Two Rivers Pastoral Charge
Sunday March 8, 2020
Scripture:
John 3:1-17
Have you ever traveled
to a place where you don’t speak or understand the language that is
spoken? It is a disconcerting experience
to be surrounded by words and language and not to be able to understand a
single thing that is being said, and to not be able to make yourself understood.
I remember when I
first moved to Tanzania, where the national language is Swahili, we as
volunteers were given two weeks of language training before being sent out to
our placements – mostly to make sure that we wouldn’t starve or insult our
neighbours too badly. And two weeks
later, there I was in rural Tanzania equipped with my introductory Swahili
lessons, immersed in a rural community where I was surrounded not only by
Swahili but also by the local tribal language of LuHaya. I still remember those first few weeks –
surrounded by words that I couldn’t make any sense of. After a bit, I came to realize that if I was able
to pick out an occasional word, the person was probably speaking Swahili,
whereas if I couldn’t catch any words at all, the person was probably speaking
LuHaya.
As the weeks and
months passed, and I used the language more and more, my vocabulary and
understanding started to improve. There
was a long stretch of time where I described my fluency as having pockets of
language – I had my pocket of hospital and physiotherapy vocabulary; I had my
pocket of church vocabulary; I had my pocket of shopping and market
vocabulary. As long as I was in one of
these contexts I could manage, but as soon as someone started talking about
something else I was lost.
Six months in, we were
offered two more weeks of intermediate language training where we learned the
rest of the grammar; and it was probably somewhere between the year and a half
and two year point that I really started to feel comfortable understanding and
using the language.
But I still remember
the chaos and confusion of those first few weeks and months. I remember the frustration of the
neighbourhood children when I just couldn’t understand what they were
asking. I remember the fear that I felt
when I had to make a phone call to make a reservation at the guest house in
town. Are they going to understand what
I am asking? Will I actually have a room
when I get to town? I remember sitting
in church with the sermon and the prayers washing over me, not able to
understand a single thing.
And if I had left at
that point in time, if I had succumbed to the confusion and walked away, if I
had stopped engaging with people and insisted on speaking only English, then I
still wouldn’t understand or speak Swahili.
It was only by plunging in to the confusion, living with the lack of
understanding, embracing the chaos, that I was eventually able to understand.
Nicodemus, in this
week’s scripture story, is also confused – he just doesn’t understand. He is one of the Pharisees, a leader of the
Jewish people. This story takes place in
Jerusalem. Jesus and his disciples have
come to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover at the temple there; but while they
are at the temple, Jesus has caused a bit of a commotion when he made a whip
out of some cords, overturned the tables of the money changers, and drove the
animals that were intended for sacrifice out of the temple.
So, as you can
imagine, the temple leaders, including Nicodemus, probably weren’t very happy
with Jesus at this point in time. But
Nicodemus seems to be curious about Jesus – curious enough that he comes to
Jesus to ask some questions. But he
comes to the place where Jesus is staying at night-time, under the cover of
darkness. Maybe he doesn’t want his
companions at the temple to see where he is going; or maybe the literal
darkness outside represents the fact that Nicodemus is figuratively “in the
dark” about who Jesus is.
He is curious though,
and he opens the dialogue by praising Jesus – “Rabbi, Teacher, we know that you
are a teacher who has come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do
apart from the presence of God.” Jesus
replies with a statement that seems designed to confuse rather than clarify –
“No one can see the kingdom of God without being born anew.” And so Nicodemus, confused, asks Jesus to
explain. “How can anyone be born after
having grown old?”
And Jesus again seems
to confuse Nicodemus even more, instead of offering clarity – talking about
being born of water and Spirit, and the wind or Spirit blowing where she
chooses. Finally, in verse 9 we hear
Nicodemus for the last time, still confused, asking Jesus “How can these things
be?” And then our dialogue turns to a
monologue with Jesus teaching about eternal life. It is almost as if they are speaking two
different languages, neither one being able to understand what the other is
saying.
Nicodemus just fades
out of the scene. We don’t hear any more
from him, we aren’t told whether or not he has left the room, we don’t know if
he starts to understand what Jesus is saying or whether he is still confused –
it almost feels like he slipped out the door while Jesus was still talking.
Now the primary focus
of John’s gospel is discipleship. If you
flip ahead to the end of John’s gospel, you will read, “These are written so that
you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that
through believing you may have life in his name.” And so as you read the stories that the
narrator is telling, it is always interesting to ask, “What does this story
tell me about being a follower of Jesus?”
And on the surface, if
I were to read this story of Nicodemus, I would probably have to say that he
isn’t a follower of Jesus. He comes to
Jesus in secrecy, at night; he asks questions of Jesus; and then he just seems
to slip away, back into the night, still in the dark.
But fortunately, this
isn’t the last that we hear from Nicodemus in John’s gospel. His story doesn’t end here.
If we were to flip
ahead from Chapter 3 to the end of Chapter 7, Nicodemus makes another appearance. The authorities are trying to figure out to
do with Jesus, who keeps on kicking up a commotion and challenging the
authority of those in charge. They talk
of arresting Jesus, but our friend Nick stands up for Jesus. Nicodemus says, “Our law does not judge
people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are
doing.” Hmmm… Maybe what Jesus has been
saying has had an influence on Nicodemus after all.
And we get to see
Nicodemus one more time. At the end of
Chapter 19 of John’s gospel, after Jesus has been tortured, after Jesus has
been crucified, after Jesus has died; Joseph of Arimathea asks permission to
take his body away to be buried. And
when he does so, he is joined by another person – Nicodemus. Nick shows up for Jesus in the end, bringing
a hundred pounds of burial spices – myrrh and aloe – to help prepare Jesus’
body for burial. Together, Joseph and
Nicodemus wrap Jesus’ body along with the spices in linen cloths, and place it
in a tomb in a garden. There, at the
very end, Nicodemus serves Jesus with love.
And so, in the end, it
seems as though Nicodemus was able to wade through the chaos and confusion in
order to become a follower of Jesus. He
was willing to take that first step into the shadowy chaos; he was willing to
become even more confused, in order to reach clarity on the other side.
And so this week, I
encourage you to be like Nicodemus. Is
there a faith step that you’ve been considering taking, but have been too
afraid? Do you feel yourself called by
God to do something new or different, but that something seems too overwhelming
and chaotic and scary? I encourage you
to take a page from Nicodemus’ book and step into the chaos. Ask Jesus your questions. Don’t be afraid of the confusion.
And trust that Jesus
is there somewhere in the chaos, that Jesus hears your questions; and trust
that the shadowy confusion will eventually clear until you find the clarity
you’re looking for.
For God is everywhere,
yes, in the places we expect, but especially in the surprising places, the
unexpected places, the chaotic places. And
God is just waiting to welcome us home to love.
Thanks be to God.
Some of the kids who struggled to make themselves understood
when I moved to Tanzania;
but a smile is a universal language!
