John 3:1-17
Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, who came to Jesus, by night, and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God because no one can do the 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, “How can one be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”
Jesus said to him, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and the spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh. 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 anyone 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? We speak about what we know and we testify to what we have seen, yet you do not receive our testimony. If I tell 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, so that everyone who believes in him might have eternal life.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that everyone who believes in him may not perish, but might 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.”
I had some remarkably strange and difficult conversations last week with three very different people I’d never met before. One was with a man who had seen me around town and who knows what I do here at Cross of Grace. He wanted to know if I’d be willing to talk with a friend of his who was struggling with a son, of his, who was struggling, too, with suicidal thoughts – attempts, even – and a very serious experience of abuse, to boot.
I had another series of conversations with a different young man altogether – a high school kid –who’s been struggling with some drug use, problems at home and school, some severe anxiety and, to top it off, harbors some serious fear about whether or not God could love or forgive him for some of the things he’d said and done – when he was in the third grade!
And I had a short, sweet little chat with the woman who cut my hair – about how she wouldn’t be doing much for the holiday weekend – partly because her sister’s birthday is today, but her sister died last year. So my barber and her family would be trying to find a way to do both things – the holiday and the grieving – at the same time.
Of course, I wanted for these people I didn’t know to know about God’s love and grace and mercy in their lives. I wanted to describe for them something about how deep and wide that love is meant to be felt by them. I wanted to find words that would overwhelm them with hope and the power of that divine kind of love so that they could feel it in a way that was as life-affirming, as life-giving, as life-changing – as the love of God is intended to be.
So, I outlined for them the intricacies and particulars – the theological trappings – of the doctrine of the Trinity, which we are invited to worship around and to celebrate this morning.
No, I didn’t do anything of the kind, because that would be ridiculous.
See, the irony of this Sunday is as funny to me as it is frustrating. Holy Trinity Sunday I mean, where we are charged with celebrating church doctrine, is always a strange proposition … this notion that God can be described and defined and defended and dumbed-down, if you ask me, into three things … three persons … three images … three identities – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in the context of worship.
As if we could do that. As if that were enough. As if there’s a way to say it all, here, now.
Because if we were to pretend to say it all, it wouldn’t be enough. Because not everyone speaks the same language – literally or figuratively or spiritually, either. Not everyone holds the same regard for “Father,” or for “Son,” or understands what in the world a “Holy Spirit” is, or a “Holy Ghost” for that matter. Right?
It’s funny to me because it seems strange to wrap worship up with such academic musings.
It’s frustrating to me because there are people out there in the world – and some listening to me now, I imagine – who have had enough with words. Enough with doctrine and theological trappings. Enough defending and dumbing-down what is too big and more beautiful and embarrassingly limited by our simplest terms and most convenient definitions.
There’s a time and a place for everything, don’t get me wrong. But Jesus didn’t spend a lot of time with plying definitions or playing defense. Maybe he’s doing some of that this morning with Nicodemus, but we also heard him say that he simply spoke about what he knew. That he testified to what he had seen. And it seems to me, Jesus was at his best – most fully, most faithfully, and most loving – when he was doing the work of God – not just defining or describing or defending it.
Jesus created experiences. He told stories. He touched and loved, he held hands and welcomed. He fed and watered, he wined and dined. He walked with people, he worked alongside them, he washed their feet and let them wash his. He prayed and sang and laughed and wept, too.
Which is why this conversation with Nicodemus, under cover of darkness, never seems like enough for me either. I don’t know exactly what Jesus is getting at, of course. I’m just as confused as Nicodemus was about “being born again,” about being “born of the flesh or born of the spirit,” about where the wind comes from or where the heck it goes to next. How can these things be? And what the heaven are you talking about, Jesus?
But Jesus is just getting started, really. He goes on to do some more talking and teaching and theologizing for Nicodemus, and it all ends up with the Son of Man … on the cross … giving it all up for the sake of the world. And that’s that. We don’t really know what happens with Nicodemus. We don’t hear about how they parted ways. Did they hug it out? Did they shake hands? Did they say a prayer? Did they agree to disagree? Whatever the case, I imagine Nicodemus left with his head spinning a bit – still wondering, “How can these things be?”
And we don’t hear much about Nicodemus after this, except in Chapter 7 when he actually stands up for Jesus, in the face of some of his fellow Pharisees. And then Nicodemus shows up one more time, at the end of John’s gospel.
After the crucifixion, which it’s safe to assume he witnessed, it’s Nicodemus who helps anoint Jesus’ body and prepare it for burial. So I suspect his time with Jesus that night in the dark got his wheels spinning enough so that he was willing to get his hands dirty too.
Like all of that talk about being born again, about the wind blowing where it chooses, about the Son of Man ascending and descending, about God so loving the world that he gave his only son … all of that came together for Nicodemus when he saw it come to life – and come to death, as it were – in the flesh of Jesus, himself.
The words weren’t enough all on their own. The definitions weren’t enough all by themselves. The doctrines of what we believe only go so far and so deep and are rarely enough to speak to everyone in a way that matters.
So for the guy who approached me this week, looking for help for his friend, I gave him my name and number so we might get together and meet. I hope that happens.
For the high school kid wondering if God could ever forgive him or still love him, I reminded him that his mom and dad still did – that they still do – and that they’ve shown him that love over and over and over again – and that God’s love was even bigger and better than that.
And for the woman who cut my hair, I gave her a bigger tip than usual and told her to have a meaningful time remembering and celebrating her sister this weekend.
All that to say, again, I’m convinced we don’t find or understand or experience or share the fullness of God – Father, Son, or Spirit – solely or supremely by wrapping our brains around doctrines and definitions. The Word of God in Christ Jesus comes alive for us when we DO – like Jesus did – the work of loving one another, forgiving one another, creating experiences where grace and generosity and good news live and breathe and move through us in undeniable, abundant, life-giving ways that surprise us and others with God’s presence in all of its forms, and always crucified and risen for the sake of the world.
Amen
