John 3:1-17
Like many of
you, I hunkered down this past Wednesday during our little mid-March blizzard,
cuddled under blankets and a Dachshund while I waited for the storm to pass. I
looked out occasionally to see snow whipping past the window, drifts forming
all around the house, trees shaking with the wind. As I witnessed this famous
western NY wind and snow, from the safety of my nice warm house, I couldn’t
help but think about Nicodemus.
Why
Nicodemus on that blustery, winter day? It was those words Jesus says to
Nicodemus: “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.”
Well, the
wind was certainly blowing where it chose on Wednesday, huh? That much is
clear. But it’s that second part of Jesus’ statement that I have been grappling
with this week: “So it is with everyone who has been born of the Spirit.”
Even if you
didn’t remember the details of this story, the imagery is known all too well –
that is, the image of being “born again,” or born of the Spirit. If you’re like
me, you have been asked by people once or twice if you have been “born again.”
Also if you’re like me, this question makes you very uncomfortable, and you
aren’t quite sure how to answer it. If they mean, “Do I know Jesus,” then yes,
I do. If they mean, “Am I baptized?” then yes. If they mean, “Did I have a
life-changing moment in which I suddenly got myself out of a downward spiral
and came to Jesus and my life has never been the same since,” well, maybe not
so much. One pastor tells a story about sitting in the waiting room while she waited
for some new tires. A man sat beside her and thrust a pamphlet under her nose
and asked if she was born again. She thought for a moment, then answered, “I’m
glad you asked. I’ve been reflecting on Jesus’ words to Nicodemus in John
chapter 3 and I don’t think Jesus means ‘born again’ as if it were some
emotional lightening strike that once it’s over, we speak of our salvation in
the past tense, like, that’s done, now I have that checked off my to-do list. I
think being born again calls for our participation, and I think it’s a life-long
process.” Apparently the man was unimpressed. I wish I could come up with
something so articulate on the spot!
But she’s
right – being “born again” is a
life-long process, and not something that happens just once. Perhaps a shorter
version of her answer is, “Yes, I’m born again, and again, and again, every
single day!” That is what Luther was fond of saying: that we are born again
every time we remember our baptism, which ought to be every day. Ours is a
faith of new beginnings, you see, based on a resurrection story that repeats itself
in many ways in our day-to-day lives.
So, that’s
what it means to be “born again” or
“born anew” or “born from above” in Lutheran terms… but how do we live like that? Here the Nicodemus story
can help us out, as his encounter with Jesus can shed some light on how one is
to live as a “born again” person.
It won’t
surprise you, especially given our focus this Lent on prayer, that I will say that
so much of being born anew has to do with prayer. In fact, being “born again”
is such a very large topic to tackle in a 12-minute sermon, that for today I
will only focus on the prayer aspect of it, and look to Nicodemus as guidance
for how we are to pray like we are born again.
The first
thing we can learn from Nicodemus is how we are to come before the Lord – or
rather, how not. What is the first thing Nicodemus says to Jesus? He tells him
what he already knows, what he has perceived and so can believe. “You must be from
God, because how else would you be able to perform these signs?” he asks. I
think that’s often how I’m inclined to come before God, too: putting right up
front all the things that I know. I often come to prayer with an agenda, and an
expectation (or at least a hope) for a certain answer. But in Nicodemus’ case,
his know-it-all approach serves as a barrier to him understanding Jesus’ words.
He gets stuck in what he knows – for example, that no one can crawl back into
his or her mother’s womb and come back out – and so is quick to dismiss any
other possibility. So he can’t hear about the heavenly things Jesus is really
trying to teach him.
There is a
famous parable from the Buddhist tradition, in which the teacher invites the
student to pour a cup of tea, and to keep pouring until the teacher says to
stop. So the student begins to pour, and soon enough the cup is overflowing and
tea is spilling onto the table and floor. The student says, “The cup cannot
hold any more tea!” and the teacher replies that the same is true for the young
student: his mind is so full that he cannot hold any more. Only when he empties
his mind will he be prepared to hear what the teacher has to say. Jesus might
say the same to Nicodemus, and to all of us, for that matter – “your mind is
too full; you are not prepared to hear what I have to teach you!”
So the first
thing to learn from Nicodemus’ encounter with Jesus is to let go of the control
that knowledge makes us feel we have, and come prepared to hear and to listen
and to learn, rather than with an agenda and an expectation. The second is
related to that, and that is to be prepared that when we encounter God, we
encounter mystery. I don’t think we leave a lot of space in our lives for
mystery. Science helps us to understand so much of our universe, and if it
can’t be explained, it is tempting to simply dismiss it. But God is so much
bigger than what we could ever understand – and that is a good thing! As
frustrating as it may be not to understand God’s mysterious ways, at the end of
the day I need a God who is beyond my understanding, who is beyond anything I
can wrap my head around. And so while our world may tell us to be skeptical of
mystery, it order to hear God and come even close to understanding God’s ways,
we need to be prepared to embrace mystery, and trust that God works
mysteriously, and that that is okay.
The third
observation about prayer that this story brings up is in that line I thought
about during the blizzard: “The wind blows where it chooses!” I had a professor
in seminary who used to warn us to pray with caution, because your prayer might
just be answered affirmatively. He tells a story about when he was in seminary
and a friend of his got really sick. They prayed so hard for him to get better
and be able to finish seminary. When he came back to school he was in a
wheelchair, and needed a lot of help from his friends – even help going to the
bathroom. My professor said (and this is a quote!), “I never thought that the
answer to my prayers would include me wiping my friend’s butt.” But the wind
does blow where it chooses, and you never know what door it is going to slam
shut and what door it’s going to fling open, even out of your grasp. Prayers
are always answered, just not always the way we want or expect them to be.
There are
lots of things we can do to prepare ourselves to be born from above or born
anew again and again. But at the end of the day, the heart of what it means to
be “born again” is letting the Spirit do what the Spirit is going to do, to let
it blow where it chooses, and to let God do what God wants to in the very
depths of our lives. As we trudge through Lent, what God wants to do in the
depths of our lives becomes abundantly clear: God wants to forgive our sins.
God wants to give us and our community the courage to live with joy and purpose
for someone other than ourselves. God wants to gives us peace and assurance of
eternal life. Learning how to receive these gifts is an ongoing process – and
each time we come a little closer to understanding God’s promises and grace for
us, we are born again. Every time we recognize that God so loved the world that
he gave his only Son so that we might have eternal life, we are born again.
Every time we open ourselves to the transforming power of honest prayer, we are
born again. May it be so!
Let
us pray… Heavenly Spirit, you make it
possible for us to be born again and again. Grant us courage to come to you
with open hearts and minds, help us to embrace and not dismiss mystery, and
make us attentive to the unexpected ways you may blow through our lives. In the
name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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