What will you risk?
When
I first entered Seminary, it was kind of a secret. I did not tell most people in my life about
it. I mean, my parents knew, my sister
and my roommate, a few other close friends… but I didn’t shout it from the
rooftops. It wasn’t something I tried to
keep from people… I just didn’t really bring it up. My faith journey that had started in my high
school youth group, detoured during college, and was being rekindled through my
organizing work was life-giving to me but would prove plenty confusing to
others. I mean, if you can imagine… I was an organizer working in the rough and
tumble world of Illinois Democratic politics.
In the political world of power personalities, there was a constant
pressure to prove you were serious about the work – and plenty of people who
lived and breathed politics. Most of my
social network was drawn from those I had previously worked with. Few, if any of those people, had a habit of
going to church… and most of them associated the word ‘Christian’ with
political causes they disagreed with.
And
while many of my classmates at Chicago Theological Seminary had a distinct vision of who they wanted to
be, I entered Seminary mostly as an exploration. I wanted to know what this God thing was all
about… but I didn’t want to risk my reputation with my secular political
network by talking about it too much.
Nicodemus
was a guy who wasn’t ready to risk too much of his world either.
Nicodemus was a powerful guy in his time. We see
him 3 times in the book of John; first in this passage, and later in chapter 7
when as a Pharisee, he protests the course of action being taken against Jesus
and argues that he deserves a fair trial; and finally after the crucifixion,
when Nicodemus joins Joseph of Arimethea in retrieving Jesus’ body from the
cross, and dressing and anointing it before laying it in the tomb.
From these three passages, we can deduct that he
was a powerful man in the Jewish hierarchy.
He’s a member of the ruling council of Sanhedrin. The name Sanhedrin always remind me of
something out of the Da Vinci code…but it actually comes from a Greek word
meaning ‘to assemble’. In the Hebrew Bible, Moses and
the Israelites were commanded by God to establish courts of judges who were
given authority over the people of Israel. Drawing on this command, the
Sanhedrin were these
judges; they were a governing body made up of the chief priest (high priest), a
vice chief justice, and 69 general members that were Pharisees and Sadducees.
It is basically the Supreme Court and legislative body of ancient Israel.
In addition to being part
of the Sanhedrin, Pharisees were also considered religious leaders and teachers of Judaism
in the land of Israel. So Nicodemus was
indeed a powerful man in the Jewish ruling system. Respectable. A very
public figure in his community whom everyone probably knew, like a Pastor, a member
of the city council, and the President of Kiwanis all rolled into one. He was part of the leadership of the
community. But as we can see… he was
also a believer, on the fringes of the Jesus movement.
Nicodemus comes to Jesus in the dark because
it’s too dangerous for him to come in the light of day. He has a lot to lose. Meeting with this Jesus, this peasant teacher
and healer, is quite far below his stature. It would raise some eyebrows. It could be like Paul Ryan coming to meet
with someone living at the Crossroads Shelter.
But also to be heard admitting that “we” know you are a teacher that
comes from God… did you catch that? It’s not only Nicodemus who believes that
Jesus dwells with the presence of God - there are others among his social class
of Pharisees. To be heard admitting this
about a man who challenges their rules and laws at every turn… that would risk
surrendering the authority of those who claim to be authorities on the Word of
God. Nicodemus is compelled by his
conscience, by something weighing on his heart, but it’s not something he’s
ready to share publicly.
I
don’t think of Nicodemus as someone selfishly concerned with his own
reputation. Perhaps Nicodemus was not so
concerned with his own power and prestige, but perhaps with finding a
reasonable solution to the dilemma. I
imagine Nicodemus was a natural negotiator who was looking for some incremental
compromise that would save his institution but also preserve Jesus’ life and
message. I think he comes looking for
practical answers.
And instead, Jesus answers him with a beautiful
allegory about living in the light. About eternal life and the Kingdom of
God. About being born again, from above,
of Water and Spirit.
Being born again - being ‘saved’ – these are
phrases that I’m sure we’ve all heard before.
Powerful statements that proclaim someone’s relationship to God, and
probably more about a certain lifestyle and social network. Your reaction to this phrase probably has
something to do with your past experience with someone who proclaimed it. Sometimes the phrase is used to include,
sometimes to exclude. I spent a lot of
time in college in bible studies with wonderful, loving people who were
inviting me into their social circle of people who professed to be Saved, but I
struggled with the theology. At home, my
best friend who I met in my high school youth group was also spending time at
home with an adult youth group and really enjoying it. Her new friends were warm, and welcoming, and
she felt like she had belonging in a new social circle. One day they were all sitting around a
dinner table, and someone suggested they tell their stories. My friend listened to the wonderful stories
with appreciation. But when they got to her and asked, ‘when were you saved?’,
she was a bit dumbfounded. “I’ve always
been saved… I’m Catholic. I was baptized.”
‘Sure, they said… but when did you know you were truly loved by
God?’ My friend answered, “I’ve always
known that.” She said that after that
conversation, the welcome didn’t feel as warm anymore.
The funny thing is, they were speaking the same
language. The pledge that takes shape
when someone is ‘born again’ is the same pledge as our Baptisms, later affirmed
by our confirmation in the faith. It is
a pledge to live a life that reflects God’s will. It is a promise to respond to
the call of God on our hearts and minds with our deeds, voices and
devotion. It is a covenant that someone
will be able to recognize our faith by the way we live our lives.
When
I started to ‘come out’ as someone studying ministry, I received my fair share
of shock and surprise… and some disgruntled opinions as well. There were a lot of questions. A few of my
friends – those who grew up Catholic – asked me if I was going to become a
Nun. THAT question I knew the answer to…
but there were plenty of questions I didn’t know how to answer.
One
day, while still in school, I attended a church service led by my friend,
Reverend Jim Benn, who had been a mentor and a guide through my deliberations
on Seminary and ministry. Jim had a
unique story of going from an atheist community organizer to a converted,
proclaiming, ordained minister – and part of that happened through the process
of Seminary. After church, as he was
introducing me to people during coffee hour, I noticed him looking at me with
curiosity mixed with disappointment. He
asked why I wasn’t telling people that I, too, was in Seminary. He reminded me that I have undertaken a
journey to serve God, and it also required a change in lifestyle. Why hadn’t I been doing that? I guess I wasn’t ready… I was still
developing my faith, and the answers to all the questions I would get. I was gestating… my born again experience
wasn’t yet at full term.
Nicodemus believes, but he hasn’t yet come to
the conclusion that he should be turning his life upside-down for this Jesus
character. He can see the evidence of
God in this man, but he’s looking for a safe route. He’s looking for a compromise. He’s trying to
negotiate, as I was for so many years.
Later, he tries to intercede – pushing back on the other Pharisees in
the Sanhedrin when they are rushing to judgment and arrest – but it’s already
too late. The other Pharisees ridicule
him! Still, he hopes to preserve the
institution and the man.
It is only after the Crucifixion that Nicodemus
openly shows his true colors. Only once
the holy light of Jesus has been extinguished, does Nicodemus come out of the
shadows. Without reservation or
statement, he goes solemnly to the cross with Myrrh and Aloe to do the hard,
sad work of anointing a man he believed in.
In those moments, I wonder how many times he judged himself, “I should
have… I could have…” recognizing the opportunity he missed to really know this
man, this agent of God – how he missed the opportunity to know God
himself.
We have all been Nicodemus at some point in our
lives. We have all stood at the edge of
risk and chosen to be cautious. We have
all negotiated, looking for ways to compromise and hold onto the things that we
think make up our identity. We have all been in a place where we would choose
to incubate just a bit longer.
Contrast Nicodemus with Abraham. The Hebrew scripture chosen for today from
the book of Genesis is a short passage telling of Abraham’s call from God. Abraham risked everything by following God’s
command to separate from his kin. In
that time, the kin group was the source of identity, economic benefit, security,
and protection. To leave such a
fundamental social network is to put a great deal at risk – and for what? What assurances does God offer? To lead him to an unspecified location, a
land that God will show him, in time.
Few of us can probably relate to what it feels like to leave everything
behind. To become an immigrant and take
extraordinary risks, alienate yourself from your culture, and your people, and
your protection… These are two parodies about risking yourself to follow what
God is calling you for. God is telling
us that yes, there is incredible risk in following the call of God upon one’s
life. But, as the passage concludes, God
tells Abraham, in you will be a blessing to all nations. To answer God’s call is to become a blessing
to others.
My friend Jim Benn died in 2009, much too early,
of Pancreatic Cancer. He never had the
opportunity to see me find the courage to proclaim God’s call on my life.
Nicodemus was
neither the first in the community, nor the last, to follow Jesus from
afar. He was a seeker that could have
used more time to develop his thoughts, his plan of action, and then to act. The point is not that faith in the dark is
faulty – only that it can be too small, too safe, too late. The question is not whether we are saved –
but more than that. The question is,
will we take a risk to show our faith?
What is God’s desire for us - and when will we take a risk to respond to
God’s call? What concerns or worries or
dreams are we keeping hidden when it’s far past the time for action? When will we respond to that thing that’s
weighing on our conscience? How long
will it take for us to act – and will it be too late?
Or will we take a risk, trusting that God is
with us in the journey?
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