"Who Do You Trust?" (based on John 3:1-17)

There are so many truths in this passage one could preach on it every Sunday for a year and not do it justice. Some have spent hours speculating on why Nicodemus chose to go see Jesus at night. Too busy? Too important to be seen going to a country preacher? He had a bad conscience and couldn’t sleep? He was waiting until the Sabbath had ended? And on and on.


What strikes me about this passage is the immediacy of it. Nicodemus is in the presence of the Son of God. He doesn’t know it, but he senses there is something special about Jesus that he can only respect and honor. One would think Jesus would appreciate that fact, even glory in it. But he does not. “ You say nice things, and offer me your respectful attention, but you do not believe me. You trust your own teachings more than you trust me. “

It’s painful. Plato spoke about the same thing in a parable . He describes a nation of people who are trapped in a cave. Their feet are shackled to the floor, their heads held rigid so that all they can see is a blank wall. A fire burns behind them and objects are placed between them and the fire so that they cast their shadow upon the wall. That is their reality. That is all they know: shadows. Then one man manages to escape his shackles and slip out of the cave into the real world, a world of dimensions and color. He is dazzled by what he sees. But how shall he explain what the real world looks like when he goes back into the cave?

That is the dilemma of the Son of Man who has been to heaven and back and is now charged with telling mortals what he has seen and known. This is the challenge of the Messiah. This is the heartbreaking reality of the “seer” who has glimpsed divine truths that simply can’t be condensed into words.

Let’s put this on a still more “human” level. You’ve been in the amusement park and you saw the roller coaster beckon. It was way too scary to attempt, but it was also so attractive. It must be incredibly exciting. Listen to the screams and squeals of delight of the happy rider. Nothing bad happened to them. Surely it was safe, or authorities would shut it down. In a moment of daring, you decide to give it a try. And it is glorious! Now you can’t wait to share the exhilaration with your friends, but they won’t go. Too dangerous. Impossible. How do you tell them you felt like a god in heaven itself?

Of course Jesus was God. The analogy doesn’t quite fit. No, in fact, it fits even more. Jesus spoke of what he knew from his own experience. But what he said was so preposterous - born again. No, no way. Quite impossible. How frustrating to know you are speaking the truth and you are not being understood. You are either put down as a liar or a lunatic. All right, a nice liar - you mean well. Just like coaxing a child to take medicine you know tastes terrible, but it will be good for the child. Or a benign lunatic, one who has harmless delusions. “Thinks he’s the son of God, but he’s not dangerous.”

The newcomer to an AA meeting is confronted with just such “lunatics” who confidently say “There’s hope. I was down for the count, and look at me now.” And the newcomer says, “Good for you. I wish it could work for me, but it won’t.” It’s frustrating and heart breaking. It echoes Thomas Merton’s cry “How can I tell people they are walking around shining like the sun?”

This is the anguish of Jesus, and of God. To love us so much. To be so vitally wrapped up in our lives and caring so deeply, and be unable to be heard, believed, understood.

Our problems are many, but chief among them is our fear - our fear of the holiness of God. Our fear of such perfection that can singe us. Our fear of an expected wrath that could annihilate us with one word from the omnipotent God. How can God get over that very human fear?
Jesus tries to reassure Nicodemus. God’s not on the warpath out to punish us endlessly. Those who think so give God a terrible reputation. I am not only appalled at such preaching, I am incensed that God’s good news should be polluted by such madness. These folk who go to funerals and cemeteries spewing out hatred and call it the will of God - I think surely, if God does have anger, it must be focused on them who make God out to be a monster.

But we need not blame only such fanatics; this misguided thinking abides in the nation at large. I have heard it too many times not to know what people are really thinking. When someone draws near to death, or someone suffers an untimely death, there are good people, people who mean well, people who love Jesus and serve God faithfully, but who are obsessed with fear that their loved one may not have been saved. Did they never listen to Jesus’s words? Did they not believe him when he spoke of God’s grace? Don’t they understand our God is a gracious and loving God, quick to forgive, eager to be friends?

What we can’t understand is a loving God who is forgiving of that which we cannot forgive ourselves. We judge ourselves far more fiercely than God does. We believe our own judgment more than the good news of the Son of God. Any God who would overlook my mistakes is too imperfect for me. I need a perfect God, and obviously such perfection would have nothing to do with me.

Yet we sing the hymn, “Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.” We like the song, and think, “Wouldn’t it be nice?” and go right on condemning ourselves as beyond forgiveness anyway.

Well, all I can say is this, Jesus offers hope. We get the benefit of that hope by accepting it: a free gift. Our part in the matter is simple: believe it, accept it. In other words “Have Faith”. Simple, right? Well,
not so simple. We are so certain this good news is faulty, we shake our heads and dismiss it.

We don’t know what Nicodemus did with his good news. He came in the night and left in the darkness. And the rest of us? Well, who knows. The wind of the spirit comes and goes. How blessed are those who dare to trust Jesus and believe the good news they’ve heard, more than their own idea of who God is and what God is really like.

That roller coaster ride is bliss! Amen