Nicodemus

John 3:1–21 NRSV

Now 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. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

This is a story and a teaching about a change of the heart. A new birth after our lives are well-lived. Change and transformation.

In some of my earliest days here at St. James, one member questioned or cautioned me about using the word transformation. Like…what does that even mean? I was surprised, because transformation has been a key in my religious vocabulary for many, many years. I remember being taught about how a caterpillar enters the cocoon and transforms into a butterfly. Back in Sunday school, that was a metaphor for how God transforms us — we start one way and emerge, through God’s grace, renewed and yet who we are always meant to be.

Transformation. That is what God does in us and in our world. Transforming, changing, adapting. These are all matters of the faith journey.

Again, I wondered at this cautionary statement — don’t use that word too much. Why not? Because we don’t believe it’s possible? Because it’s too vague? Do you know what you will become when God disrupts and reorients your life? I sure don’t, so vagueness doesn’t cut it as an excuse.

Transforming is a biblical concept, a word associated with renewal of the mind and heart. And it is inward, faith transformation that we are witnessing in Nicodemus.

I do not know that I’ve ever preached on Nicodemus.

Who is he?

Our text tells us he is a Pharisee, so we know he’s a member of the religious bureaucracy of the Jews. We also hear that he is a leader among this bureaucracy. Someone who knows what he’s talking about, knows what he’s doing.

His name, Nicodemus, intrigues me. Broken into two, the words nico and demus mean victory/triumph and “of the people”, respectfully. Nicodemus is victor of the people. Now, I’m sure his parents didn’t have it planned that he was going to meet the Messiah and have an important conversation with him. But interesting, isn’t it, that Nicodemus is sort of the everyman of the Jewish religious leadership. He’s the quintessential Pharisee.

That’s important, because we want to have it established that Nicodemus is, at the outset, perhaps a skeptic and not convinced. He’s a representation, perhaps, of the people who are questioning what this Jesus movement is all about. He’s curious about this transformation that Jesus seems to be offering, but needs more info. What does this all mean?

So Nicodemus comes to Jesus in the night, under the radar, to say “yes, you are the one we’ve expected, I want to know more.” Clearly he believes something about Jesus and wants to know more. And Jesus obliges Nicodemus — he explains how this transformation is going to work. How can we be born from above? What’s the language mean, pastor, say it plain! None of this transformation whatchamacallit, what do you mean?

I actually find folks like Nicodemus to be some of the most intriguing, interesting people to talk with. Nicodemus is thinking about what he’s hearing. He’s not taking it at face value. He’s an established leader in the synagogue, wise and educated and experienced. And he can’t just outwardly change that position overnight. But he’s curious…he wants to know more. He wonders at what he does not know. He wonders at what might live beyond him.

Nicodemus approaches the conversation as a literalist. “Come on Jesus, what’s this bit about being born from above…we all know this isn’t how birth works.” It’s the comment about transformation — Come on, don’t give me a squishy word, tell me what you mean.

I remember another occasion where a member here made a good point about squishy words. It was perhaps the first Annual Meeting of my time here at St. James, or maybe it was the Stewardship campaign, but I was using language about encouraging us all to “Lean in” more in the year to come. I suppose I drew that language from Sheryl Sandberg’s famous leadership book about resisting the urge to stay at a distance or avoid doing the real work. But to “lean in?” What does that even mean, one of you asked me.

And this gets to the heart of what I believe we need to learn from Nicodemus. Nicodemus doesn’t get Jesus, at least at the outset, but he knows he wants to learn more. So he comes at night, he comes to talk, he has questions to explore. Perhaps Nicodemus has an inkling that what Jesus is saying is true. Perhaps Nicodemus sees something in this movement.

This, of course, makes me think of so many ways transformation works itself out in our life together, in the life of the church.

Nicodemus is getting on in his years. He has established wisdom and credentials. He is an authority on these matters of waiting for the promised one of God, the Messiah. And, he has a sense, an inkling, a nudge in his heart that says this: “I don’t get it, but we need to follow this man.”

We should follow that.

so he can’t leave his position necessarily and that he’s like it made me think about that the work of new worship communities or even back when I was doing that emergent church stuff like what’s the new conversation that needs to be had and who will help champion that so that the church has a future and so like it’s maybe not it’s not like Jewish versus Christian in the story it’s like people of God who’s gonna help champion the next chapter for our people for our for this this perhaps universal movement people.

As a spiritual leader, Nicodemus cannot simply abandon his post. But we will see in his story that over time, first clandestinely and then quite publically, Nicodemus steps into a role of reinterpreting Judaism as it points to the Christ.

A learned person in the Scriptures would know the prophet’s voice which says, behold, I am preparing to do a new thing in you. He would wonder at the possibility that this is perhaps the new thing God is doing.

I’ve found myself thinking of my Grandfather, Harvey Strand, as I’ve been preparing this sermon. One of the most important things my Grandfather ever did for me was he asked me questions about my faith and what I sensed God was calling me to. My grandpa didn’t always get what I was doing well when I told him stories of my crazy antics as a college minister. He didn’t always understand when I talked about the “emerging church” or how I understood modern worship music. But he engaged his own curiousity and listened, learning and seeking the way God was at work in me.

And he was a man who sponsored and supported me through this. He encouraged me to grow and follow my calling, not because he necessarily understood what it would look like as my life took shape, not because I would somehow fit into an expected mold of a good Presbyterian Pastor, of which my Grandfather knew many in his life. No, he saw that God could use me and he wanted to encourage that, learn about it, support it.

I see Nicodemus doing something very similar here.

The Jesus movement will live beyond Nicodemus. And he could choose to hold with a really tight grip on the stable things — established order in the synagogue, best practices and business as usual and the status quo. He could have protected what he loved.

But instead, Nicodemus becomes a leader of transformation, himself being the first to experience it.

In his theological discourse with Jesus, Nicodemus is testing and wondering — could this be the new thing? Could this be the Messiah?

Later in life, Nicodemus is known for being a vocal support of Christ. He transforms from Pharisee to Christ-follower. And what I find incredibly important is that Nicodemus knows that this movement will live beyond him and he wants to support it.

This is what God is doing next.

Let’s bring this home to our world and context.

I wonder, what is the new thing God is doing in and amongst us?

Will we be curious about it?

Will we sponsor and support it?

Or will we grasp for the status quo, the way things are, the way things were?

Sadly, I think many of us are much more prone to wanting to protect what we have, keep safe our traditions and programs and perspectives. We like how things are. Or how things were.

And in some case, we actively oppose the transformation God is doing in and around us. We can’t forge ahead…actually, we need to backtrack.

I don’t care if God is doing a new thing — I like the old thing God did so I want to keep that going.

Sometimes we sense the stirring of God’s spirit, the promise of something new, and we get afraid. Will we belong in this new movement? Is the thing we’re transforming into good?

A few things for us to think of as I close:

What if Nicodemus is a representation of the ones who work within the system to transform it from it’s old ways, seeking renewal and new life for the religious systems of his people?

What if Nicodemus is like the government employee who works quietly to resist the onset of authoritarian or fascist leadership in our country?

What if Nicodemus is like the old wise ones among us who see that their time is fading, but that God is doing a new thing, and they seek to champion it?

I like to think of wise old Nicodemus, talking with some of the youngest converts to Christianity. “Oh, back in my day, we were pretty strict with our religious laws, there wasn’t much room for grace. But oh boy, the shift that occurred with Jesus. You should have seen it. I never imagined the kind of loving community we have now in this new church, but now it feels like the only thing we could ever be.”

Change happens. Transformation happens.

Will we be a part of it? Or will we resist it? Will we ask good questions to help strengthen the movement? Will we use our expertise to support the new thing God is doing?

Will we pass on the faith? Will we release our old ways and let God transform us into who we are meant to be, for now, for the future? Will we receive the love of God which is making all things new?