The Nicodemus In All of Us

John 3:1-21

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. ²He came to Jesus^* by night and said to him, ‘Rabbi, 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.’ ³Jesus answered him, ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.’^{* 4}Nicodemus said to him, ‘How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?’ ⁵Jesus answered, ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. ⁶What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit.^{* 7}Do not be astonished that I said to you, “You^* must be born from above.”^{* 8}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. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.’ ⁹Nicodemus said to him, ‘How can these things be?’ ¹⁰Jesus answered him, ‘Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? 11 ‘Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you^* do not receive our testimony. ¹²If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? ¹³No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man.^{* 14}And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, ¹⁵that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. 16 ‘For 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.17 ‘Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. ¹⁸Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. ¹⁹And this is the judgement, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. ²⁰For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. ²¹But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.’

The Nicodemus In All of Us

It all happened in the shadows, in the darkest time of the night. There was a man named Nicodemus, a Pharisee, a Jewish leader who made sure everyone strictly followed the rules of the Jewish law, made sure everyone followed them to a t. He was a member of the Sanhedrin, the highest council of the Jewish leaders, the Supreme Council who made sure people followed the laws, the council with the power to make arrests and persecute people. Nicodemus was the one who was supposed to find the people who were a threat to the establishment, find them and make sure they were taken down so that they couldn’t be a threat, couldn’t cause a stir, couldn’t cause anyone to think outside the law. And, as we all know so well, Jesus was a threat to that establishment with his new law, new orders to the kingdom.

Nicodemus, as one of the highest priests in the land, wasn’t supposed to be associating with Jesus or his lot. He was the one, after all, with the right answers to all the religious questions. But he was curious. He, like everyone else, had heard the stories about this man named Jesus, heard about the healings and the lessons, heard about his followers and friends. Despite his best efforts not to be, Nicodemus became curious about this Jesus. And so he came to him at night, in the deepest darkest part of it so that no one would see him, came to ask and listen, came to learn. It was certainly a dangerous venture, one that could’ve cost Nicodemus his livelihood, perhaps even his life. But he still came, came in the darkness curious about the light, came ultimately to be transformed into a new life in Christ.

The first exchange was fascinating, with Nicodemus challenging Jesus with questions, and Jesus answering them in his own way designed to make Nicodemus think, to challenge him. Nicodemus said it pretty bluntly, calling correctly calling Jesus “teacher” from the very beginning: “Rabbi, we know you are a teacher from God; no one can do these signs apart from the presence of God.” Instead of saying, “You’re right, Nicodemus,” Jesus instead reminded him that no one could see the kingdom of God without being born from above, born from heaven, born from God. Nicodemus kept his questions going, still standing in the darkness the whole time, not knowing how to come to the light, not knowing how to turn his life upside down to follow Christ.

And Christ answered him, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and the Spirit.” Christ’s response was beautiful as he spoke about God in the world, God who wants to give us life and celebrate with us, God who wants us to come into the light of life instead of living in the darkness, God who is a God of salvation instead of condemnation. Christ’s response was also challenging as he told Nicodemus that being reborn meant being baptized not just by the water that welcomes into the kingdom, but also by the spirit, the spirit who enables and inspires and works through us as we are called to do some pretty hard work in the world. Christ’s message to Nicodemus meant that Nicodemus would not just have to believe, but also go and work in the world—to give up his prestige and wealth and power, to give up his family and his presumptions, to give up all of the material goods he had fought so hard to gain. It meant that he would have to give them away to the poor, the needy, the helpless—and yes, even to the sinful ones upon whose backs he had gained his power and prestige. Christ’s message meant that he would have to turn his world upside down, to come out of the shadows into the light.

Sadly, the text doesn’t give us Nicodemus’ response, but I can imagine the text would tell us if Nicodemus decided to change right then, to leave his life and follow Christ right then, to come out of the darkness. But he didn’t—at least not then, anyway. Perhaps he simply didn’t understand what Christ was telling him. Perhaps he thought he had too much to lose and nothing to gain. Perhaps he didn’t want to give up his job that provided so much wealth and prestige and power. Perhaps he didn’t want to leave his family as Christ demanded of his disciples. Perhaps he wasn’t ready to give up the things that made him comfortable. Perhaps he found it easier to live in the black and white world of condemnation than the very grey world of listening to people’s stories, histories, and experiences. Perhaps the life and the way of Christ challenged him way too much. And Nicodemus slipped quietly back into the shadows of the night, the shadows that hid him away from the world, away from the light of Christ.

Have you ever stopped to think that there just might be a little bit of Nicodemus in every single one of us? Nicodemus was curious about Jesus, wanted to know who he was, curious about all that he had done. He wanted to be a follower, to believe in this man who had come to bring light in the darkness, and we are very much the same way. But Nicodemus came in the night to ask the questions. He had too much to lose, to much power to give up, to much prestige to mess with if he were to truly come out of the dark and follow. And aren’t we the same way?

We have heard the stories, read the gospel, celebrated the resurrection of Christ and the love of God. But don’t we ultimately have too much to give up to truly be followers? We are all Americans, and just by that very blessing, we have much to lose if we truly follow simply because we have so much more than most everyone else in the world. We have power. We have prestige. We have wealth. And what would it truly look like to take Jesus’ message to heart—to give one coat away when we have 2, to leave our families and friends behind to follow, to visit the hungry and naked and sick in prison, to give what we have to make sure each person’s most basic needs for health care and shelter and food are met? What would it look like for us to truly welcome each child as Jesus did, children of different skin colors and religious preferences and nationalities? What would it look like to truly not stand in judgment for once, to realize that each person indeed is a sinner like we are, but most importantly, to look in their eyes to see and treat and love them as a child of God? What would it look like to give up our power and standing in the community to become truly humble, to become one of the least and the last? What would it look like to put down our weapons just as Jesus commanded in the garden—our weapons of words and insults and presumptions, our weapons of fists and guns and bombs—to put them down and truly turn the other cheek? What would it look like for us to model Christ as people who don’t condemn so easily without a second thought?

Simply put, our lives would be turned upside down. We, like Nicodemus, would have to come out of the shadows of the darkness to live new lives as people of the light, as people of Christ. We would have to give up everything we have—everything that we think truly matters, to really gain the truth, to gain everything, to gain the love offered to us by God through Christ. Let’s all admit it. We do have a little bit of Nicodemus in all of us.

Nicodemus went back to his home that night, his home that was probably big and warm and way more than sufficient, because he wasn’t ready to truly come out of the darkness to Christ. But luckily, for his sake and for ours, he wasn’t done with Christ. He may not have been completely ready to come out of the darkness of his world, but he didn’t shut himself off to the possibility. I can imagine that he went on a journey of his own where he prayed a lot, tossed and turned when he should’ve been sleeping, struggled with anxiety, unable to shut his brain down thinking of his encounter with the Lord, yearning for the hope, for the new life, that would come with proclaiming Christ.

You see, there is a bit of Nicodemus in all of us. Nicodemus spent some time in the wilderness, and so are we. Just as he spent some time on a journey of reflection and prayer and wondering, we are doing the same right now during these 40 days of Lent—during this journeying time, we are called to realize the darkness of our world, to spend our time praying and fasting, to spend some nights losing sleep thinking about the heaviness of our lives and the heaviness of the cross, to spend a little time in anxiety as we examine ourselves and our lives, to spend some time thinking about how we are truly baptized by the water that cleanses our brokenness and the Spirit that enables and inspires us to work in the world. We are called to spend some time yearning for the hope that will come in a few weeks when we celebrate and come out of the darkness of the tomb into the light of resurrection and recreation. During our Lenten journey, we are called to ultimately think about the fact that God gives a Son for us because of such great, unfathomable, unexplainable, unconditional love.

There is a bit of Nicodemus’ story in all of us, but luckily—for him and for all of us—thanks be to God, the story of Nicodemus does not end on that night when he first encounters Christ in the shadows of darkness. Listen to more of John’s gospel, from the day of crucifixion:

³⁸After these things, Joseph of Arimathea, who was a disciple of Jesus, though a secret one because of his fear of the Jews, asked Pilate to let him take away the body of Jesus. Pilate gave him permission; so he came and removed his body. ³⁹Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. ⁴⁰They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. ⁴¹Now there was a garden in the place where he was crucified, and in the garden there was a new tomb in which no one had ever been laid. ⁴²And so, because it was the Jewish day of Preparation, and the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.

Nicodemus, who at first had come by night, was there in the day. He was there in the day not just watching everything that had happened, but there in the day, preparing Christ’s body, anointing it and wrapping it up, making it ready for burial. Nicodemus was there in the middle of the day, toiling for everyone to see, risking his life and his livelihood, giving up his life in order to celebrate all the love that Christ had shown to him. He had truly come out of the shadows, come out of the darkness, ready to give up his own life—EVERYTHING—to tell proclaim the love, the life of Christ. Nicodemus went on a journey of his own. Are we ready to do the same?