|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Genesis 12:1–4a |
Psalm
121 |
Romans
4:1–5, 13–17
|
John 3:1-17 |
The tragedy at Northern Illinois University this week unnerves us all. Such incidents understandably increase fear, distrust, and anger, yet rarely do such reactions promote healing. The midwife of health is faith and trust in the value and purpose of life, rather than a search for recrimination or withdrawal. That is why I am suspicious of groups that offer a reassurance of false security by promising that if you separate yourself from larger society, if you follow a provided list of do’s and don’ts, God is certain to protect you and will hold you in a special place above all others.
We live in a culture that lures the fearful to join myriad systems, both secular and religious, that share a closed circle of ritual, rules, and philosophy promising to guarantee you personal safety and wellbeing. Like poisonous waterholes in a dessert, it is so tempting to ignore the warning signs until we have tried to quench our thirst.
There was a certain scholar teaching in Jerusalem named Nicodemus. He lived in an era of social turmoil and spiritual questioning. Yet Nicodemus tried to keep to the traditional rules as best he could. He set out to order his life in the path of spiritual integrity. Still Nicodemus knew something was out of sync. He was honest enough to perceive a gnawing emptiness inside him and to realize his quests were leading to dead ends. His answers did not satisfy what he was feeling in his heart. Somehow, somewhere, maybe from one of his students, he heard of Jesus, a new rabbi from the hinterland, who appeared to inject a spirit of enthusiasm and hope into those who heard him. Nicodemus knew that he must find out for himself.
They met at night, in Bethany, a hamlet just over the hill from Jerusalem where Nicodemus was likely not to be seen or recognized. After all, Nicodemus was one with a distinguished reputation, and Jesus was, at best, a minor country rabbi. Nicodmeus was almost gratuitous at first, but Jesus was never intimated and quickly got to the point. Jesus knew why Nicomdemus was there. He understood Nicodemus’ longing, his fear, and his search for a spark of hope. Yes, Nicodemus, underneath the protective layers of his academic robes, was scared. They talked until dawn and then Nicodemus went back to Jerusalem,
Presumably Nicodemus kept up a calm front, giving his lectures and dispensing the correct answers. However, inside him things were churning. Nicodemus will meet Jesus again.
It is often the case that we never know the full story of one’s spiritual transformation. There is certainly a large blank in the story of Nicodemus' journey. We do know, however, that Nicodemus keeps returning, especially at critical times. Nicodemus is the one who offers a defense of Jesus before the Sanhedrin, the supreme religious court. That action is hardly the action of an uncommitted bystander. Then, when many of Jesus’ disciples had fled in terror, Nicodemus stood by the cross and helped Joseph of Arimathaea prepare and place the body of Jesus in the tomb. Perhaps, in a sense, Nicodemus left part of himself in the tomb also.
Jesus did not stay buried, and the story of Nicodemus did not stay buried either. On Easter morning Nicodemus surely understood that God’s Good News is not found hidden in a closed system of facile answers or separation from humanity, but in embracing God in a trusting relationship, hanging on for dear life, and risking loving relationships with others. Nicodemus was indeed born again, not losing his real self, but gaining it. Nicodemus at last becomes like his ancestors, Sarah and Abraham, and sets out in hope and courage, as God leads him into a new life.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
