#Freedom #Resist

John 3:1-5, 14-17, Rev. Billie Watts

I remember well the season of my spiritual discontent, the season when my life butted up against my well conceived religious beliefs: my well-ordered black and white world, where right was right, and wrong was wrong; when I could assign people to the proper categories, and a literal reading of Scripture made things all so clear. I was well studied. But you see, I had four children, and they began to mess up my well-ordered world. Each one had their own personality, way of being in the world, their own self-hood and self –identities. It began my undoing. Nothing sets you up for an undoing like having all the answers. I was humbled – but that place of humility and questioning birthed compassion in me that might have otherwise remained dormant.

 

As I began to seek answers to my many questions, they led to the discovery that there was so much I didn’t know – so much more. I challenged God to show me, and as a result, my view of God and God’s love went from a narrow, tunnel vision to a broader, more inclusive, ever widening vision. God’s love was far bigger than I imagined.

 

I relate to the story of Nicodemus. The author of the Gospel according to John uses his characters in a way that enables us to see ourselves and identify with their struggles. Nicodemus is about to have an encounter with Jesus that will throw him off center and leave him confused and with more questions than answers. He is ripe with potential to enter the labor/birthing room. “Belieeeeeve me” - encounters with Jesus can leave us at a crossroads – a crisis where we have to decide whether or not we believe him - whether or not we will entrust ourselves to him and his ways.

 

Nicodemus comes with all his preconceived notions. He is a Pharisee, a member of the Sanhedrin, a muckety muck in Judaism. He is a man of knowledge, status, privilege, respect, and he took the study of Torah seriously. He practices a strict observance of religious ceremonies and adheres to oral laws and traditions. His world is well-ordered, and he knows with certainty who is in or out, who is righteous or a sinner, with whom to associate and who is unclean, and what to eat or not eat. He has it all figured out, which means he, too, is ripe for an undoing – to be born anew/ from above. Like many of us, he may want a change without having to change himself. He may want to stay the same, but just feel better about it! William Sloane Coffin, in one of his sermons, quotes Augustine, who says of Nicodemus, “He runs well, but off the track.”[1] He comes at night, which is said to symbolize his unbelief – but at least he comes. There begins the push and pull he will experience in this spiritual life and how, sometimes, our resistance, like his, is in the wrong direction.

 

 

 

Nicodemus calls Jesus “teacher” and says he knows that Jesus is from God, for all the signs and wonders he does could only come from God’s power. Ah yes, Jesus is a teacher and from God, but so much more! Jesus basically tells Nicodemus that Nicodemus has no idea who Jesus really is or about kindom living, and can’t know unless he is born from above. Jesus surely will not fit into Nicodemus’ categories of how a Messiah is supposed to be and his ways of relating to the world…not (narrow) but here (arms wide open).

 

Nicodemus takes this being born from above literally, of course, mistakenly assuming he is to go back into the womb and be born again. Nicodemus is, at best, confused and, at worst, finds it ridiculous and impossible. To be born from above by water and the Spirit is to believe in Jesus – to step into the light from out of darkness, out of one’s head and into one’s heart. Jesus offers a reboot – a radical transformation – getting back on track and a new way of perceiving the world and living in it.

 

Jesus tells him about life with the Eternal God, which is contrary to Rome as the eternal city, with its death-dealing ways and oppressive, dominating tactics. Then Jesus makes a connection with an old story with a new twist. Jesus will be lifted up like the serpent Moses raised on the pole so that all who looked on it were healed of its power. Jesus will also be the healer of all people, his love an antidote to the poisonous venom the world spews. Eternal life is not only a quantity of life but also a quality of life where all have equal access to the abundant life, a life marked by justice and resistance to the enemies of creation.

 

An encounter with Jesus is an encounter with God’s saving presence, bringing about a state of wholeness, without hierarchy, exploitation, subjugation, or oppression. The lifting up of Jesus shows how far we will go in resisting the invitation to transformation but also how far Jesus will go to bring about transformation, in spite of ourselves. God so loved this God-hating world, bent on resisting God’s extravagant love, that God sent Jesus, not to condemn it, but to rescue it…and us. Will Nicodemus believe him?

 

Belief is found in some form over 100 times in this gospel. It is never a noun – never just an affirmation of faith. It is always a verb, a trust that produces action. How can we understand the difference? Perhaps this story will help. There was a man who determined to push a wheelbarrow across Niagara Falls while walking a tightrope. I cannot imagine why. Reporters gathered to witness the big event. The tightrope walker asked one of the reporters if he believed the tightrope walker could indeed accomplish his goal. After some hesitation, the reporter responded, “Yes, I believe you can do it,” to which the tightrope walker replied, “Then get in the wheelbarrow.”

 

Will we get in the wheelbarrow and begin to live out our baptismal vows, immersed in God’s purpose and will for all creation?

 

Two years ago, a gathering of confirmands where I was serving were going to be baptized. One of them wanted to be immersed, and soon, 4 others followed suit. A pool was made available, and I had the honor of asking them the baptismal vows. I wanted to put it in kid lingo – and so I stated that I was sure that, by now, they knew there was evil and wickedness in the world, but assured them that they could renounce and reject such forces – that they didn’t have to play that game. I asked, “Do you say ‘No’ to such powers and ‘Yes’ to living God’s way? They did. So, I continued, “Then you have a responsibility, for God gives you the freedom and power to recognize evil, injustice, and oppression, which comes in many forms. Will you accept the responsibility to stand up for others who are treated unfairly, put down by others, bullied at school, home, or in the world, and stand up against hatred in all its forms?” They answered that they did accept that responsibility that freedom, and that power, Holy Spirit power. Such power is beyond ourselves but takes root in us and rises up, enabling us to do the impossible.

 

It was their liberation day, and it is ours. Freedom to move beyond categories, freedom to move into new places where God is at work, freedom to step from the darkness into the light, freedom from what binds us – including traditional thinking. Freedom from preserving the status quo at odds with God’s purposes, freedom from being judged and judging, freedom from condemnation, freedom from fear. “The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear?” (Psalm 27:1). Truth is, am I the only one who sometimes fears Christians? I believe it is a form of blasphemy to associate hate-speak with Jesus. Those who experience the love of Christ should extend the same to all.

 

It might be said, given the divisive rhetoric today, that evil is in the eye of the beholder. I once heard it said that there was great evil in Boerne, and I was it. So I needed a working definition of evil. My definition is anything that thwarts God’s purpose and will for a just society, a life of abundance for all people, and stands in opposition to God’s love and healing for all people. Richard Rohr, a mentor and teacher of mine, writes that the moment we know with certainty who the good guys and bad guys are, then we are capable of great evil.[2]Jesus resisted such things, and as Christians, as followers, so can we.

 

How will we resist? My facebook page is inundated with resistance posts. Not by taking up arms, as some wished Jesus would do, but by linking arms, by doing good – by loving God, praying for our enemies, welcoming the stranger, and showing up to our neighbors.

 

At the Dialogue and Friendship dinner on Tuesday night, hosted by the Raindrop Turkish House, a Muslim community, Rev. Dirk Ficca spoke on the antidote to extremism. Examples of such antidotes are monies raised to rebuild a burned down mosque, a go-fund-me account where money was raised to protect and repair desecrated Jewish cemeteries. The Imam and his wife happened to be sitting at our table, and he showed me a corner of them and his family taken at the corner of Travis Street and Navarro pointing to the banner on our tower: “We stand with our Muslim neighbors.” Antidotes to extremism.

 

Last Monday, Wayne and I joined 400 other folks gathered in Austin for Trans Lobby Day – a day devoted to showing up at the state capital in support of our transgender community and to resist senate bill 6, known as the “bathroom bill.” We were privy to stories where people are robbed of equal access to public life by discriminatory bathroom policies. We heard the story of a young K or 1^st grade trans boy who would not go to the bathroom all day because of fear. The boys didn’t want him in their bathroom, nor did the girls. I wondered, “What are we doing to each other?” Who is really at risk?  Will we link arms and say “no” to discrimination rooted in fear mongering and falsehoods?

 

Baptism is a dangerous business. It is actually a revolutionary act, where we redefine our allegiances. The minute the water is disturbed, concentric circles ripple out from the center. We live in a time of ever-widening circles. Rilke, the German poet and novelist, writes about this in his poem, “Widening Circles.”

                       

                        I live my life in widening circles

                        that reach out across the world.

                        I may not complete this last one

                        but I give myself to it.

                       

                        I circle around God, around the primordial tower.

                        I’ve been circling for thousands of years

                        and I still don’t know: am I a falcon,

                        a storm, or a great song?[3]

 

To me, this means that we are always evolving. Thankfully, God’s love is forever reaching outward, beyond the farthest circle. It cannot be confined.

 

We do not know whether or not Nicodemus ever became a disciple. He shows up two more times in the gospel of John: in 7:50, after the Temple guards have returned to the Pharisees without arresting Jesus, and Nicodemus stands up for him, sort of. Lastly, we meet him with Joseph of Arimathea in 19:38, taking the body of Jesus down from the cross, wrapping his body with spices and cloth before burying him in the tomb. But it is in his ambiguity that we discover our own.

 

Will we accept the freedom and power God gives us to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?

 

Jesus did. He never backed down – he was in it till the end. Now…

 

the decision is ours.

 

Amen.