Into The Wilderness
Beth Tjoflat
Christ Church Redding Ridge – March 20, 2011
Gen 12:1-4a; Ps 121; Romans 4:1-5, 13-17; John 3:1-17
In the name of God, Father Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.
In today’s Gospel we hear once again the story of Nicodemus' encounter with Jesus.
The text includes verses that transfer well to bumper stickers and billboards.
The reading includes John 3:16 – one of the most widely known and repeated verses –
one we often recite as part of the “comfortable words” following confession in our Rite I service (at 8 o’clock) —
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.”
This Gospel lesson presents the idea of being born from above or born again, when Jesus tells Nicodemus ”no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”
Sometimes this text causes us to think of an end time, a time when God will bring us to the kingdom of heaven -- if indeed we have been born again or saved. This kind of reading of the text appeals to the part of us that likes to pin things down, to lock things in, to seal the deal.
But there is much more going on here, and we should consider the text as a whole. Let’s take a look at what makes Nicodemus tick.
One commentator describes him this way: “A successful, self-confident man, he plays
a leadership role in his community. He is spiritually open and curious, yet also rational.”
(Sounds a little Episcopalian, doesn’t he?) Nicodemus “approaches Jesus directly and tries to figure out Jesus’ actions and social networks. He is committed and curious enough that
he makes an appointment to talk with Jesus face to face. However, he is not ready to go public with his interest in Jesus, so he makes the appointment in ‘the middle of the night’
when he can keep his faith secret, separated from the rest of his life.” Jesus catches “his imagination,” but Nicodemus wants to compartmentalize whatever faith he might have in Jesus. He is not ready to declare his faith in the light of day. He is not prepared to let it change his life. Nicodemus, like so many of us, is a little bit of a “control freak.”
After all, he was subject to a lot of the same societal and cultural pressures as we are today.
He was privileged, successful, a “winner” in his society. We too are privileged in so many ways. Even if we find ourselves facing financial struggles or other life challenges, we are still privileged just as Nicodemus was privileged. When we come from a position of relative strength, according to the world’s standards, the idea of offering ourselves to Christ can be a little scary. What might God have in store for us? What might God require of us?
There is a lot at stake –it is only human to worry that we have a lot to lose.
Nicodemus came to Jesus at night, in the dark.
Jesus tells him that no one can see the kingdom of God
without being born from above.
The word that is translated as “from above”
may also be translated as “again” or “anew,”
though “from above” is viewed by many
as the more accurate translation.
To be born again or to be born from above –
These sound like very different concepts.
When we hear the label “born again,”
it conjures something different, something clearer and
perhaps more charged.
In this text Nicodemus shows his
more “literal” side.
He focuses on a very concrete interpretation
when 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?”
Nicodemus gets stuck on a very literal, in fact,
a very physical interpretation of Jesus’ comment.
His interpretation suggests an isolated event,
a single point in time.
If he were able to honor Jesus’ statement in the way
that he hears and understands it,
he would be able to send out birth announcements for himself.
Is it possible for a person to have a very specific time
of spiritual rebirth in Christ –
a time of accepting Jesus as Lord and Savior?
Absolutely.
But I do not think this is what Jesus is trying
to communicate to Nicodemus or to us.
In our Old Testament lesson,
we meet Abram, who responds
very differently than Nicodemus.
God tells Abram to go from his country to the land
God will show him and he will be blessed,
he will be made a great nation.
And so Abram went as the Lord had told him.
For whatever reason, Abram is able to accept what God reveals,
however lacking in detail it may be,
and he honors it with his obedience.
Abram made a decision to trust God and
he is able to take the next indicated step.
He leaves his home and travels to a new land with
nothing more to go on than God’s word.
Abram’s faithfulness is daunting.
We may wonder whether we would have
responded as he did.
On the other hand, in Nicodemus
we find a man who perhaps is
a little easier to understand.
Nicodemus meets Jesus face to face and seeks his counsel.
But when he receives it, he must analyze it.
He must pick it apart and question it.
Ironically, in this spirit of inquiry,
rather than consider the variety of meanings
for “being born from above,”
Nicodemus gets stuck on what to him
is the only possible meaning—
the idea of being physically born --
and he can’t get past this.
It is not hard to imagine how this can happen.
Haven’t we been in conversations where
someone says something we find
surprising or jarring in some way?
They keep talking, moving on in the conversation,
but we get stuck.
We can’t hear anything else they have to say
because we’re stuck on that thing that confuses
or bothers us.
This is where Nicodemus is.
He is unable to get past the nonsensical idea of
a grown-up entering the womb again so that
he cannot hear when Jesus speaks to him of the wind,
when he speaks to him of the nature of the Holy Spirit:
“The wind blows where it chooses,
and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know
where it comes from or where it goes.”
The Holy Spirit is not something we can
capture or track on radar.
Yesterday I watched an iReporter video that
made me think of the Holy Spirit and
our unconscious desire to tame it, at least a little bit.
The story was about “Walldogs” – a dying breed of
men who scale extremely tall buildings
to paint advertising murals.
In Los Angeles it is illegal to put large billboards
on the sides of buildings,
but hand-painted advertisements are allowed,
because they are viewed as fine art murals.
If you’ve seen many of these in LA, you will know that
this classification is not too much of a stretch.
The mural that these guys were working on was 200 feet high.
As they lowered their scaffolding further and further
down the side of building,
they used anchor lines in an attempt
to hold the scaffolding cables steady.
Without this, when the Santa Anna winds gust --
frequently as much as 50 mph –
the scaffolding would be tossed about like a sail.
Without using special chords to hold the cables steady,
the image they planned to paint
and the one they would end up with
would be quite different.
Some days the wind was so unpredictable that
they would have to put the scaffolding away --
locking it down securely on the roof --
and call it a day.
I think it is safe to say that there is a little bit
of a “walldog” in Nicodemus.
Nobody could say that he lacks courage,
but he also wants a full risk analysis before he will step out
and commit fully to his relationship with Jesus.
We meet him again at the end of the Book of John,
just after the crucifixion.
He and Joseph of Arimethea have carried
Jesus’ body to the tomb.
Nicodemus has brought along 100 pounds of
myrrh and aloes to prepare the body.
We cannot tell from the text how much Nicodemus
has advanced in his relationship with Christ.
What matters is that he returns again and again.
It is safe to say that in those acts of returning,
Nicodemus has become willing to risk
a great deal to follow Jesus.
Step by step he has begun to venture into the wilderness,
he has become open to the wind of the Holy Spirit.
When my seminary class was on pilgrimage
in Canterbury earlier this month,
I found my favorite part of the experience to be
the Ash Wednesday Evensong in the Cathedral.
At the end of the service, candles were passed out and
the large congregation in attendance
followed the clergy and choir down the great steps,
and into the nave for a Litany procession,
symbolizing Christ’s journey into the wilderness.
The vocal arrangement, sung responsively
by a cantor and the men and boys’ choir,
was what my friend Rainey calls “edgy.”
As we followed the footsteps of Christ,
as we processed throughout the nave,
I was affirmed in whatever anxiety
I may have been feeling about this time of transition.
It can be a comfort to be reminded that the
“wilderness” is a place to which we are all called.
Entering the wilderness is not about
perfect courage or great faith.
What matters is that we become willing
to return again and again.
Wilderness is a place of blessing.
A place where we are sure to feel a bit untethered,
But, if we are patient, we will find that our help
comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.
I learned that this Litany setting was composed by Alan Ridout.
He wrote the music as he sat at the bedside of his dying mother,
In hindsight, it became clear that the depth of emotions
evoked by the music most surely was informed
by the deepest emotions of his journey
as he entered a phase of life without
his mother’s physical presence,
a life transition that is its own kind of wilderness.
The last section of the Litany prayer includes these words:
“Give us true repentance…
And grant us the grace of your Holy Spirit to amend
our lives according to your holy word.”
True repentance is something we strive for
as we offer our confession,
especially during this Lenten season.
But what does it mean to amend our lives
with the grace of the Holy Spirit?
Rather than getting stuck on an expectation
of what we think we should be
(be kinder to my parents/spouse/coworkers etc),
what if, rather than getting stuck on our best ideas,
we were to set aside 5 or 10 minutes each day
to sit in the presence of God?
To give up our resistance,
if only for those few moments,
and to invite the Holy Spirit to blow where it will in our lives.
What if for just those few moments we were to
allow ourselves to be in the wilderness?
We may find ourselves deeply troubled
by the tragedy in Japan, or the violence and
unrest in Libya, Yemen and the Middle East.
Perhaps our personal or work lives feel like wilderness to us.
Whatever is on our hearts on any given day,
what if we were to take a few moments to lift this up,
to present it to God and
to allow ourselves to be in the wilderness with Christ?
Like Nicodemus, if we are willing to return again and again,
we will find the love of Christ growing in our hearts.
May we each have a holy and blessed Lent.
AMEN
| 
| 
Share
