Did
you sleep well last night? I hope so…Tossing and turning as the
hours tick past can be a wretched experience.
I
wonder if that’s what brought Nicodemus to Jesus…Perhaps he had
been mulling over something he’d heard and just couldn’t sleep
till he’d cleared it up.
Jesus
had started a train of thought that had ended with a really burning
question…it must have been pretty overwhelming to actually get him
out of bed
If
you had, as the song puts it “Just one question” to put to God’s
Son, I wonder what you’d choose…what you most long to hear
answered….
Think
on that.
Maybe
even try asking him, sometime?
Meanwhile,
though, back to Nicodemus.
Perhaps
he's afraid of what his friends and colleagues will say if he's seen
approaching this controversial itinerant preacher. Hence his
nocturnal ramblings. He’s chosen the cover of darkness, because
actually he’s scared.
Scared
of being caught showing an unhealthy interest in Jesus.
Scared
that in engaging with him, he might be identified as one of the
lunatic fringe.
After
all, Nicodemus is a respected figure, part of the establishment with
a reputation to protect, and a lot to lose. He’s not in the same
position as that ragtag handful of Galilean boatmen who could just
drop everything and go where Jesus lead. He has real status – and
status and Christian discipleship are always uneasy companions.
It
makes sense for Nicodemus to be anxious, even fearful.
Fearful
as some of our brothers and sisters in the world church still are,
fearful that faith might cost them their livelihoods, even their
lives.
That’s
not a kind of fear we are familiar with, enjoying the freedoms we do.
We’ve
come through these doors in broad daylight – and though the world
may seem to walk by our west screens we don’t feel the need to put
up blackout curtains, lest we be seen at worship.
The
worst we face, on the whole, is a kind of incredulity – that as
sensible people we would choose to spend our time in chilly buildings
talking to an imaginary friend.
That
may be frustrating, and should make us wonder what we might do to
share our faith in ways that actually speak of God’s living reality
– but it doesn’t put us in fear of our lives.
I
wonder whether, in comparable circumstances, you and I would have
visited Jesus by night – indeed whether we’d have actually
managed to leave home at all.
Are
we engaged enough to leave our beds to meet with Jesus?
Would
we risk our reputations for his sake?
Would
we mind being identified as disciples, if there were any inherent
risk?
Again,
if you’re not sure how you’d answer that, it might be worth
reflecting on.
Perhaps
you could talk God, or to one of his friends whom you trust…
Because
really, there doesn’t seem to be much point in turning up week by
week, if this whole faith thing hasn’t yet taken you by storm, nor
the wind of the Spirit swept you off your feet, planting you
somewhere you neither chose nor expected…
That
passion that forced Nicodemus from the safety of his home by night is
a gift of the Spirit that transforms the way of faith from duty to
joy – and it’s something to ask for, and to celebrate.
I
think that’s where Jesus was going as the conversation unfolded.
Here’s Nicodemus, immured in his current way of life…believing
that he’s too old for a fresh start…. But still he comes, armed
with his deductions, in search of some answers..
You
see, he thinks
he has worked it all out.
Jesus
is undoubtedly a Rabbi sent specially by God.
That’s
the only explanation for the signs and wonders that so many have
witnessed.
In
grasping that, Nicodemus is already half way there but recognising a
heaven-sent teacher is not in itself enough to propel a man from his
bed in the small hours. Something more is nagging away… but he
doesn't know what,- he is just aware of that vague feeling of
disquiet which is often a sign that God is trying to get through to
us, if only we will stand still and listen. A restless searching is
another of those gifts of faith to be cherished and engaged with
Nicodemus,
of course, has come
to listen, to be
taught, but he must have found Jesus's response at best discouraging,
- positively baffling i. Instead of being congratulated on his
perception, - he does recognise the presence of God when he sees it,-
he is told that he can't even SEE
the kingdom, still less enter it.
He’s
still way off course.
He
needs to be born again.
"Ah
yes, born again" we say, nodding sagely, for this has become a
Christian cliche over the centuries, carrying with it all sorts of
associations, helpful and otherwise.
It
is hard to imagine how very strange the phrase sounded to Nicodemus –
who is much too adult to consider a new start.
We’re
confident that we know much
better than him, with his literal vision of re-entering the womb
Actually,
though, his confusion has much to say to us, if we really think about
a new-born baby, something I’m very keen on doing at the moment, as
the granny of Eleanor Grace, now three whole weeks old. She arrived,
as do we all, naked, totally helpless, dependent upon others for
food, warmth, love, everything she needs to help her live and thrive.
In
the same way, Nicodemus and all who seek the kingdom must become
totally vulnerable and helpless before God, accepting that without
him we can do nothing, that it’s never about pleasing him with our
best efforts, proving our faith with acts of loving service, however
much we might want to earn God’s love.
But
of course, we’d rather be loved and admired for what we can
do…specially in this age of achievement, when we want to believe
that we have conquered the world and everything in it. Accepting
that, in matters of eternal significance, we are ultimately helpless
without God isn’t easy.
It
wasn’t easy for the cultured, educated Nicodemus either.
Total
vulnerability never is.
We
want to believe that we understand the world and have mastered its
way, unlike a newborn baby who comes without intellectual or
emotional baggage, with literally no pre-conceptions.
Nothing
is impossible, impractical, foolish, beneath that hypnotic newborn
gaze.
In
contrast, when we find ourselves challenged by the Gospel, too often
our response is limited by our ideas of what is actually sensible, or
socially acceptable. It takes a lot of courage to dump all that we
have learned about how the world works, even when we are becoming
aware of the shortcomings of the system…but if we are starting from
scratch, we can be more genuinely open to the radical implications of
the gospel message.
Being
born again might look a bit like that
Finally,
a baby and its parents in those very first newborn days can become
all the world to each other, giving and receiving absolute
unconditional love. There are no distractions for the baby: she knows
no-one else to love, and has no idea that her parents, brimming with
good intentions, will ever let her down. Eleanor is loved by all her
family simply because she is herself. And that, wonderfully, is the
way God feels about us.
He
can’t HELP loving us. Amazing! Incredible, but true.
That
gift of love is offered to us, today and always, by the God Nicodemus
yearned for day and night.
The
God we meet in Word and Sacrament.
the
God who loved the world – not just the good, not just the Jews, not
even just the Christians - the God who loved the WORLD so much that
he sent his only Son…
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