This familiar chapter from John’s Gospel is the lectionary text for today, the 2nd Sunday in Lent. It’s a good text, a familiar text, so familiar that when I first wrote it I expected it to be relatively smooth sailing. But it wasn’t. It was a difficult sermon for me to write, partly because it’s usually used as an evangelistic text, to introduce non-believers to the Gospel of Christ. It’s a terrific introductory text. But what does it have to say to those of us who are already Christian?
The idea of needing to be born again isn’t new to us. And John 3:16 is probably one of the best known and most repeated verses in contemporary Christianity. I’ll bet most of us know it by heart. Try saying it with me: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” See? We know this piece.
I remember meditating on the passage, worrying at it, picking apart the Greek, reading the commentaries, and the more I wrestled with the text the more questions I had.
Why did Nicodemus come to see Jesus?
Why did Jesus answer the way he did? It wasn’t what Nicodemus asked.
Why should Nicodemus have known what Jesus meant by “born again?” Isn’t that a NT idea?
What does Jesus really mean by “eternal life?” Is it the same thing as “the Kingdom of God?”
And what I came up with was a sort of extended metaphor, a picture that draws all the different pieces of this passage together, at least for me, and helps me to make sense of how Jesus’ words really do answer Nicodemus’ real question, and really do apply to everyone’s life, whether at the beginning of a relationship with Jesus, or in the middle, or at the end. So I’m going to ask you to use your imaginations a little.
Imagine, if you will, that you’re all sitting in a darkened movie theater. You’ve been there as long as you can remember, and what you see on the screen is all there is in your life. The stories flow by, and you weep, and laugh, love or hate the characters, feel anger and hope and triumph and despair, and time goes by. Suddenly, one of the characters in the movie turns to the audience and says, “How are you going to get home? And what are you going to do when you get there?” The first time he does it, people shift in their seats and look uneasily at one another, wondering what he means. Pretty soon, the same character turns back to the audience and says, “Well, have you thought about what I said? Are you ready for real life?” This time, some people get really mad, and start throwing things at the screen. But some people start nodding, thinking to themselves, “I’ve always wondered about that. Maybe this isn’t all there is to life after all.” And the next time the character appears, he steps right out into the audience and asks everyone who’s interested in real life to meet him at the back of the theater and he’ll show them how to get home. Once again, some shout angrily at the character and start figuring out how to keep him from messing up their story. But some people get up, and start moving toward the exit. And a few in the middle sit still, wondering what to do, wondering who’s right, scared either to go or to stay.
Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a member of the Jewish ruling council. He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the miraculous signs you are doing if God were not with him.” [v.1, 2].
Nicodemus is one of the people in the middle; he didn’t know whether to yell at the intruder or follow him. He could tell from what Jesus was doing that he knew something ordinary people didn’t know. Jesus had some kind of connection - or insight - or something - into the story of God’s people. But what Jesus was saying didn’t fit with what Nicodemus thought he knew about God, about reality. So he wanted to check out Jesus’ credentials before he acted. Furthermore, Nicodemus had a position to protect. If it turned out that Jesus didn’t know what he was talking about, Nicodemus wanted to keep his rear covered so that he wouldn’t lose his protected, privileged status. He wanted a “reserved” sign left on his comfortable, front row center seat. So he starts by asking Jesus to confirm his identity.
But Jesus knew that Nicodemus didn’t really have a problem with his credentials. Jesus knew that Nicodemus’ problem was with his message. Nicodemus had committed his life to the images on the screen. If Jesus had said something like, “OK, all you true believers, come up and join me on the silver screen, and we’ll all ride off into the sunset together,” Nicodemus wouldn’t have hesitated. He knew that the Messiah was due; he undoubtedly believed in the Messiah and prayed with the best of them for liberation from Rome. And he would also expect that as a member in good standing of the religious establishment he would get a front row seat for that event, too. He’d been waiting on line for years, just to be one of the first through the doors. He was ready for the prize. The problem was that Nicodemus believed that the Messiah was behind door number 1. It had never occurred to Nicodemus that there was another door, a door to a completely new world. It had never occurred to Nicodemus that there was any reality more important than Jerusalem and the Temple.
And that false belief is the core problem that Jesus addressed. Nicodemus could not see beyond his own limited understanding of reality. “In reply Jesus declared, “I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again.” [v. 3]
In the Greek, the word v??ev, which is translated “again,” can also be translated “from above.” And the word ?evv??e?v, translated “born,” also means “begotten.” Jesus is saying, quite clearly, “Your life has to be restarted from above.” But Nicodemus doesn’t choose to take it that way. Notice that he doesn’t ask what Jesus means by “the kingdom of God.” Instead, Nicodemus challenges Jesus over a technicality. But, as usual, Jesus doesn’t let himself be deflected, saying again, “. . . I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit.” [v. 5]
Let’s go back to our metaphor of the darkened movie theater. There is a whole group of people in there who are living in an illusion, firmly convinced that what they are experiencing is ultimate reality. The religious establishment, particularly, is so convinced that their reality is the same as God’s reality that most of them can’t recognize the truth when they hear it. Jesus is telling them that "there is another kind of reality, more important, more long-lasting, more real, that is, God’s reality, that you have to completely change where you’re sitting in order to see.” But Nicodemus isn’t even asking about what this other reality is. He’s complaining about having to leave his seat. He’s comfortable where he is. And besides, what Jesus is asking is impossible anyway. So Jesus says again, “If you can’t even see God’s reality without getting a new life, you certainly can’t participate in it.” And then he refers Nicodemus back to some very basic OT teachings. Water and Spirit refer very specifically to cleansing and renewal. The prophet Ezekiel said,
I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. [Ezek 36:25-27]
Even with this in his background, Nicodemus still says to Jesus, “I don’t understand.” No wonder Jesus says to him, “You are Israel’s teacher, and do you not understand these things?” [v.10]
You see, Nicodemus was supposed to know. Jesus didn’t expect him to be able to see or understand the different reality of the Kingdom of God, since the gift of the Holy Spirit had not yet taken place, but he did have reason to expect Nicodemus and the other religious experts to be ready for an invitation to new life. In fact, Nicodemus was one of the few leaders even to contemplate taking Jesus up on the invitation. Most of them preferred to keep to the safe, shallow waters of their traditions and regulations than to step out into an adventure with the living God.
But what does this have to do with us? As Christians, we know that the life we live in the body, while unquestionably a gift from God, is not the same thing as the gift of eternal life. We know that it is through the water of baptism and the gift of the spirit that we know Christ. But how does this passage, and Nicodemus’ dilemma, apply to us? Do we have to have an adult conversion experience to be “born-again?”
Let me take you back to that movie theater. Have you ever known anyone who was really into soap operas, or maybe had one particular favorite they’d been following for years? They talk about the characters as if they were neighbors or friends, real people with real problems and dramas. Or take a teenager with video games. Their characters, quests and adventures can take over their minds. Even though these people know in their heads that real life isn’t the same as what happens on the screen, the story and the characters hit ‘em right here, in their feelings, just as if it were really happening to them. Incidentally, that’s one of the reasons it’s so important to be careful about what kids put in their heads. It takes maturity and self-awareness to put fiction into the proper perspective.
And that’s the issue. Ordinary life is connected to eternal life in much the same way that movies are connected to ordinary life. It takes maturity to keep the two worlds in the right perspective. Life is a great and good gift, full of comedy and tragedy, of love and conflict and birth and death - but if we aren’t rightly connected with eternity - if we aren’t fully grounded in God’s ultimate reality - it can overwhelm us. And the way to keep from being overcome, whether by our own weaknesses and failures or by adverse circumstances, is to look to Jesus Christ.
Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life. [v. 14-15]
This verse does not refer only to the initial experience of salvation but to our daily experience of the Kingdom of God. Do you remember where the reference to Moses and the snake comes from? It’s in the book of Numbers, chapter 21. During the one of the many times in their journey through the wilderness that the Israelites grumbled against God, the Lord sent poisonous snakes among them; when they repented, Moses prayed for them. Then “the LORD said to Moses, ‘Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.’” [Num 21:8]
So Moses did, and whoever looked up, lived.
In just the same way, looking up to Jesus protects us from the everyday bites and stings which can poison our spirits and rob us of the joy of our salvation. We are given eternal life at our baptism, and every time we turn to God we get a restart from above. Looking to Jesus assures us that the Kingdom of God, which is ours through the Holy Spirit, is more real, more lasting, more reliable than whatever it is we are going through now, no matter how tempting or how painful. We are not freed, yet, to go live altogether in eternity, but we can live freely, today, in the light of eternity.
Why did God give Moses the means to save his people? They didn’t deserve it. Why did God send Jesus to save his people? We don’t deserve it. We know the answer, of course - because God loves the world. But why on earth does Jesus bring it up at this point in his discussion with Nicodemus?
Because a lot of people don’t answer the call of Christ because they are afraid of God. Some know they don’t deserve God’s love, and are afraid that if they come into his presence they will be punished. Some don’t want to give up things they know they shouldn’t be doing, and think God will take all the fun out of life. Others are simply afraid of the unknown. Even those of us who have tasted the goodness of God’s grace are often afraid to venture further into the relationship, for fear we might be changed in ways we are not ready for. But God is a God of love, and the message Jesus brings is one of love and of life. There is nothing to fear.
For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. [v. 16-17]
There is nothing to fear. All those who look to Christ are lifted up. When you look up to Christ, you will see a face that loves and welcomes, not one that rebukes or rejects. There is nothing to fear. All those who look to Christ live. The more deeply and constantly we focus on Christ, the more deeply and joyfully we live. There is nothing to fear. For all those who look to Christ live with Him, both now and forever.
