| Sermon for the Second Sunday of Lent |
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Charlie Barton Saint James Monkton Lent 2 24 February, 2002 John 3: 1-17 Who was Nicodemus, and why should we care about a man who died two thousand years ago? Nicodemus was a member of the Sanhedrin - the supreme Jewish council of seventy-one members. This council had legislative and executive powers as well as judiciary functions. In Jesus' day, under Roman procuratorial government, the Sanhedrin had a very large say in the internal government of the province. The Sanhedrin's judiciary authority, in particular, is often mentioned in the New Testament. The Sanhedrin also carried the responsibility of collecting certain tolls and taxes that would go into the imperial treasury. The publicans, or tax collectors, brought their funds to the Sanhedrin. Thus religion and riches, power and politics were all part of the currency of the Sanhedrin, and their commerce was with Jews and with the Romans. Nicodemus was a Pharisee. This is an important distinction. The Sanhedrin was made up of members of the local aristocracy and leading scribes or learned lawyers. The tension between the Saducees, who came from the nobility, and the lawyers, who were predominately Pharisees often lead to stormy debates. It was a frequent occurrence for Pharisees to moderate and balance the more severe approach of the Saducees. At a later point in John's Gospel it is Nicodemus who convinces the assembly not to condemn Jesus without at least hearing what the man himself has to say. But Nicodemus was not the High Priest. His authority only extended so far. The High Priest was the president and convener of the Sanhedrin, who could convene the council in his home at a moment's notice. The High Priests came from the ranks of the Saducees, but it was the Roman Procurator who appointed, or deposed, the High Priests. Thus power was concentrated into a small number of noble families, and seventy-one men held the fate of many in their hands. Nicodeus was a teacher. In fact the Greek text uses the definite article - Nicodemus was "the" teacher of Israel. As a Pharisee, Nicodemus should have had a burning interest in, and knowledge about, the coming Kingdom. But in today's Gospel reading, he is in the dark - literally. It is an ironic portrayal. Nicodemus is coming to see Jesus, seeking illumination, but he comes after all the light has drained from the sky. Anonymous, and wrapped in darkness, "The" teacher of Israel comes to speak to the light of the world but Nicodemus cannot get his own eyes to open.
Nicodemus knows that something is up. Just listen to his statement. The truth is right in front of him, but Nicodemus cannot fully perceive either its proximity or its full proportions. It is like when we tilt our heads back under the summer sun, with our eyes shut. The warmth on our face cannot be explained away, and yet there is no clear image before our eyes to support what we are undeniably feeling. Nicodemus' frame of reference will not fit this man Jesus, and yet Nicodemus is not quite ready to give up the world as he knows it. He is not yet willing to open his eyes to a radically different vision. So he cannot see the larger picture that lies outside the frame of his current understanding. Like so many of us, Nicodemus is trying to explain something entirely new by using old categories - he is trying to walk forward into a new land while facing backwards. One cannot explain spiritual realities with literal, concrete words and concepts. Jesus speaks in analogies hoping to give Nicodemus a metaphorical handle with which to grasp the notion of a startlingly different way of being in the world. In Greek the key words have double meanings. They can be taken spiritually or literally. Nicodemus always stays firmly planted on the ground of his current knowledge and thereby misses the heavenly implications. Jesus says, "you must be born again (or from above). And Nicodemus asks "How can anyone be born after having grown old?" Nicodemus cannot apprehend the image of God acting as a spiritual midwife who delivers us from the safety and enclosure of our own understanding into a brand new light-filled world. Physical birth is a radical change. Spiritual awakening is a radical change. But such illumination has nothing to do with re-entering the womb. It has everything to do with entering into God's kingdom with one's eyes open. We have no control over either event. It is the spirit who gives us life in our mother's womb. It is the spirit who awakens us to a new way of living no matter what our age may be. Nicodemus feels the warmth of God's nearness but cannot see the light, so Jesus speaks of the wind. It is again a word of double meaning -wind OR spirit. Surely Nicodemus has felt the wind in his hair and knows that it is real. Surely Nicodemus knows that the wind is unpredictable and not under anyone's control. Perhaps Nicodemus can then by analogylearn to sense and see the action of God in his life and times, even in surprising and unexpected events. But Nicodemus' mystified answer is,"How can these things be?" .
Jesus knows. He is trying to tell Nicodemus who can not grasp even the earthy analogies. Nicodemus was a wealthy Pharisee, a member of the Sanhedrin,. It was that governing council that eventually handed Jesus over to Pilate and asked for Jesus' death. When Joseph of Aramathea asked Pilate for permission to remove Jesus' body from the cross, only one other man went with him. For a faithful Jew that was exposing oneself to spiritual pollution, social approbation, and political suicide. Joseph of Aramathea went anyway. The man by Joseph's side was Nicodemus, the Pharisee, who came with a hundred pounds of burial spice - a small fortune - to lay his hands on Jesus. Nicodemus came with his eyes wide open and I imagine that he walked towards a new life even as he drew near to the tomb. Jesus spoke to shepherds, the people at the bottom of the heap. Jesus spoke to members of the Sanhedrin, the nobles, the people of power and wealth. Jesus speaks to you and me, with care for each person and no concern as to our station in life. God so loved the world that he gave his only son that we might all be saved. Twenty centuries after Nicodemus we still neither understand nor control the weather. Most of us accept this. Can we not also accept that the spirit still goes where it chooses? Perhaps the wind is in our hair even now. Perhaps the warmth we feel from time to time is the power of the son beaming right in front of us. Can we admit that God may be working in our lives -working on us through experiences that we cannot yet fully articulate or apprehend?
We are not condemned in our ignorance. We are beloved.
We are not abandoned even if we feel that by our actions
Even in the dead of night, the light of the world shines and calls us forth. |