"Close Encounters of the Christ Kind: Nicodemus"
Lent 2A 3-16-14
Genesis 12:1-4; John 3:1-21
Close Encounters of the Christ Kind: Nicodemus
He comes to the savior like a thief in the night, like a fugitive running, looking over his shoulder for fear that someone will see him and know. He comes because he is compelled to come, because he recognizes something about this wandering Aramean that is different, that is from God. And yet, despite the magnetic pull that he feels toward Christ, Nicodemus comes cautiously. He comes to Jesus with the same hesitant, mincing approach that he uses with everything in his life. After all, it’s a major risk he’s taking here - he’s a leader in the Jewish community. Everything he does is a direct reflection on the rest of the Pharisees, so much so that even as he comes to Jesus, he doesn’t even know how to speak for himself.
He calls Jesus Rabbi - he shows this moonlit Lord a great respect and recognizes the man’s authority as a teacher. “Rabbi,” he begins, “We know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” The words come as compliment from the mouth of one esteemed leader to another. Nicodemus knows how to win friends and influence people. But whatever it was that Nicodemus has planned this night, whatever conversation or questions that might have been asked, Jesus changes it all in the blink of an eye.
Jesus isn’t one for small-talk. He doesn’t follow Nicodemus’ train of conversation. He doesn’t even acknowledge the complement that Nicodemus just paid him. Here is Nicodemus, coming to Jesus, calling him a man from God - and Jesus waves it away as if Nicodemus made a comment about the weather. Instead, the Rabbi Nicodemus seeks out goes right into his lesson: “No one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above.”
Nicodemus blinks. He scratches at his beard for a moment. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to speak… but then he closes it again. For just one brief moment - he’s speechless. His eyes lose their focus, even as Jesus’ own eyes gaze with fierce intensity, as if this sidewalk prophet can see into Nicodemus’ very soul. No one can see the Kingdom without being born from above. Is it a riddle of some kind? Nicodemus wonders for a moment: does Jesus think I don’t know my own scriptures? Is he challenging my complement?
He opens his mouth again, now ready to speak up for himself - and then he stops again. And he thinks to himself: what if Jesus isn’t challenging him to a scripture contest? What if Jesus expects Nicodemus to understand? It’s not like what Jesus said didn’t make sense. Nicodemus could look back and count the number of times he’d said the same thing more or less to the people who had come to him, ready to convert and to become part of the people of Israel - he’d given each one of them that same encouragement as they were welcomed into the covenant community: that as they became part of that Jewish community, the sins they had committed in the past, the wrongs they had done, the very person they had been before was wiped entirely away - they were considered by God to be a new person - even more, a part of God’s chosen people.
So, then, Nicodemus wonders: why does Jesus tell this to me? What’s he getting at? He starts to doubt himself - could it be that he’s misunderstood everything all along? That there’s still something he’s missed in the law and the tradition of Moses that he’s held so dear all of his life? What if Jesus is offering him something more? What if there’s something more here to which Jesus is inviting him, and all he has to do is to take that first step?
Nicodemus is still cautious. He’s still unsure what Jesus is getting at. So he stays in the security of his darkness. He asks the unimportant question, leaving the bigger matters hanging in the sky with the rest of the stars and planets: “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”
And Jesus continues to look at Nicodemus. He smiles, takes a breath, and with the patience of a saint (actually, the patience of a savior), he continues: “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.”
And there it is… Jesus lays his cards down on the table and there’s no more questioning for Nicodemus. Of course Jesus wasn’t talking about being literally born a second time - and Nicodemus knows this. Of course you can’t be pushed out of a womb again, take that first breath in a blinding world of light, and be swept up in the embrace of a loving parent - it’s physically impossible! And Nicodemus knows this, too. He knows that Jesus doesn’t mean this, but Jesus explains it anyway. And now Nicodemus understands it - he understands that Jesus’ magnetic pull doesn’t come from what he does, but who he is. And he understands that Jesus is inviting him to this same reality.
Suddenly, Nicodemus is faced with the entire story of his people, laid out right at his feet - he understands the flutter in the stomach that Abram felt as he faced leaving his country, his lands, his kindred and his father behind to follow God to a new country and a glorious promise. He understands the awe and fear that Moses felt as the burning bush called him to lead a people to freedom. He knows the fearful wonder of David as he is anointed as king of Israel, of Solomon as he sees the temple completed, and of Daniel as he stands before Nebuchadnezzar and proclaims the word of God to a captor king.
And he realizes that each one was called to make a leap of faith, to let go of everything they had geld onto before, and to trust in God. And in this one realization, he finds himself at the brink, being asked to make the very same choice - and he doesn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t know how to take that first step, flinching and squinting into the light. He doesn’t know how to give up the position of authority, the respect that he’s earned for himself through his own learning and actions. He understands the spiritual calling that he feels, but doesn’t want to acknowledge the leap of faith that it would require. And because he doesn’t know how… he gives Jesus his answer, asking one more question to the Lord: “How can these things be?”
Jesus’ answer is to give him yet one more invitation, one more chance, one more open hand to help him out of the darkness. How can these things be? Jesus answers: with love. Through God’s love, and God’s love alone, we are given the strength and the spirit to make that first step. Not through anything we might bring to the table, but through God in the power of the Spirit.
And so Nicodemus finds himself standing before the Lord. He finds himself faced with that choice. And he can’t bring himself to make the kind of leap that the messiah asks of him. So he walks away, back into the darkness, his shoulders heavy, burdened with the knowledge that he wasn’t ready. And as he goes away, he hears Jesus’ words continue to echo in his head: “And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil.”
It won’t be till Jesus’ body is being lowered from the cross that his words finally ring clear and true to Nicodemus - and he realizes what Jesus meant when he said that “the Son of Man must be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” And it’s as Nicodemus helps to prepare Jesus’ body for burial in the tomb that he finally comes to the Christ by the light of day.
Genesis 12:1-4; John 3:1-21
Close Encounters of the Christ Kind: Nicodemus
He comes to the savior like a thief in the night, like a fugitive running, looking over his shoulder for fear that someone will see him and know. He comes because he is compelled to come, because he recognizes something about this wandering Aramean that is different, that is from God. And yet, despite the magnetic pull that he feels toward Christ, Nicodemus comes cautiously. He comes to Jesus with the same hesitant, mincing approach that he uses with everything in his life. After all, it’s a major risk he’s taking here - he’s a leader in the Jewish community. Everything he does is a direct reflection on the rest of the Pharisees, so much so that even as he comes to Jesus, he doesn’t even know how to speak for himself.
He calls Jesus Rabbi - he shows this moonlit Lord a great respect and recognizes the man’s authority as a teacher. “Rabbi,” he begins, “We know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” The words come as compliment from the mouth of one esteemed leader to another. Nicodemus knows how to win friends and influence people. But whatever it was that Nicodemus has planned this night, whatever conversation or questions that might have been asked, Jesus changes it all in the blink of an eye.
Jesus isn’t one for small-talk. He doesn’t follow Nicodemus’ train of conversation. He doesn’t even acknowledge the complement that Nicodemus just paid him. Here is Nicodemus, coming to Jesus, calling him a man from God - and Jesus waves it away as if Nicodemus made a comment about the weather. Instead, the Rabbi Nicodemus seeks out goes right into his lesson: “No one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above.”
Nicodemus blinks. He scratches at his beard for a moment. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to speak… but then he closes it again. For just one brief moment - he’s speechless. His eyes lose their focus, even as Jesus’ own eyes gaze with fierce intensity, as if this sidewalk prophet can see into Nicodemus’ very soul. No one can see the Kingdom without being born from above. Is it a riddle of some kind? Nicodemus wonders for a moment: does Jesus think I don’t know my own scriptures? Is he challenging my complement?
He opens his mouth again, now ready to speak up for himself - and then he stops again. And he thinks to himself: what if Jesus isn’t challenging him to a scripture contest? What if Jesus expects Nicodemus to understand? It’s not like what Jesus said didn’t make sense. Nicodemus could look back and count the number of times he’d said the same thing more or less to the people who had come to him, ready to convert and to become part of the people of Israel - he’d given each one of them that same encouragement as they were welcomed into the covenant community: that as they became part of that Jewish community, the sins they had committed in the past, the wrongs they had done, the very person they had been before was wiped entirely away - they were considered by God to be a new person - even more, a part of God’s chosen people.
So, then, Nicodemus wonders: why does Jesus tell this to me? What’s he getting at? He starts to doubt himself - could it be that he’s misunderstood everything all along? That there’s still something he’s missed in the law and the tradition of Moses that he’s held so dear all of his life? What if Jesus is offering him something more? What if there’s something more here to which Jesus is inviting him, and all he has to do is to take that first step?
Nicodemus is still cautious. He’s still unsure what Jesus is getting at. So he stays in the security of his darkness. He asks the unimportant question, leaving the bigger matters hanging in the sky with the rest of the stars and planets: “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”
And Jesus continues to look at Nicodemus. He smiles, takes a breath, and with the patience of a saint (actually, the patience of a savior), he continues: “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.”
And there it is… Jesus lays his cards down on the table and there’s no more questioning for Nicodemus. Of course Jesus wasn’t talking about being literally born a second time - and Nicodemus knows this. Of course you can’t be pushed out of a womb again, take that first breath in a blinding world of light, and be swept up in the embrace of a loving parent - it’s physically impossible! And Nicodemus knows this, too. He knows that Jesus doesn’t mean this, but Jesus explains it anyway. And now Nicodemus understands it - he understands that Jesus’ magnetic pull doesn’t come from what he does, but who he is. And he understands that Jesus is inviting him to this same reality.
Suddenly, Nicodemus is faced with the entire story of his people, laid out right at his feet - he understands the flutter in the stomach that Abram felt as he faced leaving his country, his lands, his kindred and his father behind to follow God to a new country and a glorious promise. He understands the awe and fear that Moses felt as the burning bush called him to lead a people to freedom. He knows the fearful wonder of David as he is anointed as king of Israel, of Solomon as he sees the temple completed, and of Daniel as he stands before Nebuchadnezzar and proclaims the word of God to a captor king.
And he realizes that each one was called to make a leap of faith, to let go of everything they had geld onto before, and to trust in God. And in this one realization, he finds himself at the brink, being asked to make the very same choice - and he doesn’t know how to answer. He doesn’t know how to take that first step, flinching and squinting into the light. He doesn’t know how to give up the position of authority, the respect that he’s earned for himself through his own learning and actions. He understands the spiritual calling that he feels, but doesn’t want to acknowledge the leap of faith that it would require. And because he doesn’t know how… he gives Jesus his answer, asking one more question to the Lord: “How can these things be?”
Jesus’ answer is to give him yet one more invitation, one more chance, one more open hand to help him out of the darkness. How can these things be? Jesus answers: with love. Through God’s love, and God’s love alone, we are given the strength and the spirit to make that first step. Not through anything we might bring to the table, but through God in the power of the Spirit.
And so Nicodemus finds himself standing before the Lord. He finds himself faced with that choice. And he can’t bring himself to make the kind of leap that the messiah asks of him. So he walks away, back into the darkness, his shoulders heavy, burdened with the knowledge that he wasn’t ready. And as he goes away, he hears Jesus’ words continue to echo in his head: “And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil.”
It won’t be till Jesus’ body is being lowered from the cross that his words finally ring clear and true to Nicodemus - and he realizes what Jesus meant when he said that “the Son of Man must be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” And it’s as Nicodemus helps to prepare Jesus’ body for burial in the tomb that he finally comes to the Christ by the light of day.
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