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Sermon by Claire Tenny, OSH


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The Rev. Dr. Claire Tenny, OSH
The Rev. Dr. Claire Tenny, OSH, in gold cope,
at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine

Lent II, Year A
John 3:1-17

Preached by The Rev. Dr. Claire Tenny, OSH on Sunday February 17, 2008 at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, New York, NY

In medicine, or any scientific field for that matter, there is a specific way of interpreting the literature, evaluating the claims of the authors. The first clue is the journal itself. Some publications have rigorous peer review processes and only accept publications of well designed studies about substantive matters.

At the other extreme are the so called throw away journals that are sent at no charge to physicians-often authors are paid for their contributions. Conflicting interests such as employment by pharmaceutical firms may influence the content of what is presented. Significant facts may be omitted, distorting claims. And of course there is a large middle ground of varying content and quality.

The next step is to look at the methodology of the study. Is it well designed? Was the size of the study group sufficiently large to determine if the treatment was effective? Were the patients included representative of what one would see in clinical practice?

Then the results. How significant are the differences? Look at how the graphs were done. All kinds of things can be done to make results look much more dramatic than they really were. What about the side effects and toxicities? Do you think the treatment is “worth it”? If there was a good response, fine. But did people actually live longer, or did the disease come roaring back, so the actual benefit was minimal?

After doing all that, one can move to the discussion and conclusions. Points may be made that one hasn’t considered. Future directions for research offered, and recommendations for the place of the new drug in treatment. One is now in a position to assess whether one agrees with the conclusions of the article.

The interpretation of biblical commentaries, on the other hand, is not quite so straightforward. There is a great deal of background information that can be analyzed using a scientific approach-archeological, historical and translation studies have all contributed to a deeper understanding of the meaning of the texts. But in the end, we are left with the story.

John is a master story teller. We are immediately drawn into the scene. It is night; Nicodemus comes looking for Jesus under the cover of darkness. He begins with a compliment: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God.”

At this point, two verses into the story, the questions are flying fast and furious. Why does Nicodemus come at night? Is he afraid, or embarrassed? Maybe he doesn’t want to be seen with Jesus. Maybe he couldn’t sleep. Maybe his heart was burning with curiosity and it just couldn’t wait till the morning.

Then the opening line: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs apart from the presence of God.” Is this genuine admiration, obsequious scraping, a tentative observation? What is the agenda?

It is hard to know. We are not told what Nicodemus is thinking or feeling, how he looks, or what tone of voice he is using. Is he here with trick questions, ready to entrap Jesus, or is he a spiritual seeker on a quest for some words of wisdom from the teacher?

Over the years there have been many hypotheses put forward about Nicodemus’ motivations. But in the end it doesn’t matter. Whatever has drawn him to this encounter, no matter how base or noble his motives, it will be an encounter with Christ. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t say in the text and we are left to our imagination.

We will see this again and again in the Gospel stories in the coming weeks. Jesus meets people right where they are in this moment. In fact, it is the only place any one of us can encounter God: here and now, just as we are in this moment.

Nicodemus has been impressed by the various signs Jesus has performed, but Jesus pushes him to go deeper: “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born from above”, or born again, depending on your translation. The work in Greek has both meanings. Regardless of the meaning, Nicodemus doesn’t get it. Jesus is offering a spiritual teaching, and Nicodemus wants to keep the conversation on the physical plane. He isn’t ready to hear what Jesus is telling him.

Like Nicodemus, we come to God for many different reasons. Perhaps, like me, you like to think that we are motivated by love, gratitude, desire, and wonder. But, if I am honest with myself, I find that just as often it is anger, fear, loneliness, or despair that seems to impel me to seek out God. In the end, it doesn’t matter. There will be an encounter. And at the heart of the encounter is always an invitation to be born again.

Not the “born again” that many contemporary Christians speak of: I accept Christ as my Lord and Savior. A personal moment of conversion and it’s done, but nothing much has changed. To reduce Jesus’ teaching to a single moment in time is to be as concrete as Nicodemus-it misses the point.

To be born again is to open oneself to Christ’s spirit. It means we allow Christ to dwell in us, to direct us, to transform us. It is definitely not business as usual. Inevitably one must die to be reborn. There is an self-emptying which must happen if there will be room for the spirit.

God encounters us as we are, in the present moment. But if we are not in the present moment with God, like Nicodemus, we may not get the message. Often it is our thinking that gets in the way: our memories, our fantasies, our hope for the easy way out. This happens to us an individuals, as families and communities, and as institutions.

Nostalgia for the good old days blinds us to what is happening right in front of our eyes. Often it is accompanied by a very biased and selective memory of what went before. A professional woman laments the loss of income and prestige associated with her former work. She forgets about the migraines she couldn’t get rid of when she was working seventy hours a week. An alcoholic husband is lauded for his wonderful storytelling. No one mentions the fact that he used to beat his wife when he went on a binge. People speak in hushed and reverent tones of the days past when Father Knowsbest was pastor, and ignore his legacy of twenty years of deferred maintenance and deficit budgets.

We refuse to let go of our fantasies of how things should be. Many of us still buy into the idea that if I work hard enough I can get whatever I want. We are shocked when fate has its way with us. We hope that parents scarred by abuse will not pass on their wounds to their children, when they have never had a chance to heal themselves. We cling to the idea that a church should be safe just because it is a church and we shouldn’t have to take the steps to make it so, rather than face the reality that the church has been a place that perpetrators could hide and do great damage with little risk of discovery, exposure, or consequences.

We long for cheap grace, and blur the difference between forgiveness and accountability. Some have the false idea that to have our sins forgiven means we are somehow released from the consequences of our actions. Forgiveness does not undo the past, but rather clears the path for reconciliation.

What kept Nicodemus from being fully present to his encounter with Jesus? We can speculate, but he doesn’t tell us. I suspect it is his own desire to cling to his memories, fantasies and illusions. There are consequences when we encounter Christ. If Nicodemus persists in his quest, he will be taunted and demeaned. He will be excluded from the inner circle of the religious elite, no longer trusted because of his associations with this newcomer who is stirring things up. His life may be at risk if he aligns himself with the new movement. His life certainly would be changed. It will not feel the same, going to the Temple. Some of his friends will drop him like a hot potato. There will be times when he will feel lonely or scared.

We are left hanging at the end of the story. Nicodemus doesn’t seem to be able to grasp the teaching. He shows up two more times in the Gospel of John. In chapter seven, when the crowds are clamoring for Jesus’ arrest, Nicodemus reminds them that the law requires a hearing first. They taunt him, saying “Surely you are not from Galilee also?” He reappears in the passion narrative, when he brings a hundred pounds of myrrh and aloes, and goes with Joseph of Arimethea to bury Jesus. As they are wrapping the body, a breeze touches his face, and he understands. He has been born again. This is eternal life.

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Updated: March 19, 2008