Second Sunday in Lent

John 3:1-17

This week the wilderness we encounter in the Gospel isn’t one of desert sand, rocks, or mountaintops. Instead this wilderness is a place of not knowing or understanding. For many of us, it can be as vulnerable as standing in the elements outdoors, protected neither by knowledge nor ability.

According to the Evangelist, Jesus is in Jerusalem near the time of Passover when the Jewish people remember how God saved them when they were enslaved by Pharaoh. He has chastised the temple authorities for letting the money changers onto the grounds, and now Nicodemus, one of the Pharisees - Jewish leaders who were dedicated to teaching the law - approaches Jesus at night.

We don’t know why Nicodemus arrives in the night. We imagine he chose night because the crowds who had been following Jesus would have dispersed and they might not see them together. But we cannot know his reasons really.

Maybe he had responsibilities that had kept him away until nightfall. Maybe he was embarrassed by his own questions and confusion as he listened to Jesus teach. Or he may have been afraid of being associated with Jesus because of the spectacle he was creating.

Similarly, we don’t know if it’s eight o’clock at night, or closer to midnight, or sometime before dawn. We don’t know whether he finds Jesus sitting outside or goes into a house where Jesus was staying. Does Nicodemus wake him up?

Nicodemus is himself a teacher who calls Jesus “Rabbi” and acknowledges the miracles he has worked. We don’t know if others observe them. Do they whisper, or talk in hushed tones so they won’t disturb anyone who may be nearby?

Imagining these details helps us hear the story anew.

Personally, I wonder which questions drove Nicodemus to find Jesus. We don’t hear the questions he brought with him. Jesus acknowledges his greeting and they start talking about being born from above and the conversation goes from there. Of course, it’s possible Nicodemus didn’t have specific questions that he wanted answered; maybe he just wanted to spend more time with Jesus because he was clearly teaching and healing under God’s authority.

After listening to Jesus, Nicodemus asks, “How can anyone be born after having grown old?” (v.4) Because of what he says next about returning to our mothers’ wombs, we often hear his question as only wondering about the impossibility of physically being born again.

But his question is also about what is possible “after having grown old.”

Certainly, he could have simply been referring to age. The word used here is the same as Sarah uses in Genesis when God speaks to her about the child she will have. (Genesis 18:12) Maybe Nicodemus is simply a realist who wonders about the limits he faces as he ages.

But there’s another way to hear his question. First century society was based on a household system that placed power into the hands of men, and Pharisees were respected for their knowledge and for their leadership. So, “having grown old” meant Nicodemus had not succumbed to illness as a younger man; he was respected and honored; he had wealth. So, Nicodemus had a lot to lose if he followed Jesus. Maybe what he is asking is, “What is this going to cost me?”

It’s a question we hear in the synoptic gospels, too. Speaking to the rich young man, Jesus tells him, “go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me." (Matthew 19:21) And he also tells his followers, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)

Following Jesus is costly. We are asked to empty ourselves, including our ego, our security and our independence, so that we may be filled and used by God.

Jesus continues talking to Nicodemus, drawing comparisons between things of the flesh and things of the Spirit (v. 6) and between earthly and heavenly things (v. 12). And then Jesus describes God’s love for the whole world, saying God’s desire is not separation and condemnation but life with God and salvation.

It’s not clear that Nicodemus ever “gets” it, but he stays and listens to Jesus. He recognizes God’s presence in Him. The Pharisee doesn’t flee from the wilderness of unknowing, retreating to the safety of the familiar; instead he takes a risk, draws near to the divine and trusts Jesus.

Throughout Lent as we explore the wilderness, may we also risk drawing near to Jesus, hearing the invitation to bring our questions and our wonder. May we learn to listen, even when we cannot find neat and tidy answers. Most of all may we know that God loves us with an expansive love that makes room for our unknowing.

Let us pray…
Holy God,
In our wilderness wandering, we lift our eyes to you, thankful for the depth and breadth of your love for us.
Encourage us to seek You any time of day or night, confident that you invite us, as we are, into life with You.
May the wisdom of your Spirit guide us to bring about your kingdom here on earth.
We pray in your Holy name.
Amen.