John 3.1-17
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| John La Forge, 1880 |
A 2008 poll taken of teenagers in England found that 23% of the respondents thought Winston Churchill was a fictional character. In the same poll, 58% thought Sherlock Holmes was a real person living at 221B Baker Street. (They’re wrong!)[1]
There are times that I wish Sherlock Holmes were real, but the reality is that he is a figment of our imagination created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the late 1800s. I enjoy reading murder mysteries in the Arthur Conan Doyle or Agatha Christie style or watching television shows like Perry Mason, Matlock or Murder, She Wrote. The week before last, I saw the recent Sherlock Holmes movie starring Robert Downey, Jr. It’s not so new anymore, but I was just getting around to it. There were some surprises for me. I would never have imagined the studious sleuth to be skilled in hand-to-hand combat, as he was in this recent adaptation. But there were things that were consistent with the Sherlock Holmes I imagined in my head like the unbelievable ability to gather information and notice everything around him. That is Holmes’ most important skill, to see what others miss.
In the books, the story line is predictably centered on this ability. The crime occurs, the police and detectives search the crime scene and blame the innocent, until Holmes dramatically reveals the truth. When he does, it is like the final piece is placed into an intricate puzzle. The details that Holmes describes were readily available, even in the printed word, but, for me, they make sense only when the detective carefully details the interrelatedness of each piece. When the truth is revealed, it seems so simple and yet it escaped our understanding. This power of observation is extraordinary and that is why I want Sherlock Holmes to exist or at least be possible. It would be great to be like him: brilliant, insightful, famous, and successful.
Of course being Holmes-like is only a dream. I relate, much more closely, to his sidekick, Dr. Watson. Watson is present through the clue gathering stage, interviews many of the same people, and yet, is totally amazed when Holmes reveals the solution. Then in the next story, he again is startled by Holmes’ genius. He doesn’t quite get it no matter how many times he experiences the deduction abilities of his companion. And he lacks the ability to discern the solution himself.
Nicodemus, from today’s Gospel lesson, seems to be such a follower. In this third chapter of John, we encounter him for the first time as he approaches Jesus because he has experienced Jesus’ miracles and wants to hear his teachings. When Jesus tells him that the kingdom of God is for those born again “from above.” Nicodemus, a learned man of theology, cannot overcome the logical quandary. Just as he knew Jesus through the signs and miracles, he cannot understand rebirth. He asks Jesus, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?" (John 3.4)
How many times do we want to hear logical answers to questions that demand a leap of deductive imagination?
Nicodemus comes literally “in the night” but he is also metaphorically lost in the darkness of his own limitations. He is amazed, but cannot understand why and, therefore, he cannot truly appreciate what Jesus offers.
Jesus tells him that he must give his life to the Spirit, defying logic, knowledge, and control. Jesus tells him to give it to the wind. And Nicodemus wants to know how, why, when, who, and what.
Nicodemus, like Dr. Watson, is amazed but can’t deduce why. He doesn’t know how to trust in God or himself.
What happened to Nicodemus? He heard Jesus tell him that, “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” This is the same inspiring verse that appears on the signs of sports fans and revelers in other large crowds. Jesus told Nicodemus that, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.” Jesus speaks to him in a straightforward way, yet Nicodemus isn’t mentioned again in the Gospel of John until the seventh chapter (John 7.50-51) when he briefly pleas to the Sanhedrin, of which he is a member, for a fair trial for Jesus.
Later, after Jesus’ death on the cross, Nicodemus, again briefly in the 19th chapter (John 19.39), comes to take Jesus’ body to the tomb provided by Joseph of Arimathea. Nicodemus, who we heard came to Jesus under the cover of night to discover what Jesus’ preaching was all about; at the end of the story after Jesus’ death on the cross comes, in the light of day, to take him from the cross and bury him.
Through these fleeting insights into the life of Nicodemus, we can hope that Nicodemus came to trust in God’s Spirit and that his life was born anew.
We find hope because if Nicodemus doesn’t come to know God, how can we? Would I have responded differently than Nicodemus to the questions of Jesus? Could I have understood Jesus without knowing the whole story of the cross and resurrection? Could I have taken a leap of intellect, overcoming my doubts before Jesus was raised on the cross?
Even as a professional minister, someone who is supposed to know “the way,” I still struggle to trust in God. I still ask questions and want proof and have doubts. I speak for myself, but I expect that I am not alone. I find hope in Nicodemus because I am certain that my faith would not be as strong if I knew it without questioning and doubting.
Nicodemus heard Jesus and then we assume followed a new path that went against what was expected of him.
He was not the first and certainly not the last one to be in this position.
We, like Nicodemus, are called to take on new lives “from above” and this new life takes us like the wind to places beyond our knowledge and control. It forces us to face our fears and live our doubts.
Doubt is not unheard of and yet there are so many who wish to hide it.
Nicodemus mirrors our doubts, our questions, and our hopes. And he leads us, if we are willing, to allow the promises of God to touch our own lives, especially in this season of Lent.
Despite our popular pieties, Lent is a time for engaging our new life more deeply, risking new levels of trust. The purpose of Lent is not to dwell on suffering, or to spend 40 days bewailing our manifold sins and wickedness for the sake of feeling the pain. Lent is about engaging in the ongoing process of renewal, regeneration, and new birth, it is about encouraging us to trust, and to risk, going forth and being sent out with the promise of new life.
Lent may require us to “think outside the box” by identifying the breaks with the past that we need to make in order to respond to the promises of God.
Lent demands us to ask questions about ourselves while, at the same time, realizing the gift that God has given us. Just as Nicodemus finally experienced the gift of God at the cross, when he came forward into the light of God as a new person.
As I said in a sermon a couple of weeks ago, as we looked out from the mountaintop of the Transfiguration into the valley of Lent, this is a time between mountaintops. A week and a half ago, we dove into the darkness on Ash Wednesday. Last week, we heard about Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness after his Baptism. This week, we hear of Nicodemus’ logical questions while in the dark of night.
Lent calls us to open our minds to observation and therefore to revelation. Contrary to the majority of people in England, we must know that the deduction abilities of Sherlock Holmes, resulting from casual, yet detailed observations – like noticing a slightly askew hair, a misplaced napkin, or a flittering eye – these abilities are fictional. Seeing something revelatory in our own encounters with the world takes deliberate work and practice. These observations are not at the scene of a crime, they are into our own lives and the choices we make that separate us from God. As we stumble through this season of preparation, we know that there is much work to be done. At the same time, we are often distracted from seeing the true nature of that work. We are overcome by darkness to the point that we can’t see what is right in front of our eyes. Lent is a time to push back the darkness and begin the climb to the light of resurrection. Along the way of the passion, we will experience unbelievable despair at Jesus’ trial and crucifixion, but we will also hold in our heart the words Jesus spoke to Nicodemus that, “the Son of Man was lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” We don’t know about Nicodemus’ journey, but he finally understood the meaning of those words when he came forward, in the light of day, to take Jesus’ body from the cross to the tomb.
It seems so simple, like the conclusions of the Sherlock Holmes books, but self-discernment takes a special leap of faith and a lifetime of doubt to discover a response to God’s promises.
Take advantage of the opportunities here at St. Patrick’s during this season, participate in the liturgy that marks the path set for us (on Sundays and especially during Holy Week), make time to study God’s Word, and continue to discipline skills that hone your ability to discern what is getting in your way. Facing these challenges will strengthen your life in God. And for that, we give thanks.
March 20, 2011
Lent 2A
[1] http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/uknews/1577511/Winston-Churchill-didnt-really-exist-say-teens.html
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