Second Sunday in Lent
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Readings: Genesis 12: 1-4a and John 3: 1-17
Today’s readings present us with the challenge of change. And ‘change’ is a strong Lenten theme; after all, the Greek word for ‘repentance’, metanoia, really means turning round, or facing a new direction.
Abraham not only turned to face a new direction, he also went off on it. The Lord said to him, “Go from your country and your kindred to the land that I will show you” and then “In you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” And to this day, Christians, Jews and Moslems still look to Abraham as in some way their father; we talk about the three Abrahamic faiths. People of those three religions believe that, despite history’s testimony to the contrary, and all the religious bloodshed and bickering, God’s promise to Abraham holds true. We hold to the universal hope that, because Abraham trusted and obeyed, all our families will be blessed.
In God’s instruction to Abraham we see the divine initiative. God’s nature as love did not allow him to stand aside from creation or from the human race he had made in his own image. If sin had marred human society, then God himself was ready to take the first steps which would lead to the righting of the wrong.
Verse 5 of Genesis 12, which we don’t quite get to today, tells us that Abram was 75 years old when he set out. And a verse from Hebrews 11 adds that Abraham set out ‘not knowing where he was going.’ Now that does require faith at 75!
It is this sort of faith, this sort of willingness to be challenged, that Nicodemus, in today’s gospel, appears slow to take on board. I have a lot of time for Nicodemus. His story develops slowly in John’s gospel, as we shall see. But one eagle-eyed commentator notes that when Jesus says, “You must be born from above” – or ‘born again’ in some translations, the word ‘you’ is in the plural. So whereas we have a dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus, it is as if Jesus is talking to a wider audience – maybe the congregation that Nicodemus represents, or indeed ourselves.
I think we can imagine that Nicodemus had seen Jesus before, or been present when he was teaching. He was quite brave in wanting to meet Jesus, since conflict between Jesus and the Jewish religious leaders, whom Nicodemus represented, was well under way.
Nicodemus came to him ‘by night’. He didn’t want his visit advertised. Now light and darkness are key defining themes in John’s gospel, and ‘night’ often denotes opposition to God’s reign. Nicodemus’ approach to Jesus seems to have been genuine. But if he thought Jesus would be pleased and grateful for his interest, he must have been disappointed. Jesus immediately starts a puzzling conversation about ‘being born from above’ or ‘being born again.’ Later, Jesus even seems to mock Nicodemus: “You’re supposed to be a teacher of Israel, and you don’t understand this?”
Many people during Jesus’ ministry asked him for a sign, but Nicodemus doesn’t, because he had seen signs, and connected them, somehow, with God’s activity. He comes to Jesus in an enquiring spirit, but was he prepared to jeopardize his position as ‘a leader of the Jews’? He did risk a lot. He was a member of the Sanhedrin, of which there were only 70 members. This was the ‘supreme court’ of the Jews, and one of its functions was to examine anyone charged with being a false prophet. So for Nicodemus to approach Jesus was bold indeed. Perhaps the phrase ‘by night’ also reflected Nicodemus’ own darkness; the unanswered questions about his life and relationship with God. Maybe he knew something else was needed.
But fast forward, and we find Nicodemus has become a much closer follower of Jesus, and was prepared to stick out his neck for him. When in chapter 7 of John’s gospel, the Jewish leaders were already determining to do away with Jesus, Nicodemus speaks out; “Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing and learning what he does?” Much later, after the crucifixion, Nicodemus assists Joseph of Arimathaea in the burial of Jesus’ body, providing a huge quantity of myrrh and aloes, for anointing.
So, I think we can be fairly certain that Nicodemus experienced a turning point in his life, possibly after the encounter with Jesus we’ve heard about. He had it explained to him by Jesus. You are born once, physically, of a human mother. But there might be a time when you experience an even more significant birth; touched by the Spirit of God, willing to reach out to the unknown, to start something new; to leave behind something safe. Nicodemus knew these things with his head but had to accept them more deeply in his heart. Jesus was really saying to Nicodemus, ‘Inexpensive goodwill towards me isn’t enough; commit yourself.”
A human birth can be a dramatic moment: painful for the mother and tough for the baby being expelled from the comfort of the womb to the vulnerability of life in the world. Being born again, or ‘from above’, might be like this. We cannot tell what might happen if we abandon ourselves to God in this way, as ‘the wind blows where it chooses…so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.’
In the third reading today, which we’re not hearing, Abraham is commended for his faith. As we know from Genesis, this faith was a practical matter. At God’s direction, he left his home and all that he knew, and was even willing to sacrifice his Son until God stopped him. God himself took the risk of sending his own flesh and blood into this unpredictable, and sometimes unbelieving and violent world, as perhaps the most famous verse in the bible relates: John 3:16 “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life”
Would we be willing, are we willing, to respond to God’s call as Abraham did? We suggested earlier that Abraham’s faith was a practical matter, in that he was responding to something God had specifically asked him to do. In the language of later theology, Abraham was compelled by grace. Yet the essence of grace is that it evokes a free response and does not override a person’s liberty of choice; there is no compulsion. Here, says one writer, is one of the deepest of the mysteries of God’s dealings with us. Looking back on a particular decision, you might say, “I had to decide, and the decision was mine alone”, but on further reflection you might conclude, “God was involved in that decision, and without him I could not have made it.” Just such a decision is the act of faith whereby somebody, Abraham, Nicodemus, you or I, commits themselves in trust to God.
We can quite see why the Nicodemus story has been chosen for a Sunday reading in Lent. What is our commitment to God? Mine; yours? Are we prepared for a new start if asked? Are we open enough to God to sense that blowing of the Spirit which would call us into a new direction?
A prayer for today:
“Lord Jesus, by your words and deeds you revealed God’s love for the world. Give us the courage of Nicodemus, and fill with your Spirit all the members of your body, the Church, so that in our time and in our world we may be good news in actions that reflect your love for all. When we ask, with Nicodemus – “How can this be?” – may we trust your answers and grasp the truth, and open ourselves to the risk of change, through the power of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”