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Pentecost 5
John 5:1-15  

In this morning’s text we have the third of John’s seven miracle stories. Remember, John calls these events signs, because of what they point to. As you will recall, both the turning of water into wine and the healing of the court official’s son were signs that pointed to the divinity of Jesus, but in different ways. This third sign does the same thing, in yet another way. It does so by showing that Jesus is Lord of the Sabbath. And as John points out, what Jesus did and said caused great anger among the Jewish religious leaders because they understood that Jesus was ‘making himself equal to God.’ This point about who Jesus was is one John has been making since the opening of his Gospel. And he does it again in this miracle story.

But instead of focusing once more on what should be becoming obvious to us, I would like to look at this story from a different perspective – from that of the lame man and religious leaders of the time, both of whom were so preoccupied with their own concerns that they failed to see God at work before their very eyes.

So, in today’s text we have a miracle account in John that looks a bit like the miracle stories included in the other Gospels. But there are some differences that make it stand out. What strikes us immediately is that this man, unlike the desperate father in last week’s reading, does not seek out Jesus, nor does he ask for healing when Jesus finds him. In fact, when Jesus prods him to ask for healing – which he clearly wanted after 38 years waiting beside what the locals believed to be a miracle pool – he simply complains about never being able to get into the pool first when the water was stirred, likely by a intermittent spring under the pool. After 38 years waiting to be healed you would think he would know why he was there. You would think that he would have answered, ‘Yes, of course I wish to be made well,’ when Jesus asked him. But over the years he had been conditioned to expect nothing to happen. But even though he does not ask to be healed, even when prompted by Jesus, Jesus heals him anyway.

It is a reminder that God can freely work in our lives whether we ask for his help or not. Healing (like the even greater gift of forgiveness that Jesus alludes to when he encounters the man again later that day in the temple) is not a reward for asking in the right way, or for strong enough faith. The lame man in this story does not ask for healing, not even when invited to. And beyond that, he had no idea who healed him until later that day. So the man is not healed because of any amount of faith on his part. This was a pure act of grace.

In some ways he was not dissimilar to the Pharisees and Priests in the temple. They had been conditioned to see their faith as simply about rules and their enforcement. It was all they could see. So when the man showed up at the temple for the first time in 38 years – walking – what did they see? Not a lame man who had been healed after a lifetime of being unable to walk. All they saw was a man carrying a mat on the Sabbath, which was one of the items that they listed as a ‘burden’ that should not be carried on a Sabbath, as this would constitute work.

So how did the Pharisees miss this point and become hung up on a trivial rule? And how did the lame man seem to forget why he had been going to this pool every day for the past 38 years?

It is because we tend only to see what is important to us. We tend to see what we have been conditioned to see. And sometimes, that means we miss the bigger picture of what is happening.

When I was eight years old I wanted a bicycle in the worst way. Many of the kids in school had bikes. And the ‘townies’ used to ride their bikes to school when the weather was good. Their bikes all were of the same style, with banana seats and butterfly handlebars. They were completely useless as bikes, but easy for kids to ride. And I wanted one of those. After many weeks of asking, my father brought home an old bicycle someone had given him for free. What he brought home was not a kid’s butterfly handlebar bike with banana seat, but an old single speed Schwinn with balloon tyres and pedal brakes. And it was an adult size so I could not reach the pedals.  My Father said if I could ride this bike 100 yards (100 metres) he would get me one of those bikes like the other kids at school had.

So to ride this I would lean the bike against a tree at the top of small hill, climb up, then push myself off.  It took several days of trying before I was able to roll forward at all before the bike fell over. My little sister was a frequent and interested spectator in my efforts. We measured out the distances I rode by pacing them out after each ride. After a couple of weeks I was able to make it about 10 metres before falling over. Well short of the goal. I finally worked out that without being able to pedal I was not able to get of enough speed to maintain balance. What I needed was a bigger hill! So with my sister in tow, we went to a long dirt track at the back of our farm which had a hill of just over the required 100 yard distance. It was a long steep incline with quite a few tree roots across parts of the track. But it was the best chance of getting enough speed to stay up on the bike. All I had to do was make it to the bottom, where the track turned sharply to the left and headed back toward our house. We found an oak tree near the top of the hill and I climbed up, as I had with the smaller hill, and balanced myself. My sister prepared to push me off when I was ready, as we had been doing on the smaller hill. A small voice at the back of my head was saying that this was a bad idea. But I was eight, so I ignored the voice and shoved off, my sister pushing to help me get up speed. It worked. The faster speed from the hill allowed me, though wobbly, to keep upright. I soon passed my previous record and was still going. I hit the first patch of tree roots and managed to stay on the bike. I was actually riding! And gaining speed. But because I could not reach the pedals I could also not brake.

About 100 metres down the hill the dirt track took a sharp turn to the left. I didn’t’ have the bike handling skills to make the bike turn with the track and went straight instead, and right into a pile of firewood that tapered down at a 45 angle to the ground. Somehow I managed to hit the wood pile straight on and my speed sent me up the woodpile like it was a ramp. I flew into the air above the wood pile, then came down on top of the woodpile on my back, with the bike landing on top of me, then skidded off the side onto the ground, the bike now tangled around my twisted and bleeding legs. I was winded and not able to breathe or speak. The pain was intense and instant. I remember hearing my sister running up behind me to see what had happened. She said “I’ll tell Mum,” and rand off toward the house. I lay in agony waiting for my mother to come and tend to my wounds. And I kept waiting. But no one came. Finally, I managed to pull myself free and limp home. I came through the kitchen dripping blood onto the floor. My Mum exclaimed: ’What happened to You! Are you okay?”

“No,” I said. ‘Didn’t April tell you I crashed into the wood pile at the bottom of the hill?”

“No,” my Mum said. ‘She only said, ‘Mark rode his bike farther than he ever has before.”

For my sister, the main thing she took out of what happened was the fact that I had succeeded in breaking my previous record for bike riding distance. And that I had clearly made it to the bottom of the hill, meeting my father’s challenge. The dramatic crash at the end that left me broken and bleeding and tangled within my bike on a pile of firewood did not seem to have registered with her as important. I was quite upset with her. How could she not notice my pain? How could she not bring help?

All she could say was that she thought I would want our Mother to know that I made it to the bottom of the hill.

Today’s story of the healing of the lame man by the pool by the Sheep Gate is like that difference in perspective between my sister and I of what happened with the bicycle. In almost comic fashion the Jewish religious authorities, upon seeing a man who has been lame for 38 years suddenly walking and carrying the mat he had been laying on, seem to completely overlook the enormity of the miracle and the joy of the man’s healing. And this was surely the main thing they should have noticed. After all, didn’t they want to celebrate a miracle. Didn’t they believe that making the lame walk was one of the sign that the Messiah had come?

But the only thing that seems to have caught their attention was that the man was carrying his mat. And as no burden was allowed to be carried on the Sabbath, and the authorities of the day had included bed mats on the list of things that were a burden to carry, the man was clearly in violation of the rules.

Sometimes we become so focused on some minor point or get hung up on some rule that we lose sight of what is most important.

In many ways we are all like both the man who was lame, who seems to have forgotten why he was going to the miraculous pool every day in the first place when someone came along and asked if he wanted to be healed. He only complained about the unfairness of not being able to get to the pool first after the water was stirred. And the religious leader in the temple couldn’t see that a miracle had occurred. That a man’s life had been transformed. That this could be a sign the Messiah had at last come. All they could see was the offending mat.

So what things in our lives have we become hung up on? What things have we become so conditioned to see as important that we fail to see what God is doing in our lives and in the lives of those around us?

Perhaps we are overly concerned with some political issue and this is all we see. Perhaps we have become so convinced that Christian faith is about behaving in a certain way or following certain rules, that like the religious leaders in the temple, we completely miss the big things God is doing before our very eyes. Or perhaps, like the lame man, we have become so accustomed to things not going our way, and so upset about the unfairness of it all, that when Jesus offers us his love we take no notice and keep on feeling sorry for ourselves.

Today’s Gospel story points once again to who Jesus is: God in human flesh who has come to live among us. But it also reminds us to open our eyes to see what God is doing in us and around us, and not be so caught is so many other petty concerns that we can no longer see the bigger picture of God’s love active in our lives and in our world.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

4 Pentecost 4
John 4:43-54

John is very sparse in his miracle stories. He includes only seven of them. And unlike the other Gospel writers, he does not call them miracles, but signs. What is important, for John, is what they point to.

You will remember the first of the seven ‘signs’ that John recorded was the turning of water to wine at the wedding in Cana. It was, and remains, in the view of many, a rather odd miracle for Jesus to begin his ministry with. But remember, the point is that it was chiefly meant to be a sign. And while many have wondered over the years what was really the point of rescuing a poorly planned wedding celebration, the sign performed was no ordinary miracle. Many prophets and others, through the power of God, had performed miracle of provision of food or water, great acts of healing, even reviving the dead. But the Jewish understanding of miracle also included a category of the miracle of creation. Of making something that did not exist before. This was a miracle that in the biblical record, only God could do. So when Jesus begins his ministry with turning water into wine, instead of healing a blind person or raising someone from the dead, it might seem rather understated to us. But for those who understood the symbolism, it was a clear message. This was no ordinary miracle worker. This was God himself. No one else could create wine when there was nothing but water to begin with.

And now John comes to what he indicates is Jesus’ second sign. But, of course, we know it is not. John himself makes a point of telling us that Jesus had performed many signs, or miracles, in Jerusalem.  What John means is that this is the second sign that he wants to tell us about. Like the first one he relates, it is symbolically important. And once again, it takes place in the little Galilean village of Cana, not far from Nazareth where Jesus grew up.

So here is the background to the second miracle or sign in Cana.

John begins by telling us that Jesus is heading back to Galilee from Jerusalem. He has just passed through Samaria where he encountered the woman at the well. He was delayed there two days teaching the people of the woman’s village. This gives time for other pilgrims from Galilee to return home, and also for news of what he did in Jerusalem (cleansing the temple, teaching with authority, performing many signs) to make it back to Galilee – including to the court of King Herod Antipas, the man who had imprisoned and then executed John the Baptist, and whose father had sought the death of Jesus as an infant.

A second point to note is that before John begins the account of this second miracle in Cana he relates that after two days in the village of Sychar in Samaria Jesus continued on from Jerusalem on his way to Galilee. Then John adds this comment, ‘because as Jesus himself had said, a prophet has no honour in his home country’ (v. 44). Now this is interesting because the other three gospels have this same saying. But in each of them it takes place when Jesus is being rejected either in Nazareth or in Galilee more generally. But John turns this around.

In John’s account Jesus is leaving Jerusalem where he had taught and done wonders, and has been rejected. He has just been accepted by a town of Samaritans, and now he is on his way to Galilee where the text says ‘the Galileans welcomed him, since they had seen all that he had done in Jerusalem at the festival, for they too had gone to the festival’ (v. 45). And, of course, the story of the sign that comes is further evidence of his being accepted, not rejected, in Galilee.

Many have wondered whether John has made a mistake here and somehow misplaced this saying of Jesus. The explanation is rather to be sought in the emphasis John puts on Jerusalem and the temple throughout his Gospel. As the Messiah, the descendent and heir to David, Jerusalem is Jesus’ true home and country. And it is in Jerusalem, John wants to point out, and not in Galilee, where Jesus was not accepted. So what takes place next is also part of the case against Jerusalem and the authorities there.

Then John tells us that Jesus comes to Galilee. And he goes to Cana. To get there he would have had to travel past the Sea of Galilee and several major towns. And John points out that it was in Cana where Jesus had turned water into wine. So this is an indication that we might expect something to happen again here. And it does.

And now the miracle story.

There was an important official in the court of King Herod who was based in the administrative centre of Capernaum, about 30 kms away from Cana. The name used in the Greek to describe the man is basilikos, which literally means ‘little king’ and was often used of a prince or an important court official. Whether the man was a Jew or Gentile we do not know. Herod would have had both in his court. While some think him to be the same man described as a centurion, or Roman officer, in the synoptics who was also from Capernaum and had a servant who was ill, it is more likely that John is describing an entirely different incident.

The man’s son is very sick and is near death. If any of you have ever had a child who is seriously ill, then you can relate to the desperation of this man. With his influence he would have had access to the best physicians connected to the king’s court. But they could do nothing. His son was dying and there was nothing he could do about it.

When our youngest child was born he was born with two-thirds of his diaphragm missing and only one semi-functioning, undersized and partially collapsed lung. Surgery was done the next day to rebuild the diaphragm. But there was nothing they could do to restore the lungs. We were told he would likely not survive more than a few days before his lung wore out from being on the highest level of the ventilator.

We were desperate. We asked every question. Explored every option. We arranged for him to be baptized before his surgery. My wife thought if the bishop did the baptism that might help. So she called him and insisted he come immediately. And he did. Like the father in today’s story, she was a very desperate and very insistent parent. Our son clung on for two weeks before his lung function began to deteriorate. I was home minding out other children and Kathy was keeping vigil when the call came. I dropped the children off at the home of friends who lived near the hospital, and hurried in to say my goodbyes to our son.

We waited with him all through the night and the next day. He did not improve, but he also has stopped deteriorating. And then his lung began slowly to strengthen and the ventilator was turned down ever so slightly. Against all odds he turned a corner. He was going to make it. But it was a horrible and frightening time in which we felt both desperate and helpless. And that is how the father in today’s story is feeling.

He is so desperate, in fact, that when he hears Jesus is in Cana, he gets some men together, and sets out immediately to find Jesus.

Now there are a couple of points that we should take note of. Firstly, how does the man know about Jesus? Jesus had just begun his ministry and the only thing he had done in Galilee before heading to Jerusalem was the turning of water to wine in Cana. It is not the sort of occurrence that would likely have been taken note of in King Herod’s court. What is more likely is that reports had preceded Jesus’ return to Galilee. During the two days Jesus lingered in Samaria, messengers surely would have come to King Herod’s court to report that a Galilean preacher had made a big scene in the temple, casting out all the money changers, and had performed many miracles. This would have been of special interest to Herod and his officials who had only recently dealt with the last troublesome Galilean preacher, John the Baptist. So this court official likely had only in the past few days, that is, after the onset of his son’s serious illness, heard of Jesus of Nazareth.

The second thing to note is the risk the man was taking in going to Jesus. His boss, King Herod, had arrested and then executed John. The same John who had pointed to Jesus as his ‘successor’. Now Jesus, who many were saying was John the Baptist come back to life, perhaps to see justice and vengeance against Herod, was seemingly picking up where John had left off. It is unlikely that Herod would have been pleased for one of his high officials to go to Jesus for help. And it is very unlikely that the man had sought Herod’s approval. His son’s life hung in the balance. He was willing to deal with the consequences of his going to Jesus later.

When the man finds Jesus, he does not ask him to come and help his son. He begs him.

Jesus responds to the man using the plural for ‘you’, hence speaking to the entire crowd, including his disciples. ‘’Unless you see sings and wonders you will not believe.” This is not a promising response for the desperate father, but he persists.

‘Sir, come down to Capernaum before my little boy dies!’

Then Jesus says, ‘Go. Your son will live.’

And the man believe the words Jesus spoke to him and starts for home.

And this is interesting. The father did not ask for proof. He did not ask how Jesus knew his son would live. But he believed Jesus was telling the truth and started straight for home, so eager was he to return to the side of his son. But it was already afternoon and he would not make it back that night. So he camps with his men along the way and gets up to continue the journey early the next morning.

At the same time, back in Capernaum, something both remarkable and unexpected has happened. The fever left the boy who was near death. And some of the man’s servants were so keen to tell him the good news that they left immediately to head for Cana, for they knew where their master had gone and why.  They likely would have met up along the narrow, rocky path through the hill country of Galilea sometime just before noon the next day. The man’s servants share with him the good news and he rejoices. Then he asks the question, ‘When did the fever break?’ And they tell him that is was about 1 p.m. the previous day, the very hour in which Jesus had said to him, ‘Your son will live.’

Now this is the key point to this miracle story and the one we often overlook. It is why the man went from believing the words Jesus said to him about his son, to he and his whole family believing in Jesus himself.

A prophet or soothsayer could perhaps predict that someone might recover from a serious illness. And as Jesus was clearly something along those lines from all reports the man had heard, and he said with such confidence that his son would live, the man believed his words.

But when he learned that his son suddenly recovered at the very time that Jesus had said he would, it was immediately apparent that Jesus and not successfully predicted his son’s recovery. Jesus had caused it. He had healed him. This was a whole other level from simple prediction. Not only that, but he had done so from a distance. There was no precedent for this.

And this is the point John wants to make. It is why this is one of only seven miracles of Jesus he chooses to tell us about. Like the changing of water to wine, it is not a spectacular miracle. There was nothing for the crowd present to see. But it is a sign of who Jesus is. In all the biblical miracle accounts, healings and other miracles only take place when the one God is working through is immediately present. There are no healings or miracles at a distance. But Jesus heals this boy from thirty kilometres away. In this second sign we see once more that in Jesus we are not simply dealing with a miracle worker or a prophet, even a very great one. Something much bigger is happening here. God himself is living and acting among us.

And so the man goes from believing the words Jesus has spoken to believing in Jesus.

And that is the challenge still for us today. Jesus speaks wise and good words. We have many of them recorded in the Gospels. We can easily believe Jesus is the speaker of truth, without really believing in Jesus himself. It is the difference between knowledge and faith. The desperate father understood that his son would live. He understood that Jesus spoke the truth. The next day he came to have faith that Jesus was God in flesh, and he and his whole family became followers of Jesus, despite the risks.

And the challenge and call is that we too move from simply believing what Jesus says to believing in who Jesus is for us. May we move from a knowledge about Jesus to faith in Jesus – as faith so strong, that like the father in the story we cannot help but to tell our family and friends about Jesus.

May we go from looking for a miracle, like the father in the story, to understanding that Jesus is the miracle. God in human flesh, come to dwell among us.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.

May the grace and peace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, be with you always.  Let’s join in a word of prayer: Lord God, You know all there is to know about each one of us.  You reveal all that we need to know about You to receive salvation. We gather here in fellowship to receive your living water, and to be reassured of your great love for us.   We worship You and we praise You for this great love.  Guide our time together so that we may be encouraged by your message for us. Gracious heavenly Father, hear our prayer in the name of our risen Lord Jesus.  Amen.

A while back, a Mercedes-Benz TV commercial showed one of their cars colliding with a concrete wall during a safety test. After viewing this advert, someone from the press asked a Mercedes engineer why their company didn’t enforce their patent on their car’s energy-absorbing car body. The Mercedes’ design had been copied by almost every other car maker in the world in spite of having an exclusive designer’s patent.

The engineer replied in a clipped German accent, that I couldn’t copy, “Because in life, some things are just too important not to share.” ^{(King Duncan, Collected Sermons, www.Sermons.com)}

 What a great statement. ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

      As Christians we believe that the good news of Jesus Christ is one of those things that is too important not to share. We accept that Jesus Christ should be shared with our friends, our neighbours, the world. The work of sharing the good news of Jesus Christ is simply witnessing our faith. Most often we do this with our attitudes, our words and our actions that quietly demonstrate our faith as we live our ordinary lives. But faith in a Saviour who is anything but ordinary.   

      At times, Christian faith has been advanced more intentionally by people who were willing to step outside of their comfort zones to witness the good news of Christ.  Even with our best efforts to make a difference with our witness, I want to reassure that we are not always going to get it right.  And that is OK.  God can use what we give to his purpose and advantage.

     John gives us an example of the pattern for witnessing the good news of salvation by our faith in the Son whom God sent.  If we remember, last week we spent some time with Nicodemus.  A man in the know, accustomed to being at the heart of things in the Jewish world.  A leader of the Pharisees, and a person of learning.  When Jesus spoke to this reluctant believer, it made all the difference for Nicodemus. ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

     This week, in John’s Gospel, we spent some time with the very opposite of Nicodemus.  An unnamed Samaritan woman, accustomed to being on the outside of society.  Being controlled by the various men in her life, and serving at the whims of chance.   

     When Jesus spoke to her, she showed unexpected wisdom, and Jesus made all the difference in her life.  ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

     Nicodemus came to Jesus with uncertainty, to discover the source of his authority in the world. Jesus explained that his source is the Holy Spirit,  a mystery that eludes human understanding.

     The Samaritan Woman came to the well with a certainty born of pain.  Then Jesus spoke to her and awakened within her an excitement held captive by circumstance.    

     In our lives, whether we come to Jesus with a certainty of our circumstances, or the uncertainty of our future, Jesus makes all the difference.  We can approach our Saviour in the words of Scripture, the gift of the sacraments, or even the quiet prayer and praise in all the times of our lives.

     Like Nicodemus, the Samaritan woman could only relate the words of Christ Jesus to the human experience of life.  Remember, when Jesus confronted the inquiring spirit of Nicodemus with the words,  “no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit,”? Nicodemus’ immediate reaction was to plant this reality next to the human experience of being born in blood and flesh.  And to raise a new question.  “How can this be?”

     When Jesus shared with the Samaritan woman, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give will become a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”  Applying this eternal truth against her human experience, she said to Jesus, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”

     In dialogues with both Nicodemus and the Samaritan Woman, the questions raised seem to be left without answers.  But Jesus reveals himself as the answer:  ‘the way the truth and the life’.  ‘The very thing that is just too important not to share.’

     So often, when we confront Christ Jesus with the questions that plague us, it seems that he is silent in our presence, as he reveals himself as our answer:  our way, our truth, our life.  And that reminds us that we are so often asking the wrong question.     President John F. Kennedy in his inauguration speech, said some famous words, “Ask not what your country can do for you.  Ask what you can do for your country.” 

In  the dialogue with the Samaritan woman, we might hear the unspoken words of Jesus, ‘Don’t ask to be given living water.  Rather believe in the Messiah who has come, and receive the living water of the Holy Spirit, by faith in me.’

     Jesus approached her with an intimacy that speaks of friendship, of compassion, of understanding.  How refreshing that must have been for her.  In response to this witness from the source of light and life, this unnamed Samaritan woman returns to her village and witnesses the Good News of the Messiah that they were waiting for.

      It is significant for me that she left her water jar behind.  Far more concerned about the living water that Jesus offered her. And that made all the difference for this remote Samaritan village. After all ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

Because of her witness, pagan and Jew alike came  to Jesus and believed in him. As John writes, ‘Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I ever did.” So when the Samaritans came to Jesus, they urged him to stay with them, and he stayed two days.   ^‍ And because of his words many more became believers. 

 They said to the woman, “We no longer believe just because of what you said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.”’   When important things are shared, we might suspect that no one really cares.  But the Holy Spirit can take the things we share and use them to make a difference.  We may never know the result of the kindness we share, but this woman at the well saw the result.

In our daily lives, we follow the patterns of work and responsibility, of leisure and rest, with maybe even a bit of time for Scripture and prayer.    

But we rarely expect to encounter Jesus, interrupting our routines.  Confronting us with ultimate concerns over life and salvation.  Calling us to be his witness in our small corner of the world.

And yet, God’s Holy Spirit seems to choose the most awkward times to engage us.  Just as Jesus did with the woman at the well.  

It seems so exciting and yet unsettling, when Jesus takes time from his eternal care and kingship over the entire creation, to dialogue with us individually. Through thoughts and intuitions that almost seem foreign to our human nature.  And yet, God in his eternal presence in the world always has us in his sight, and always cares for us. 

This is a mystery that will intrigue us until we are with him in eternity.  Even from his cross, Jesus thought of us.  “Father, forgive them for they don’t know what they are doing!”   and “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.”  Jesus was speaking to every repentant sinner, every faith-filled believer, every inquiring mind, when he spoke these words.

And yet, we shouldn’t be surprised.  In those times when we most need a reassuring word from someone, Jesus speaks to us.  He speaks through the Scriptures, through our intuition, through our quiet moments of prayer, through our friends and family.  He speaks with the same intimacy, friendship, compassion and understanding.    

Jesus has much to teach us in this encounter.  We can come to understand that our witness in this broken world is important.   But it is the Holy Spirit of God, who touches the hearts and minds of people through even our simple witness, and through the word of God, and through sacraments.  That makes all the difference in our lives and our world.  So, it is true that  ‘Some things are just too important not to share.’

May the grace and peace of God, which passes all our human understanding, keep our hearts and minds in the calm assurance of eternal salvation in our living Lord, Christ Jesus.  Amen.

Rev David Thompson.

John 3:1-21

As soon as the today’s text begins with, ‘There was a Pharisee …’ we know where this is going. The Pharisees, a group of very devout and quite legalistic experts in the Hebrew scriptures, are regular foils for Jesus in the Gospels. They always come to him with some sort of flattery, then try to lay a trap for him. We have no reason to expect anything different here. But this Pharisee is different. He really does want an answer to his questions – for personal reasons.

His name is Nicodemus. And he was not just any Pharisee. He was a wealthy and influential man, a highly regarded teacher, and one of the few Pharisees who served on the Jewish ruling council in Jerusalem known as the Sanhedrin.

And he comes to Jesus as night. For this act he is forever known. When John introduces Nicodemus twice more later in his Gospel he is always referred to as the one who came to Jesus at night.

Most of us think we know why he came at night. At night, of course, it is harder to recognise people on the street. There is less chance that Nicodemus’ visit to Jesus will be noted and reported to any of his Pharisee friends or his students. And perhaps this was, in fact, the reason he came by night, or at least part of the reason. But if Nicodemus really wanted to have a serious conversation with Jesus, the evening is when he would have come. Firstly, the crowds would have gone and it would be easier to have a private conversation. And secondly, the Pharisees taught that the evenings were the most appropriate time to have serious conversations about theology when the business of life had dissipated and there was time and space to think. So there might have been a very practical reason for Nicodemus to come at night, to find Jesus at home and away from the crowds. He may also have wanted to indicate to Jesus that this was not a set up or shame discussion to try to trap him, but that he really did want to have a serious conversation with Jesus.

Nicodemus would have come to Jesus at some personal risk to his own reputation. So it would have been more than mere curiosity that brought him to Jesus that night, early in Jesus’ ministry.

It seems clear that Nicodemus had a question. And it was a big one. One that kept him up nights. One that he came to suspect that Jesus might be able to answer.

But what was that question?  Ironically, Nicodemus never gets to ask it. Jesus ‘answers’ him immediately after Nicodemus’ polite greeting and his recognition that Jesus must have come from God because of the many ‘signs’ he was able to perform.

But perhaps Jesus’ answer to Nicodemus, which has become both very famous and also much misunderstood in the history of the Christian Church, suggests what Nicodemus’ question was. Perhaps it was Jesus’ way of showing Nicodemus that he knew already exactly what was on his mind, and in his heart.  We read in Luke 17:20 that the Pharisees asked Jesus, ‘When is the kingdom of God coming?’  They expected, as did most Jews of the day, the coming of a literal, physical kingdom. But this coming had seemed very long delayed. And the Pharisees had come to believe that God would not bring the kingdom until the people all did the right thing – or at least enough of them did the right kind of things. So as a man who had committed his life to teaching about the kingdom of God, and who very much desired to see it come, Nicodemus wanted to know from Jesus – from this man who clearly had been sent by God, just what needed to be done to see the kingdom established. That is most likely the question Nicodemus came to ask Jesus.

But as Jesus often does, he anticipates the question, and takes Nicodemus very quickly beyond it to something deeper and more personal.

Jesus answers Nicodemus: ‘Truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being reborn from above.’ (v. 3).

Jesus has now set the tone of the conversation. Nicodemus most likely wanted to know what the people as a whole needed to do to see the kingdom established. Jesus makes the question very personal. He tells Nicodemus what he (or any other individual) must do if they wish to see the Kingdom of God. And it is not what Nicodemus was expecting. It was not any level of good works, or enough people keeping the law, or even the people taking matters into their own hands and beginning an uprising against Rome – for all of these were common ideas at the time for how to hasten the coming of God’s promised Kingdom and the promised Messiah who would usher in the kingdom.

Jesus instead tells Nicodemus that he must be born again, or reborn from above. The language used is deliberately open to more than one interpretation. The Greek word an-o-then that John uses here could mean ‘born again’ as it came to be initially translated into English. But it could also mean ‘born from above’ which makes good sense in light of the many references to ‘above’ in this text. Or Jesus may well have meant both at the same time, hence the translation I prefer: ‘reborn from above’.

In any event, Nicodemus takes the literal meaning and ends up an impossible image. And this is far from surprising if he has come to Jesus with a question about how to see a literal, physical kingdom of God established on earth. That is where his mind and thinking is at. So taking the more literal option, he ends up with a rather ridiculous image in his mind and asks Jesus how it can be possible that he or any other grown person could enter back into their mother’s womb and be born once more. His almost comical misunderstanding then becomes the foil for Jesus to explain what he means in more detail.

So what do we and Nicodemus learn about what it means to be reborn from above in order to see God’s Kingdom? I think there are three main points to be gleaned from Jesus’ words to Nicodemus about being reborn from above.

First, the experience of rebirth from above is a personal one. It is not about what the whole population must do for God’s kingdom to come, it is about what we must experience in order to be a part of God’s kingdom. In Nicodemus’ age there was a tendency to think more communally. So this may have been a difficult concept for Nicodemus to understand. But for us in the modern world, with our emphasis on individualism, this aspect of Jesus’ teaching on what it means to be reborn from above is easier to understand. Jesus is talking here about a personal and transforming experience of God.

Second, it is a rebirth of both water and spirit. ‘No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of flesh is flesh and what is born of the Spirit is spirit (vv 5-6). There are two meanings here: First, there is physical birth and spiritual rebirth. We do not need only to be physical beings, born and living in the world. We must also be reborn spiritually. But there is also unmistakable baptismal imagery here. While these story pre-dates Christian baptism, we must remember that John is writing for an audience steeped in the practice and symbolism of baptism, in which baptism with both water and the Spirit is one divine action (from above). Jesus is probably, once more, referring to both, indicating two different levels of meaning here.

Finally, the rebirth Jesus is speaking of is ‘from above’. This means it is something that God does, that God initiates. It is not our work. Jesus seeks to explain this to Nicodemus in his illustration of wind (or Spirit of God) blowing where it choses and in ways we cannot predict. This is the point we have most understood. In the recent history of the church the movement of ‘born again-ism’ has arisen based on this text. And it’s emphasis has been on what human beings must do. It has been used to press people to make a decision. But ironically, the text is making the exact opposite point. Not that there is no personal component of a human decision. There clearly is. But the point here is that the experience of being reborn is something that originates from above, that comes through the free and unpredictable movement of God’s Spirit. Being reborn from above is a profoundly human experience. But it is not a human work.

The dialogue with Nicodemus ends and the voice of John the Evangelist comes through, explaining further point being made. And it what would seem clearly to be the voice of the narrator explaining the significance of these words, we find the famous John 3:16, in which John reiterates that the whole action begins with God’s love for the world. We do not hear anything further about Nicodemus in this story.

So what happens to Nicodemus? Does he finally get it?

Well, yes he did. John mentions him again in 7:45-52 when there is plotting again Jesus by the chief priests and Pharisees (apparently at a meeting of the Sandhedrin), and the question is asked if any Pharisee has ever believed in Jesus. Nicodemus cannot remain silent but is not yet able to commit. He argues instead for a ‘fair hearing’ for Jesus, and is intimidated into silence when asked if he too is one of Jesus’ followers. So at that stage, Nicodemus is not yet there.

But then Nicodemus appears again in John 19:39, together with a man named Joseph of Arimathea. They come forward publicly to Pilate to claim Jesus’ body, and to do the anointing rituals and place him in a tomb. With the disciples in hiding, the masses having abandoned him, and everyone assuming his cause is lost with his death, Nicodemus comes forward publicly as a follower of Jesus.

Why then?

Well, I think it had something to do with the famous conversation with Jesus that occurred almost three years earlier. When Nicodemus asks, ‘how can this be?’ or ‘how can this come about?’ referring to being reborn from above through the power of the Spirit, Jesus reminds him of the story of Moses and the bronze serpent in the wilderness. In the same way, Jesus says, when the Son of man is lifted up, whoever believes in him will have eternal life. I think that when Nicodemus saw Jesus lifted up on the cross, he remembered these words – words he had been pondering ever since Jesus had spoken them. He understood at that point exactly what Jesus had been referring to and all doubt in his mind about who Jesus was disappeared. It didn’t matter that Jesus was now dead. Nicodemus came forward publicly as one of his followers.

In the same way, Jesus calls each of us to follow the Spirit’s call upon us, to allow God, from above, to make us new, to be reborn through the waters of baptism. The process might be complex and far from straight-forward, as was the case with Nicodemus. But process and time frames are not important. What is important is whether we, like Nicodemus, in the end open our eyes to the Kingdom of God through the work of God’s free Spirit working in us ‘from above’ to make us his children.

Amen.

Pastor Mark Worthing.
Port Macquarie.