(Scriptures: Genesis 12:1-4 Romans 4:1-17 John 3:1-17)
This morning’s Scripture readings tell us of two men, Abram and Nicodemus. While they’re separated by centuries of time, they are united in the journey of faith in which they are engaged. Both men journey from places of security and familiarity into the unknown. Perhaps most important, both men’s journeys are not something they thought up, but are made in response to God’s call.
Our reading from Genesis comes just after the account of God’s confusing the language of the people who had been building the tower of Babel. The first eleven chapters of Genesis are an account of humankind, created in the image of God, disobeying God in the garden by seeking to be godlike themselves by knowing good and evil – and after their expulsion from the garden, they mostly came to know evil, as they went from bad to worse, to the point where it is said of humans that “every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually.” By Genesis chapter 11, humanity seems to have seems to have run itself into a blind alley – after their language was confused and they left off building the tower and were scattered, the reader is left saying to him- or herself – what now?
Immediately after the account of the failure of the effort to build the tower and the scattering abroad of the human race, Genesis gives us….a geneology – Shem became the father of Arpachshad, who became the father of Shelah - or in the King James Bible, a list of begats – Shem begat Arpachshad begat Shelah, and so forth. If you’re like me, when you see a geneology, or a list of begats, your eyes may glaze over and you may skip to the end of the list. But this geneology forms a bridge that brings us to Abram and his wife Sarai. At first, this geneology, like the bridge in Alaska of which we heard so much a few years ago, looks like a bridge to nowhere, as we’re told Sarai is barren. It seems that the geneology begins with Shem only to end with Abram and Sarai. It would seem that Abram and Sarai, in their barrenness and advancing age, represent the end of the line – literally the end of the line of Shem, and figuratively the end of the line for God’s dealings with humanity. But what seems like an end is instead a new beginning, as God keeps bringing life out of death, making a way out of no way. Genesis chapter 12 takes us into the beginnings of God’s call to Abram. God promises Abram, whose wife Sarai was to that point unable to have children, that Abram will become a great nation. But along with the promise came a call: Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. Abram was asked to leave what was familiar, what was secure – but what was certain to end in the his family line dying out with his own death – and set out for the unknown, to set out for a land that he had not seen, with only God’s promise to sustain him.
In John’s Gospel, we watch Nicodemus begin a spiritual pilgrimage. We’re told that Nicodemus was a Pharisee, a religious leader – in Jesus’ words, “a teacher of Israel.” Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night – and this has several layers of meaning. He doesn’t want others to see him approaching Jesus, lest he be discredited. But also the darkness may also represent the state of Nicodemus’ mind – being only to see and understand Jesus only in part, fumbling in the darkness, groping for greater understanding. (I’ll mention that immediately following Nicodemus’ midnight encounter with Jesus, John writes about Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well at high noon, in broad daylight – it’s our Gospel reading for next week – and while it takes some effort for the woman and Jesus to get onto the same page, ultimately her mind is wide open to the truth Jesus offers. So in John’s telling, night and day are not only literal, but spiritual.) Nicodemus begins by referring to the signs that Jesus had done: “Rabbi, we know 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.” Nicodemus’ words reveal that his understanding of Jesus, and that of those others of Nicodemus’ community who know Jesus is a teacher sent by God, is based primarily on Jesus’ miracles. Jesus’ response seems to be a non-sequitur – he says that “nobody can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” The greek word “anothen” in this context can mean born again or born from above. It’s notable that, in Jesus’ metaphor, inclusion in the kingdom of God is on God’s initiative, not human initiative – people cannot will themselves to be born from above, any more than a baby can will itself to be born. Jesus is trying to lead Nicodemus from his partial faith, based on signs and cloaked in darkness, to understand that the kingdom of which Jesus speaks comes from God’s actions. The conversation with Jesus appears, at least initially, only to puzzle and confuse Nicodemus – Nicodemus starts out by telling Jesus, “we” – Nicodemus and his followers – “know you are a teacher sent by God.” Jesus responds by saying that “We” – Jesus and his disciples – “speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen, but you” – Nicodemus and your followers – “do not receive it.”
As I said, this conversation begins a spiritual journey for Nicodemus. Like the spiritual journey of Abram, the beginnings do not look promising – Abram’s wife is barren, and it also appears that Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus had been barren, for they appear to spend their time together talking past each other, never really connecting. And yet, for Nicodemus, something happened to him in that conversation. Nicodemus recurs two other times in John’s Gospel. In John 7, when the religious leaders are considering arresting Jesus, Nicodemus speaks out in Jesus’ defense – though in a cautious way, appealing to the need to follow correct legal procedure, what we would call due process, rather than acknowledging his own faith in Jesus. And after Jesus’ crucifixion, Nicodemus at last openly came, with Joseph of Arimithea, to claim the crucified body of Jesus for burial, perhaps finally acknowledging Jesus and claiming Jesus for his own. Nicodemus’ nighttime conversation with Jesus began a journey that led him to the foot of the cross of Jesus. Beneath the cross of Jesus, after everyone had gone home from the crucifixion, Nicodemus, along with Joseph of Arimathea, finally took their stand.
How about us? Our faith in Christ is also a pilgrimage, a journey. It may not seem that way. Much popular religion seems to depict faith in Christ not as a journey, but rather as a refusal to journey, as staying in one place, standing on the promises of God, being steadfast, immovable. And when the world tries to knock us off balance, tries to enlist us in its wanderings, we need to say “no”, need to be steadfast. But when, in the words of our hymn, Jesus still leads on, to dig in our heels and refuse to budge from where we are is a not a demonstration of faith, but a rejection of faith. Think how different our lives, our world would be if Abram had said to God, “I like it where I am. I’m not budging.” Imagine how different our faith would be if, after Jesus had begun expounding the mysteries of the Kingdom, Nicodemus had folded his arms across his chest and responded, “well, you and your followers may allow yourselves to be blown about in the wind, but we know what we know; that’s our story – that’s our faith story - and we’re sticking to it.”
For, in truth, the story of our faith is ultimately not Abram’s story or Nicodemus’ story, not their story for them to shape or change – ultimately the story of our faith is God’s story, in which God is gracious to allow us to have a part. And the story of faith, the journey of faith, continues. We quote John chapter 3, verse 16 most Sundays during the assurance of pardon: “God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begotten son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” The entire Gospel can be summed up in this one verse. But the word “loved” – past tense – may lead us to look on God’s love as being “past tense”- a thing of the past. Now, the death and resurrection of Jesus is indeed a past event – Christ died and rose once for all. But the saving love of the risen Christ continues to this day. God’s love continues to this day. The movement of the Spirit continues to this day. It’s not just “God so loved” – yesterday, a bunch of folks in the middle east wearing funny robes way back then – but “God so loves” – today, this hour, this minute, you, me, all of us here, God so loves each of us, that as we are born from above by the movement of the Spirit, God graciously writes each of us into the story of salvation, includes each of us on the roll call of those Christ died to save, invites each of us forward on the journey of faith.
God so loved – you, and you, and you, and me – that he gave his only Son. God so loves you and you and you and me that the presence of his Spirit continues to lead us on. God so loves – all them out there – that he has sent us to proclaim the Good News. Jesus, still lead on. Guide us by your hand, to the promised land. Amen.
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Please join us for worship on Sundays at 10 am at Emanuel United Church of Christ. We're on Fillmore Street (off Thompson). www.emanuelphila.org
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
God So Loves
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