Born Anew

Letting Go

This passage from John grounds us in reality, transforming the interaction into a tangible, lived experience—not a hypothetical concept, but a real, weighty moment. The mention of Nicodemus is no accident. By naming him, John gives depth to both the man and the conversation, elevating its significance. Nicodemus becomes our mirror—his struggles, our struggles; his questions, our questions. Like him, we are fragile minds reaching for something greater, grasping for Jesus, for the miraculous, for understanding. His presence invites us to step into his place, to see ourselves in his search, and to wrestle with the very same questions.

Nicodemus isn’t just speaking for himself—he’s a voice for an entire generation grappling with the same burning questions. Yet, he’s the one who dares to bring them to Jesus. The backdrop? Jesus has just burst onto the world stage in John 2, turning water into wine, cleansing the Temple, and shaking the status quo. His actions demand answers.

Who is Nicodemus? Who is Jesus? What connection do they share? Why does Nicodemus seek Jesus under the cover of night? And most importantly—what is the lasting impact of this encounter?

These questions don’t just belong to Nicodemus. They belong to us.

Nicodemus wasn’t just a wealthy ruler—he was a power player, deeply embedded in the political and religious elite of his time. As a member of the Sadducees or Pharisees, he wielded influence in both arenas, a man who saw himself—and was seen by others—as someone of significance. Power mattered to him, as it did to those around him. Yet, here’s the twist: Nicodemus represents more than just a historical figure. He embodies the world, both then and now. And Jesus? He came to turn that world upside down.

A Clash of Kingdoms

Nicodemus and Jesus couldn’t be more different. Nicodemus pursued power; Jesus sought hearts. Nicodemus was invested in the treasures of this world; Jesus fixed His eyes on treasures in Heaven. This wasn’t just a conversation—it was a collision. Two opposing forces, two ways of life, and only one could truly reign.

But something about Jesus—His words, His miracles—had shaken Nicodemus to his core. The man who once trusted in his status and knowledge now had questions he couldn’t answer. And he knew exactly where he had to go to find them.

Was Nicodemus coming in sincerity, seeking truth? Or was he looking for a way to undermine Jesus? Perhaps both. Either way, one thing is certain: a rich and powerful ruler, a man who had everything, found himself at the feet of the only One who could give him what he truly needed.

The Meeting in the Dark: More Than Just Secrecy

The most obvious detail in this encounter is that Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night—a detail often linked to secrecy, fear, or even symbolic representations of ignorance and spiritual blindness. But is that the whole picture? Not necessarily.

Nicodemus wasn’t afraid of Jesus. If anything, coming under the cover of night suggests something deeper: an uninterrupted, private conversation. In Jewish tradition, serious discussions with teachers often took place at night, away from the distractions of daily life. Nicodemus wasn’t just sneaking around—he was setting the stage for an honest, in-depth encounter with Jesus.

The Struggle of a Powerful Man

Nicodemus wasn’t just any man—he was educated, respected, and influential. And yet, he came with the same struggle we all face: how do we make sense of Jesus?

Is Jesus a threat? Is He simply misunderstood? What is His mission, and does it threaten the power Nicodemus holds over the people?

But here’s what’s striking—Nicodemus doesn’t start with a question. He begins with a statement: “We know.” This wasn’t just his personal realization; it was an unspoken admission from the religious elite. Many had seen the miracles. Many had heard Jesus teach. The evidence was undeniable, yet the questions remained.

A Silent Acknowledgment

Nicodemus, a man of power, publicly acknowledges Jesus as a Rabbi—a teacher of God. That alone is significant. Even more so, he admits that the miracles point to divine authority. This isn’t just one man’s curiosity; Nicodemus stands as a representative of many who were watching, wondering, and wrestling with the same questions.

Jesus had unsettled the establishment, and now, one of its leaders was at His feet, searching for answers. The question was: would Nicodemus accept them?

Nicodemus recognized that Jesus was unlike anyone else. He openly admitted, “No one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him” (John 3:2). This was more than just an observation—it was a reluctant confession from a man who had seen enough to know Jesus carried divine authority.

But Jesus didn’t respond with a simple acknowledgment. Instead, He cut straight to the core: “No one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” (John 3:3).

The Greek word “anōthen” carries layered meanings—it can mean again, anew, or from above. Nicodemus, thinking in earthly terms, took it literally: “How can someone be born when they are old? Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb!” (John 3:4). But Jesus wasn’t talking about physical birth—He was speaking of a spiritual transformation, a rebirth through the Holy Spirit.

Then Jesus clarified: “No one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit” (John 3:5).

The phrase “water and Spirit” has long been tied to baptism. For centuries, the church understood this as a reference to baptismal regeneration—a cleansing and renewal through water and the Holy Spirit. But in this passage, Jesus directly connects water and Spirit as essential to entering God’s kingdom.

Nicodemus came searching for answers, but Jesus gave him more than he bargained for—a call to radical transformation, not just understanding.

Baptism: A New Life, A New Focus

Baptism isn’t just a ritual—it’s a total renewal. It’s why the church has always called it a sacrament, a sacred mystery where we are forever changed. After baptism, our focus shifts. We are no longer centered on ourselves but on the crucified and resurrected Christ—who now dwells within us through the Holy Spirit.

This changes everything.

Our lives begin to mirror Jesus’. Every day, we are crucified as we pick up our cross and follow Him. Every day, we are resurrected into new life, filled with love and joy. Why? Because we have stepped into something far greater than ourselves—the divine perichoresis, the eternal dance of love within the Trinity.

Through baptism, we are immersed—baptized—into the life of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This isn’t just some future reality; this is what it means to have entered the kingdom of God right now (John 3:5). Wow.

But Nicodemus doesn’t get it. He responds with confusion: “How can this be?” (John 3:9).

A Love That Confronts a God-Hating World

Let’s be honest—Nicodemus’ confusion makes sense. We have the benefit of 2,000 years of church history, biblical studies, and the indwelling Holy Spirit to guide us. But in that moment, Nicodemus is hearing something radically new. He doesn’t ask about doctrine—he asks about experience:

"How does this actually happen? How do I experience this renewal in my life today?"

That’s the real question, isn’t it? Not just what but how?

Jesus answers in the most unexpected way: by pointing to His own crucifixion.

"Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him." (John 3:14-15)

The answer to Nicodemus’ question—and to ours—is the cross. The Son of Man will be lifted up, and those who look to Him in faith will be born anew. This is where renewal begins. This is how everything changes.

Jesus is referencing a story in the book of Numbers which Nicodemus would’ve been familiar with. There was a time when poisonous snakes were killing many of the Israelites. Remember, the Israelites were in the wilderness among dangerous creatures. To remedy this, Numbers 21:8-9 says, “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.’ So Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.”

Jesus is saying this is the first step to experiencing this renewal in your life, being born anew. The first step towards a total transformation. Jesus is comparing himself to the bronze snake. Jesus knew he would one day be lifted up on the cross for all to see. Anyone who looks to Christ on the cross, receives life.

The Love That Shatters Expectations

God’s love is so relentless, so extravagant, that He gave His one and only Son to endure the cross—not for those who already loved Him, but for a world that hated Him. Let that sink in. God loves this God-hating world and Jesus Christ died for it.

This love isn’t conditional. It’s not reserved for those who get it right or those who love Him back. Jesus came and died for absolutely everyone. No exceptions. No exclusions.

And here’s the twist: Jesus didn’t come because God saw us as His enemy. It’s the opposite. Jesus came because we saw God as our enemy.

God has never been against us. He has never hated His creation. His very essence is self-giving love, and everything He does flows from that. But humanity? We’re the ones who turned away. We made ourselves enemies of God—not in reality, but in our minds.

Paul says it clearly:

"Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation…” (Colossians 1:21-22)

Seeing with New Eyes

Being born anew isn’t just about salvation—it’s about seeing God as He truly is: Love.

Colossians doesn’t say we were actually God’s enemies. It says we thought we were. Our broken minds distorted reality, but Jesus came to set it straight. God’s love has always been reaching for us.

That same love calls us to a radical way of life. If we are Christlike, we will see no person as our enemy. Not one.

Why?

Because God never considered us His enemy—even when we hated Him, ignored Him, or misunderstood Him. If that’s how He loves, that’s how we’re called to love.

Every person we meet—no matter how lost, how broken, or how hostile—is someone to be loved, served, blessed, and prayed for. Because one day, they too may be drawn to Jesus. And when that happens, they won’t just be strangers—they’ll be family.