June 18, 2000
The sun has set; the night shadows are all that is left. In the dark night, Nicodemus sneaks out of his house, probably through the back door, hustles down alley ways and by ways, hiding in the shadows, to go out and meet Jesus.
Nicodemus is the best that Israel has to offer. He is outstanding. He is a Pharisee. In the first century, there were two theological positions: the Pharisees and the Sadducees. The Pharisees believed in resurrection, as opposed to the Sadducees who did not. Nicodemus was a ruler of the people. We know that because Jesus mentions it. He was on the Sanhedrin, the high council of the Jewish religion in the time of the Roman occupation. He himself was a rabbi, a teacher of the people. So, we know that Nicodemus is the very best Israel has to offer. He is intelligent, he is well educated, undoubtedly wealthy and spiritually sensitive.
Can't you just hear it as he listens to the voices inside his head? "Better go back. It is dark out, not safe — best to go back. After all, you are a pillar of institutional religion. That could all change if someone finds out where you are going tonight and what you plan to do. Better go back. Think about yourself, your standing in the community. Think about what people will think of you if you have a private meeting with Jesus. Think about your family — the scandal you could bring on them. Think about them if you lose your livelihood. Where will they live? What will they eat? What will they do? Don't be so selfish. Think about your community. You are a leader. It will fracture the community if you continue on this course. Think about your nation. If you continue going out here to speak with Jesus and to become one of his disciples, the Roman government may take a dim view of any split, any warfare, any strife in the community. They will come down hard with their jackboots. Think about your career — you have a good one. Go back. Go back."
But as we know, Nicodemus does not listen to those voices. He continues on his way. Nicodemus knew everything there was to know about religion, but he didn't know about God's presence. Nicodemus was going out tonight because he had finally grown weary of the God-shaped hole in his heart that could not be filled by education, by status in the community, by position in society or by anything else. This is not a "once upon a time" story. This is as contemporary a story as this hour. It is a very familiar situation — having a God-shaped hole in our hearts and trying to fill it with so many things. To strive after knowing everything we can know about the scriptures, about worship, about the church, but never finding the Lord of the church.
Now let me hasten to add I am not standing up as the rector of this parish and indicting religion. That is not the point. Jesus did not indict worship and religion. He worshipped in the temple in Jerusalem. He worshipped in the synagogues of the Middle East. He himself was a rabbi. He knew the scriptures forward and backward. He was curious about the scriptures at least from the time he was a young boy.
What is indicted by the story of Niodemus is the approach of cause and effect. It's the approach that says, "If I know the religion, then I will know God." That idea is being shattered in this story because Nicodemus sets an example for us that no matter how much we know about religion and scriptures, it doesn't necessarily lead to knowing the Lord of the church and scripture. Jesus' response makes it clear too. It says, you can't computerize God. You can't make God predictable. You can know something about God, but knowing about God is different from experiencing God in your life. To do that you must be born again.
That can't be discovered or called into being at set tines and in set places. It can happen anywhere, at anytime. Perhaps the yearning is first awakened at this place and at this time. Perhaps a moment of illumination occurs in this place, but not necessarily. It can occur in so very many other places. It is unpredictable when the Holy Spirit will touch our lives, and more than likely, it will happen when our guard is down rather than when we expect it. There are stories that Jesus tells about this too.
The words that he says to Nicodemus today hit him with the weight of Mount Horeb, "You must be born again." Nicodemus replies, "What? What? — How can a grown man enter into his mother's womb a second time and be born again? That is too hard! Too hard!" And Jesus says, "You are right. In fact, it is impossible to do it that way, but the Holy Spirit can cause you to be born again through the Spirit. A whole new life can be given to you, even in your old age, even in your maturity, even after you have grown way too large to fit into your mother's womb."
Being born anew, born of the Spirit — one of the catch phrase words that is almost plaguing our church in our lifetime, becomes the focus of much of the division in the church today. We get so wrapped around the axle on being born again, that we argue over it. How it's to really be done? And, we institutionalize being born again as some additional rite of the church. We argue about nurture versus conversion. We Episcopalians say we baptize our infants when they are born and raise them to know the Lord; it is our desire that our children grow up to never know the time when they do not know the Lord as their personal savior.
Yet, some of our Protestant friends will argue that no, it has to happen at the age of maturity and everybody has to have a conversion experience. Which, I assume, means everybody has to stray. Well, let me tell you, everybody I know has strayed, but that doesn't necessarily mean they didn't know better. We argue over nurture versus conversion and miss the point that it is the work of the Spirit rather than our own work that gets us there.
For whatever reason, for the last few weeks, I have been thinking about my boyhood. The other day, I was thinking about the summers I spent on a farm in Georgia which had all kinds of things that grow in the ground, but also all kinds of critters. I don't know if you've ever tried to force a calf into a barn — it doesn't work! You either let the mother cow lead the calf in or you at least put out some fresh hay and water, or some oats, something that has an aroma to attract the calf in by itself. If you try forcing it, the calf will go into the pasture as far away from you as it can get! I know that from firsthand experience. Likewise, trying to force a conversion experience or requiring a conversion experience is just like that.
Jesus makes a point to Nicodemus, "You can't force that, Nicodemus, you have to let it happen." One way to say that is, "Nicodemus, get lost!" Lost, not in the sense of "make yourself scarce, I don't want to talk to you," but get lost in wonder, love and praise. Get lost in the praise of God. Let down all your barriers which are the things that give us our security. Let go of all those preconceived notions and let the Holy Spirit enter that hole in your heart and fill it in a way that will fill it perfectly.
We come to this moment and hear this story as though it just happened, knowing that as we look around the church, or look in the mirror, we see people who have lived a routine of long faithful church membership, who have lived a routine of lifelong attendance, but who still discover there is a nagging voice in their hearts that says, "I want to know you," and the voice is that of God.
We look around the room, sometimes in the mirror, and see a disturbing smile — the disturbing smile of a so-called "born again or spirit-filled Christian" who has learned that smiling all the time is a sign of being filled with the Holy Spirit. But the smile masks an emptiness that won't go away.
We come to this place, not because there is some magic that will fill us with the Holy Spirit, but to have our reality shifted so that we can recognize the shape of the hole and recognize that only God can fill it — we can let down our guard and allow the surprise to happen, whenever it does. It is much too hard to do it ourselves, Jesus acknowledges that, but it is no task at all for the Holy Spirit. It is in the power of the Holy Spirit that this religious enterprise makes sense. It is in the power of the Spirit that our religious life comes alive and gives us true joy in our hearts. It is in the power of the Holy Spirit that we are lifted to the presence of God where we are known completely and loved completely.
Nicodemus is the best that Israel has to offer and he is drawn to God because he knows there is more to it than what he has discovered in the scriptures and in the worship of Israel. He risks everything to go to Jesus. That same decision is ours today. To decide, or to decide again, to abandon ourselves, to come looking for the fulfillment of our heart's desire; to come to God the Father; to come through the calling of Jesus Christ as he bids us out in the dark of night to search him out; to come by the power of the Holy Spirit that whispers in that still, small voice in our ear, "I want to know you."
Or, we can decide, or re-decide to continue to live our lives predicated upon, or justified by, seeking the acceptance and praise of other people. In our theology, we know we are baptized into the Holy Trinity in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit — that our church and our lives are built upon the rock of that faith. But, is it just theology or is it reality? Will we seek the reality of God's filling spirit or will we rely on being a member of the church, a substitute, a compromise, for true salvation? AMEN.
The Rev. Dr. Robert Certain
rgcertain@stmargarets.org
18 June 2000