Lent 2a
Christ and Nicodemus by James Tissot, ca. 1886-1894
by the Rev. Iva Staats
John 3:1-17
There was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, 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.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “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.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “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.”
We bear witness time and again in scripture, example after example of sudden and abrupt conversions, epiphanies that do not leave any element of revelation or revealing to the imagination.
These conversions are so sudden and intense they often leave the converted physically altered in some manner after their encounter with God. Moses’ face shone as he descended the mountain with the stone tablets. Jacob walked forever with a limp after he wrestled with God. And Saul is temporarily blinded when he is struck down on the road to Damascus as he becomes Paul, converted from oppressor to follower of Christ. Certainly, too, there are innumerable examples of the alleviation of physical symptoms and conversion which abound in scripture: lepers and lame, blind, paralyzed, possessed and hemorrhagic; when they are relieved of their afflictions the same is often true of their confusion and misdirection. And gracious, who could forget Jonah? What in the world did he smell like after he spent three days inside a whale? I can’t help but think that tunic just had to go into the trash after he completes God’s work in Nineveh and even then, he probably couldn’t shake that smell for years!
And then...there’s Nicodemus. Do we have any idea where he stands at the end of his encounter with Jesus? Does he ever understand being born of water and the Spirit? Does he ever get it? We all, including Nicodemus, seem to be left without a definitive answer about the trajectory of his life after this encounter with the living God. Was Nicodemus changed? Converted? We may even feel anxious on Nicodemus’ behalf about our lack of answers. It seems that the text leaves us hanging, and that perhaps Jesus is even a bit to blame. Couldn’t he have spoken less enigmatically to Nicodemus? Perhaps, but maybe Jesus met Nicodemus with exactly what Nicodemus needed and was capable of absorbing at the time. Perhaps the gift of Jesus is in the wondering, both for Nicodemus and for us—sometimes learning to sit in the wilderness instead of demanding answers is the gift. The unknowing may just be the irresistibility. And, maybe we should take a closer look at the story, including a couple spoiler alerts, before we make assumptions about its eventual outcome—for which I do have a theory, but more on that in a minute.
Nicodemus is, at best, tentative and perhaps even skeptical. He comes to Jesus in the under the thick cloak of a dark night. By day, Nicodemus’ loyalties were as a devoted and respectable member of the religious establishment. Ironically, Nicodemus outwardly comes to reassure Jesus that he recognizes in him the gifts of God’s presence because of the visible signs that he has performed by the light of day;
“Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God.” And then, Jesus answers a question that if you read the text closely, Nicodemus never actually asks, it is as though Jesus anticipates the “But...” that Nicodemus never gets to. So, what is it that Jesus senses in this pious man that makes him turn the conversation a different direction? Perhaps Jesus senses Nicodemus’ desire to see God’s will, the manifestation of God’s Kingdom, and that not all things that are real are only perceived by the five senses. Jesus plunges Nicodemus further into darkness in his offering of being born in the water and the Spirit. Yet, in the darkness, Nicodemus remains courageous enough to ask. He remains courageous enough to say that he doesn’t understand. Brene Brown says that “courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.” He wasn’t quite sure he believed just yet, but he was courageous enough to let himself be seen by Jesus. Jesus gives him the space to not understand; he gives Nicodemus the grace and the gift of the wondering. He gives the gift of the unknowing and the wilderness.
Being born is a process. It is a process of moving from the dark into the light. It is a process of moving from the familiar and safe to the unknown. It is arduous and painful for both the mother and the one being born. It takes time. There are myriad changes that take place in a stepwise and predictable manner that result in the transformation of being born, in emerging into the light. I daresay, that it even requires some courageousness on the part of the unborn, the being born, not unlike our friend and brother Nicodemus. After his encounter with Jesus, deep down and ever so slightly, something begins to turn and shift within Nicodemus. Being born is plunging ourselves further into the mystery of the Incarnation with all of our questions and doubts, and taking a step toward emerging into the light. The path only begins at the font. Nicodemus’s rebirth happens over the course of a long journey, which began under the cover of darkness when he took a chance on Jesus. He was courageous enough to venture into the dark seeking the light, and to leave his initial encounter with Jesus without his questions answered. The encounter ends without a conclusion; the text does not tell us precisely his demeanor as he takes leave of Jesus that night either, but infers that Nicodemus wandered back off into that same darkness in which he arrived, ostensibly still confused, perhaps frustrated but almost certainly still shaking his head with a furrowed brow.
How do we know of the shift in Nicodemus? What evidence do we have of his conversion, his rebirth? Well, the gospel writer could’ve certainly left us in the dark about Nicodemus’ faith journey, but he doesn’t. Here’s your spoiler alert: after his encounter with Jesus, Nicodemus returns to his position within the Jewish religious establishment. By chapter seven of John, Nicodemus sits amidst the Pharisaic counsel that sends the Temple police to arrest Jesus for his blasphemy. When they return to the council without having done so, they are ridiculed by others while Nicodemus gives an ambivalent and lukewarm defense of Jesus by citing Jewish law: “Our law does not judge people without giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?” It seems there are glimmers, shards of light breaking into Nicodemus’ heart, yet he remains unwilling to condemn nor commit. Nicodemus then again fades off into the background of the text.
Where does his journey end? It ends at the foot of the cross and it is here that his birth from above by water and the Spirit is laid bare. Joseph of Arimathea appears by name in all four gospels to petition Pilate for the release of Jesus’ body to his care for burial. But, it is only in the gospel of John that he is accompanied by one Nicodemus who brings about one hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes to assist Joseph of Arimathea in this work. The gospel writer even takes care to point toward Nicodemus’ inauspicious beginnings, pointing out even at that juncture that Nicodemus “had first come to Jesus by night.” It seems that the gospel writer thinks Nicodemus’ gradual and unfolding journey toward the cross, toward the light, and his courage to start by asking questions in the dark is pertinent to our own journey during Lent.
Perhaps we would do well to strive to be a bit more like Nicodemus instead of internally clucking our tongues at his perceived lack of understanding. Perhaps he is not the emblematic representation small mindedness and narrow thinking. Perhaps he reminds us that the journey toward being born of water and the Spirit only begins at the font and in our courage to keep asking questions in the dark.
Amen.
