N is for Nicodemus

For me, it started in a religion class in college. I learned things like that in a lot of very reliable manuscripts, the “Red Sea” was actually named the “Reed Sea” or that there are two creation stories in Genesis. I had an assignment where we had six or seven scripture passages that were contradictory or told the same story two different ways and we had to make it make sense. It was not the professor’s intent to make us doubt our faith. She just wanted us to really think about what we were reading in the Bible.

I loved it. I was ready. I had known for a long time that there was more, you know? I grew up in a church where somehow every story had a lovely moral lesson, and everything made sense and there was always an answer. There wasn’t a lot of “I don’t know” or space for different ideas or interpretations. And I didn’t realize any of that until later, but I knew that there was something missing, I guess. Like we were flattening the Bible. So when I was learning to really see what was and not ignoring inconvenient parts and could really ask questions, I was so into it. It felt like I was finding the space where my faith could grow. And it was scary, a little, because some of it challenged things I had assumed or been taught before. But I welcomed it, mostly.

But one night a friend of mine called me in tears a semester later, after I was finished with that religion class. He was doing that same assignment where you were asked to make impossible things make sense and it was rocking his world. He was sad and mad, and looking back, I wonder if he was also a little scared. He had called to ask how I felt about all of this stuff and did I believe it or whatever. I told him how exciting I found it to be studying the Bible for real and not just learning from devotion books. He was pretty wrecked. He said “I’ve never heard stuff like this before. Why didn’t my pastor ever say anything about this? How do I know what is true?”

Just before we get into today’s scripture reading from John 3, we read this “When Jesus was in Jerusalem during the Passover festival, many believed in his name because they saw the signs that he was doing. But Jesus on his part would not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to testify about anyone; for he himself knew what was in everyone.”

I’ve been thinking a lot this week about those words, and I went back to the Greek to make sure I was interpreting it correctly. John 2:23 says that the people believed or trusted in Jesus because they’ve seen the signs he’s done. And then John 2:24 says that Jesus would not believe or entrust himself to those very same people. It’s the same word, a verb by the way, not a noun- pisteuo- believe or trust. (It’s also the same word in John 3:16, but we’re not there yet.) These people in Jerusalem have seen Jesus’ signs and they’re convinced, at least to some extent. And though they believe, Jesus can see into their character, he knows them, and he doesn’t trust them. So, he holds a bit of himself back from these believers.

And then in comes Nicodemus. He is a fascinating and important character who we also somehow release from the story when he is no longer useful for our purposes. Here in John chapter 3, we enter into one of Jesus’ most foundational teachings. This is really important stuff that, if you have a Bible verse memorized, likely comes from this passage. And it begins with this man, Nicodemus who comes to Jesus full of questions. Nicodemus is befuddled, confused, afraid. But when Jesus takes over the conversation (and rightfully so), Nicodemus’ questions fade away and we hear Jesus’ voice. And although Jesus’ words don’t magically answer every question, he seems to be giving Nicodemus (and us) a part of himself, a truth about himself and God that we haven’t seen and won’t see anywhere else in John’s Gospel. Jesus, who holds back because he can see what’s truly inside many of his believers, opens up, trusting in Nicodemus even before Nicodemus trusts in Jesus. And so today, I want us to think about Nicodemus and where, of course, our stories and his story, intersect.

Nicodemus is a good Temple-going Jew. He’s a Pharisee and a leader among his people. And yet, something is stirring in his soul. His proximity to Jesus has been shifting something inside him, opening windows, fresh air is stirring. What is a person to do when God is being revealed in a new way, in a way that might just explode everything you thought you knew about who God is? About whom your community is? When you begin to wonder if you might be on the wrong side of the debate?

For many, the temptation would be to run and hide, to white knuckle it through this crisis of faith until it passed, and you could just carry on with the status quo. But instead of avoiding all that Jesus symbolized- a disruption to his faith, his life, his community- instead of running away, Nicodemus goes to Jesus.

A lot has been made about Nicodemus’s nighttime journey to talk to Jesus. Is he embarrassed or ashamed? Afraid to be seen? Is the dark a symbol for his lack of understanding? Could it be simply that Nicodemus laid in bed awake, unable to quiet his swirling thoughts? Maybe he just couldn’t wait until sunrise to talk to Jesus. Whatever the reason (and maybe it is all of them!), Nicodemus goes, and he begins by saying what he thinks he knows. “Rabbi” he says, calling Jesus the name reserved for educated teachers of God’s law, “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.”

Was that all it took? Did Jesus in fact look into Nicodemus and know what was in him? Jesus replies to him, saying that “no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” That idea of being “born from above” is another tricky bit of translation. The word is anothen and it can be translated both “again” and “above.” This is where some Christians get the language of being “born again” and that is how Nicodemus, hearing it very literally, seems to interpret it. “How can someone be born again? Will one go back into the mother’s womb and come out again?” he wants to know.

It's likely that Jesus is using this play on words purposefully. You must be born from again, from above. It’s both/and. You must be born not just in the physical sense, but in a spiritual sense and this birth is coming into God’s reign. Jesus says a little more- this is a birth of water and the Spirit, flesh and Spirit. Y’all must be born from above/again. (It’s plural, by the way.)

In verse 8 Jesus speaks of the mystery of how all this works, saying “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.” Jesus is being vague and maybe even unhelpful. We can assume Nicodemus came here looking for answers, not riddles, and Jesus isn’t being very straightforward. I can imagine Nicodemus saying something like “make it make sense!” He’s risking everything in this conversation. His stability, his understanding of the world and of God is on the line. And Jesus isn’t giving him any simple answers.

But could it be that in the mystery, Jesus is giving the answer? Could it be that Jesus is trying to help Nicodemus see that faith is a journey of understanding? You don’t know where the wind comes from or where it goes and it is the same way with everyone who is born of the Spirit. Step into the unknown, step into the journey though the destination is a mystery. Nicodemus is buffeted by the winds of change and the waves of doubt and instead of offering an anchor, Jesus raises the sails.

The language in this passage, the actual word choice of the author is so important here. Throughout this passage, John talks about believing, which as I already mentioned, can be translated also as trusting. But catch this- throughout the Gospel of John, there is never a noun form of this word. There is never belief, a factual, intellectual understanding one must have to receive salvation. In the Gospel of John, there is only believing, the verb, the practice of trusting in God. For John belief is something you do, not something you have. And that, for Nicodemus, may be the hardest to wrap his head around. Nicodemus comes with questions hoping for straightforward answers and instead Jesus invites him into the journey, into the practice, into the mystery, into the action.

This conversation continues and Jesus keeps talking but Nicodemus doesn’t speak again, nor is he mentioned again in this passage. I wonder if he realizes he should just relax and listen. When he ceases talking, when he stops trying so hard, Jesus shares more of himself and his purpose than every before. He tells Nicodemus how God shows love for the world- by sending him and that he didn’t come to judge the world but to save it. I can’t help but wonder if, when Jesus sees into Nicodemus, he knows he can be trusted with Jesus’ own truth. But we don’t know what Nicodemus chose, if he changed, if he decided to trust Jesus back.

But in any case, Nicodemus disappears from the story until chapter 7. The chief priests and Pharisees are angry that the temple police haven’t arrested Jesus yet, and Nicodemus steps up with one question- “Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?” It’s an insipid question. He isn’t brave enough to go out on a limb to help Jesus, but he also can’t keep his mouth closed either. Regardless, he’s shot down, they don’t listen to him. We still don’t know what is in Nicodemus’ heart.

At least not until John 19 after Jesus is crucified. Joseph of Arimathea was a secret disciple of Jesus who received permission from Pilate to give Jesus a proper burial. And Nicodemus joins him in preparing Jesus’ body. Nicodemus brings a ridiculous amount of myrrh and aloes for anointing the body. They lovingly follow their customs and bury Jesus in a tomb in a garden.

It's not enough to go on. We can’t say anything in particular for sure. But I feel confident that these glimpses into Nicodemus’s story reveal that he stayed on the path. He followed Jesus, step by step. And maybe that’s enough for us to know about Nicodemus- that following Christ isn’t about knowing a set of facts or having answers to all your questions. It’s about showing up and trying and moving forward. It’s about seeking Jesus out when we need direction. It’s about continuing on our way.

It's about coming to the table over and over, trusting that we will find God’s grace there in the bread and the cup, believing that we will be nourished by these gifts, by God’s presence, by the community with whom we gather. Take, give thanks, eat, drink, remember. All verbs. One more- come.