a lot of flattery: I worship you, I love you, you’re so great and I’m not, you are most important in my life, etc. Imagine that moment however it takes place in your own life. As you do so, imagine Jesus interrupting you and your flattery and simply saying to you, “I know why you’ve come. We’ve been here before. I know what you’re going to ask for, I know what you’re going to confess, I know the excuses you’re going to make, I know how unique you think your situation is, I know you’re going to ask me to fix it. But here’s the heart of the matter: You cannot and will come into God’s fullness unless you start all over. It’s almost as if you have to be born all over again. Yes, you must be born again.” What would that mean for you? What you would need to let go of, and what would you need to embrace? What would you need to stop making excuses about, and what would you need to become proactive about? When you next meet Jesus in your secret place, in the cover of night, what would you need to mourn so that you may come into the fullness of God’s joy? You see, friends, this story of Nicodemus’ secret encounter with Jesus is a story that is repeated countless times each day. It’s not something that happened a long time ago; it is something that is happening right now – this very moment. And Jesus is lovingly saying to you and to me, “You must be born again. Something has to change. I will speak these words of truth to you, I will sustain you come what may, but the choice must be yours. Either you will resist, clinging on to the very thing you always ask me to change for you, or you will start over, this time seeing with the eyes of faith what God longs to give you.” This is how vicious cycles are broken, and how we are freed from the lies we tell ourselves. This is how we stop being the victim of our own choices and start living the life that we know is within us waiting to be lived. Some of us need more help than others, some of us don’t realize just how much help we need, but regardless of what your reality is, this is a message of liberation and of hope. If you need that today then you’ve come to the right place. Painful though it might be, as in childbirth itself, on the other side of pain is the promise of a new life. That is what Jesus was offering Nicodemus and that is what is offered to you and to me as well. In our first lesson we read of the majestic, mysterious vision of a young Isaiah. He was caught up in the worship of God, in the ecstasy that is God’s presence and it changed him. The experience was so powerful that he reports “The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.” Being in God’s glory Isaiah realized his own limitations, his own shortcomings and yet was restored and made whole. Isaiah was born again. Yet, almost as if to ensure that Isaiah not be given to too much flattery, God abruptly interrupts Isaiah’s elation, much like Jesus interrupted Nicodemus, and asks, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” The born again, young Isaiah finds courage beyond his years and responds, “Here I am, Lord. Send me.” The next time you have your secret rendezvous with Jesus imagine what it would be like not to have to take him the same baggage you’ve been taking him for years. Imagine instead being born again, free, done with all that has constrained you and limited you for too long, and instead you were courageous enough to whisper to him, “Here I am Lord. Send me.” That’s what it means to be born again. Friends, I want to be born again. I pray you do to. Why wait?! _____________ Previous sermon: Passing the Mantle • Next sermon: A Famine in the Land All past sermons |
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