Sermon Archive

"Nighttime Truth"

© by The Reverend David D. Prince
A sermon preached at Rutgers Presbyterian Church
on the Second Sunday in Lent, February 17, 2008, Year A;
Scripture Lessons: Psalm 121, John 3:17

Our Gospel reading is one of the great chapters in the Bible, the third chapter of John's Gospel. Many of us learned the sixteenth verse of the chapter, and can quote it from memory. "For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish, but have eternal life." From time to time someone in the grandstands at a ballgame will hold up a sign that says "John 3:16" as though people watching will automatically know what it means. People who memorized the verse may not have learned the context for John 3:16. And context or setting is always important. The story of Nicodemus's encounter with Jesus is one that can teach us a great deal.

John tells us Nicodemus went to see Jesus by night. I could preach an entire sermon on the "by night" facet of the story. John didn't add that interesting detail just for the sake of historical accuracy. John uses the word night to imply distance from God or a condition of lostness (being lost). Later in the Gospel when John tells about Judas leaving the Last Supper to perform his act of betraying Jesus to the authorities, John writes, "It was night." Nicodemus went to see Jesus at night. He was lost, he was far from his spiritual home.

The most common inference drawn from the fact that Nicodemus went to see Jesus is that Nicodemus didn't want to be seen seeking spiritual wisdom from an obscure carpenter who had become a teacher and healer. Nicodemus was a religious leader in his community; he was a prominent person. He had his reputation to consider. But he went to see Jesus, even if it was in the night. What a wise thing to do in his awareness of need. He was willing to ask for help, even though he was a man. He went to see Jesus.

The conversation began not with a question but with a statement by Nicodemus. "Jesus, Rabbi (teacher), you must have come from God because you do such wonderful things." I think the Gospel writers wanted to show us people who base their sense of worth on what they know intellectually. Jesus went right past the "knowledge," right past the implied flattery, in effect ignoring what Nicodemus had said. Jesus changed the focus of the conversation. He has a way of doing that, a way of redirecting our attention.

"No one can enter the Kingdom of God without being re-born from above," Jesus answered. The New Revised Standard Version of the Bible gives the translation born from above, and adds a footnote saying born anew or born again.

The Greek word anothen clearly means from above (from God implied), and it also connotes repetition. Jesus told Nicodemus in his lostness that entering the realm of God's providence, where human beings are intended to be, requires an action from God that can best be described as being born all over again. Nicodemus didn't understand what Jesus meant. He was reluctant to "think outside the box." There is still a lot of confusion about this idea of being born again or born from above.

A couple of weeks ago Bill Moyers interviewed John Grisham on television. Grisham said that his faith has influenced his writing —the themes and language of his books. Grisham's most recent book was about to go on sale, and the usually reticent author was willing to talk about his life as well as about his writing. He is concerned that the ultra-conservative wing of the Southern Baptist convention has hijacked the denomination. He said in a low key kind of way that his Christian faith is important to him and is part of his identity. He is joining with former President Carter in attempting to offer an alternate way of being Southern Baptist with a more balanced social and political agenda. Bill Moyers, himself a longtime Southern Baptist now a member of Riverside Church here in Manhattan, asked John Grisham if he had been born again. Grisham very calmly said simply, "Yes, as a young person." Moyers nodded in affirmation.

What does it mean to be born again? A part of the larger Christian community has taken Jesus' phrase, given it their own spin, and tried to have exclusive ownership of it. No way! Some Christians, and I have friends among them, insist that to be born again means to have a sudden conversion experience that can be pinpointed as to time and place. Some people have that kind of conversion experience, and I would defend its validity. But not all Christians have that kind of experience, and they can be included in the term born again, especially as it means being born from above.

I was talking about this subject with a friend who asked me if I was a born again Christian. When I said I was, he said to me, "Tell me when and where you were born again." I told him it was the occasion of my baptism as an infant in a Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia. You see, I was born then by water and the Spirit. That's what baptism is all about. And that's what being born from above is all about. I refuse to surrender the term "born again" to the Christian Right, just as I refuse to surrender the term "Bible-believing" to the Christian Right.

Jesus helps us understand the danger of taking large, spacious spiritual truths and squeezing them into tight, narrow categories. When he talks about being born of the Spirit, Jesus goes on to say it's like trying to pin down the wind. You hear it and you see its effect, but you cannot say definitively where it has come from or where it is going. "So it is with people who are born of the Spirit." I hear in that a real caution against making spiritual truth a series of neat, absolute statements. We need a certain flexibility when we talk about entering the realm of God's rule, where human beings are intended to live.

Jesus used his conversation with Nicodemus as a springboard for a short discourse, in which he said that his entire mission, including his death, was an expression of God's love for the world. He said that the end result of people's trusting him, or believing in him, was their receiving eternal life, another term that cries out for explanation. He speaks of the same reality as being saved.

For me salvation and eternal life are the same thing. They are the opposite of what the writer John meant by night, or being lost and apart form God. Salvation and eternal life are about knowing oneself, about knowing oneself to be loved so much by God that one is at peace with one's identity and destiny. It is about being at home —at home in the universe and at home in one's own skin. It is being centered. For me it is about knowing my identity and believing that the relationships essential to my happiness will never be lost, but will come to fulfillment in God's completion of all things.

In his collection of essays called The Longing for Home, Presbyterian novelist and ordained minister Frederick Buechner tells about his own spiritual re-birth. Living in New York and struggling to write and have his first novel published, he wandered into a church where George Buttrick was the pastor. (It was the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church.) Buechner says that for him the moment of truth came as Dr. Buttrick asked the question of his December Sunday morning congregation, "Are you going home for Christmas?" Buechner says the question was asked in a way that "brought tears to my eyes and made it unnecessary for him to move on to his answer to the question, which was that home, finally is in the manger in Bethlehem, the place where at midnight even the oxen kneel. Home is where Christ is."

Home is the truth of Good Friday and Easter, the truth that God's love is stronger than whatever tries to defeat or distort it. Home is where we know how much God loves us just as we are, and how much God loves those we love. "For God loved the world so much that God gave the only Son, so that whoever trusts in God will not perish, but will be at home eternally."

If you've been in our church elevator, and I'm sure you have been, you know there is a sign there that says we are a church without walls —sure we have the kind of walls that support the roof, but not the kind of walls that keep people out. Not only do we welcome everybody to our worship and our fellowship, we also welcome everyone to share our journey toward wholeness.

Wherever you are on your life's journey, whether it feels like night or you feel close to home, I hope you hear our message about God's unconditional love. That love affirms you and opens the way to feeling at home in your own skin, in the circumstances of your life. It sets you free to have a healthy concern for other people, free to work for reconciliation and peace with justice.

May we be the kind of church where God's love is so welcoming, so healing, that people will receive the help they need in finding their way home.

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