HARD CONCEPTS

From time to time you come across statements which make you think twice. You sort of know what the speaker is getting at, but the way something is phrased can make it seem obscure. Politicians are among the best at this sort of speech.

Edwina Curry is reported as saying

‘There’s no smoke without mud being thrown around.’

Ian Paisley apparently announced

‘We are not going to stand idly by and be murdered in our beds.’

While a Trade Union Leader reported that management

‘stabbed us in the back by blowing the talks out of the water before they ever got off the ground.’

And we have to have one from John Prescott:

‘The green belt is a Labour achievement and we have to build on it.

St John the Evangelist isn’t so much a biographer as a theologian. Each incident that he recounts of Jesus’ life and ministry is told with a definite theological purpose. That makes incidents such as the one recorded in today’s Gospel reading, rather dense and difficult to understand. They don’t make for an easy read, but they do repay study by the riches which lie within.

Nicodemus, we are told, is an important man, a scholar, a theologian, a religious leader. He pays Jesus a visit, obviously fascinated by the man he’s heard so much about. He knows that Jesus is a teacher, a worker of miracles and believes him to be a man of God. Nevertheless he visits him at night, a peaceful time for religious conversation, but also a time when his visit is less likely to be noticed, for already Jesus was causing grave disquiet among the religious authorities and there were those who wished to put an end to his ministry. The coming at night is also symbolic, this is John writing, remember. Nicodemus comes out of the darkness into the light of Christ’s presence.

Now he’s an important man, and perhaps there’s a touch of condescension in his approach to Jesus and a case of wanting to have his cake and eat it. He enjoys being a Pharisee, a religious teacher, an important figure. Coming at night, quietly to Jesus reduces the risk of denting that reputation. And he perhaps believes that he’s being very magnanimous in going to this young man, this itinerant teacher who so many characterised a rabble-rouser. But at once he’s caught up in a tough theological discussion. Jesus uses his remarks and questions as a way of opening up a discussion about the very nature of faith and salvation.

In answer to Nicodemus’ opening words Jesus replies with a paradox, an elliptical statement which Nicodemus fails to understand. In the Greek, the word for born again also means to be born from above. Nicodemus grasps at the first meaning, needing to be born again. His reply might show misunderstanding or perhaps ridicule, but he grasps at this meaning because of the unique nature of Jewish identity. Jews take their privileged identity from the fact of their having been born of a Jewish woman. It’s a hereditary privilege. So not only is it impossible to return to the womb to be born again, but what would be the point? How could there possibly be a greater honour than to have been born a Jew? But Jesus is telling him that there is a much greater privilege, that being born not of the flesh but of the spirit, the whole of humanity become children not of a human mother but of God. They are no longer simply children of Israel, but children of heaven.

Nicodemus is totally thrown by this whole idea. Like many if not most of the people who came into contact with Jesus, it was the miracles and the healings which attracted him. In them he saw God’s hand at work, so the man accomplishing them must be very special in God’s sight. But he’d totally missed the point. Jesus wasn’t able to accomplish the miracles and healings because of special powers given by God, he could do such things because he is God. Nicodemus, like so many others has to move on from trusting in the signs to a true faith that trusts in Christ himself.

And even harder to comprehend, that faith is itself God given, we don’t earn it we receive it. The Protestant reformers set great store by humanity not gaining salvation by works, but too easily slid into the equal error that faith can be gained by an act of will. If I just believe enough, as though sheer hard work and effort can bring that about. Only this week I heard a fellow clergy person speak of the people he had brought to faith. Wrong, we don’t bring people to faith, God does.

Here Jesus makes it clear that it is the act of the Holy Spirit which brings about faith. The metaphor of the Holy Spirit as wind should remind us that we are not talking about a gentle, tameable phenomenon. Wind can be a gentle breeze, but it can also be of violent and terrifying power. It is impossible to control, it blows where it chooses, we have to accept it, work with it, and when it gets too fierce, batten down the hatches and ride out the storm. I’m reminded of the Narnia stories and the children being told that Aslan is not a tame lion.

Nicodemus finds this teaching difficult to comprehend ‘How can these things be?’ Jesus’ slightly exasperated reply is indicative that throughout his ministry he came across people steeped in the Hebrew scriptures, in the words of the prophets who failed to understand their fulfilment in his ministry. It’s a warning that all the studying in the world will not necessarily bring about true wisdom.

The symbolism of water and spirit is found in Ezekiel for instance.

‘I will sprinkle clean water upon you and you shall be cleansed from all your uncleanliness and from all your idols I will cleanse you. A new heart I will give you and a new spirit I will put within you and I will remove from your body the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.’

Time and time again the theme is of God’s action on our hearts, God’s working within us, God’s cleansing and healing touch.

The reference to Moses is to try to help Nicodemus locate Jesus within the covenant history of Israel. In the incident to which he refers the rebellious children of Israel are punished by a plague of snakes. They are saved by looking at a representation of a snake held high on a pole by Moses. In this way Yahweh saved the lives of the people. Jesus by being raised up, on a cross, through resurrection and by ascension brings healing and salvation to humanity. The ascent of humanity to heaven is through the descent to earth of God’s son. His ascension to heaven comes after his ascension to the cross.

So right here, at the start of John’s Gospel we come face to face with the paradox of Jesus’ ministry, that the work of salvation, the fulfilment of the law and the prophets comes about through the giving up to the cross. It comes about through powerlessness, just as our birth as children of God comes about through our surrendering ourselves to the power of the spirit.

Nicodemus was a powerful man, its no wonder that this teaching should have left him perplexed. It leaves us perplexed today. Would we have been drawn to Jesus through faith in him or, like Nicodemus through the proof of his working of miracles and healing. We, like Nicodemus, prefer to be in control. There’s a very human desire to work for our own salvation whether through good works or through the cultivation of faith.

Now I’m not suggesting that we shouldn’t act on our faith. We are called to grow into the likeness and image of Christ, to work tirelessly for the Kingdom. Jean Vanier, founder of the L’Arche communities suggests ‘God intervenes in our lives precisely when we open up and let God show us the way. It is into the place of our poverty and insecurity that God comes. It is when we do not know what to do and ask God for light that God gives light.’ But he also warns that we need other people, the fellowship of other Christians to help us to discern what God is saying, how God is working in our lives. That’s what’s so important about belonging to a church family, or to a house group, or having close Christian friends to whom we can talk and with whom we can explore our faith.

The final verses of the gospel are among some of the best known and the best loved in the scriptures

‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.’

That would be a shock to a good Jewish scholar like Nicodemus, because it’s inclusive, it’s not just Israel that is being saved, it’s the whole world. And it’s a shock to some Christians also because it’s not just the church that’s being saved but the whole world. Our God is an inclusive God who desires for the whole of creation to be reconciled to Godself. God’s love extends far beyond any boundaries which we might like to make. God’s love encompasses the whole of the world, just as God’s spirit moves where she chooses.

And just what is this eternal life? John uses a series of metaphors to paint a picture. It’s available now, the Kingdom of God is at hand. It’s the opposite of darkness and judgement. It’s like a spring of running water, a harvest of grain, imperishable food. It’s the way, the truth; the light. It’s life-giving, life-affirming. And it is pure gift. God’s gift of love.

Rev. Penny Sayer

Curate, St John the Evangelist, Pevensey Rd, St Leonards on Sea