Second Sunday in Lent
Donna Joy

Genesis 12:1-4a; John 3: 1-17

Finally, a couple of weeks ago, I got around to watching the movie A Beautiful Day in the Neighbourhood which, as many of you already know, is the story of Fred Rogers. More accurately, it is the story of a relationship which developed between Fred and a journalist; a relationship that highlights how encounters with the indelible Fred Rogers had the potential to transform the lives of people from a state of brokenness to spiritual wholeness, health, and strength. This journalist was assigned the task of writing an article, featuring Fred Rogers, to be published along with a series focusing on people who might be defined as heroes. Of course, Fred being Fred, the notion of being defined as a hero was not something he embraced easily. So, this journalist hesitantly proceeded with this assignment; to say that he was not thrilled with this task would be an understatement.

Prior to meeting Fred, he was filled with a sense of dis-ease. His career was not moving in the direction he had anticipated; he was disappointed with the direction in which things seemed to be heading. His personal life was conflicted. He had serious unresolved issues with a particular family member, where acceptance and forgiveness seemed an impossible goal; he had rejected all attempts that were made to become reconciled. He carries all this – embodies all this – as he enters into the presence of this quirky, lovely, loving, beautiful man of faith; as he enters into the presence of a man whose faith is intimately integrated into the way he lives and loves.

This journalist had become consumed by a foreboding sense of darkness and doom, and was taken by surprise as he was transformed by this encounter. In the words of C.S. Lewis, he was, “surprised by joy.” It was not an immediate transformation. It happened over a long period of time. But through his growing relationship with Fred, he began to see the world differently. He began to recognize that life is more than climbing up the corporate ladder; that all people are frail, particularly the one that filled him with such rage, and life is so much more peaceful and rich when we embrace those whose life patterns are different from ours; when we respect the dignity of every human being. In time, this journalist - this broken man - discovered the peace and fullness of life that come when we leave behind old resentments and negative patterns of behavior in response to the gift of unconditional love which begins with God and is made manifest through the love of those we encounter.

At the very center of our faith is a God who always longs to connect with us. Scripture, history, and current unfolding of events are full of stories of people who encounter this ever-present God, and with God’s help remove the obstacles preventing them from a fullness of life. They are transformed by such a divine experience, simply by being loved.

Our Gospel this morning speaks of a man, Nicodemus, who approaches Jesus in the darkness of night, full of skepticism and yet, over time, seems to have been transformed by the encounter. Nicodemus is described as a Pharisee, that is, one who is understood as fastidious in keeping the letter of the Law, and associated with those who were opposed to Jesus throughout His ministry.
Jesus often challenged them for their legalistic interpretation of Scripture. Nicodemus is also described as a member of the Sanhedrin, that is, a leader of the Jews.

John reports that Nicodemus came to speak with Jesus at night. Some might say that this is because he was afraid or ashamed to visit Jesus in broad daylight, so he made a nighttime visit instead. This may be the case, but the text does not give a reason for the timing of the visit. A number of other reasons are also possible. Much of Nicodemus’ agenda seems to be to question Jesus, so as a member of the ruling council, it would have been his responsibility to find out about any teachers or other public figures who might lead the people in the wrong direction. Such an official visit may have been considered safer at night.

Within the context of this question period, or what may seem more like an interrogation, there is the whole back and forth about the need to be born again. Nicodemus, it seems, is trying to take this teaching literally; for example: is it possible for a person to climb back into his/her mother’s womb? But essentially, what Jesus is likely saying here is connected to the event of his own baptism, where he was baptized with water, and the holy spirit descended upon him, so he – himself – was born ‘from water and spirit.’ Matthew’s Gospel offers the accompanying declaration: This is my Son, the beloved, with whom I am well pleased.

Nicodemus, still confused, asks again how this notion of being born again can be even remotely possible, to which Jesus then begins to refer to his death on the cross. This death does not signify defeat, but a rising to new life: that is, the moment of God’s glorious triumph which will restore life for all those who look to Jesus and believe that he is the long awaited one, sent from God.

The message of blessing and hope, begun with Abraham (as highlighted in our first reading), is now fulfilled with Jesus. Abraham (a highly unlikely choice… initially, not even a follower – or perhaps a believer – of the God who has now chosen him to fulfill this monumental task)... Abraham answered God’s call. With no maps, or GPS, he left all that was familiar to go to an unknown place to which he is called. With God’s help, he remained faithful to that call; he and Sarah - after all - did become fruitful and give birth to a new generation; God blessed him so that he may become a blessing to others.

We might wonder what were the obstacles that could have potentially prevented Abraham from responding to this call: Perhaps fear of the unknown? Fear of leaving behind people/circumstances that were comfortable and familiar? Fear of feeling unworthy? Whatever those potential obstacles, He (and Sarah) overcame them.

Nicodemus comes at night, perhaps fearful of the opinions of his peers, or perhaps as a representative of a religious institution mandated to get the low down on this Jesus who seems to be wielding influence, making religious leaders uncomfortable. He misunderstands Jesus; is confused about what Jesus says. And he disappears from sight having shown no signs of great comprehension or faith.

And yet, he will reappear at two later points in the narrative. In chapter 7 he offers a somewhat hesitant defense of Jesus, and in chapter 19 he accompanies Joseph of Arimathea with an exorbitant amount of spices for Jesus’ burial. Like the journalist in the Fred Rogers movie, Nicodemus may be a slow learner, but he gets there eventually.

It is not entirely clear, but it may be that John recognizes that while some come to faith quickly, others take more time. We might say that John is inviting some of those – then or now – who have difficulty believing that the cross is the moment of God’s victory to come along for the ride or, in more traditionally Johannine language, to ‘come and see.’ Faith, in John’s gospel, is always a verb, and believing may take some longer than others. Since we do have reason to wonder if something was awakened in Nicodemus that starts to become visible as John’s Gospel unfolds, we might also wonder what the obstacles may have been that he had to overcome. Perhaps fear of losing his place of stature and importance within his own religious institution. Fear of recognizing that his faith was evolving in ways that he had never expected. Fear of leaving behind that which was familiar, or comfortable.

God chose Abraham, an unlikely candidate, to become the father of many nations. Abraham overcame the potential obstacles, and accomplished the task to which he was called. God called Nicodemus to visit Jesus, where he discovers something compelling that seems to have taken root over time. And, of course, the ace in the sleeve of every Christian is that God called Jesus, a humble, loving, sacrificial Messiah who journeyed to the cross and died so that with Him all may rise to lives of spiritual abundance and fullness.

Fred Rogers was a man who seems to have lived a life of deep and abiding faith. Of course, we need to remember that he likely was not perfect. But, it seems, he was a pretty good work in progress. Through his seemingly authentic life, steeped in a deep and abiding love for Christ, he managed to lead a jaded, skeptical, broken and seriously damaged journalist into a richness of life, filled with acceptance, respect, and forgiveness. And this journalist was just one of countless people whose lives were touched and transformed. Fred Rogers was a prolific channel through which so many people’s lives were touched and transformed.

Were there obstacles that this journalist and others had to overcome along the way? Absolutely. I encourage you to reflect over the next week and throughout the season of Lent: What obstacles do you need to ask God to help you to remove so that you may discover the brand of love embodied in Jesus, made available to us through his death on the cross? I’ve had this conversation with people over the years, and various individuals have offered such insightful suggestions as:

  • Certitude: giving up the need for certainty may open the doors to a deeper and richer faith – faith meaning believing that which you cannot see
  • Status: giving up the need for status positions may open the doors to a deeper and richer faith
  • Needing to do things the way we have become accustomed to doing them: giving up a resistance to change may open our eyes to new and life-giving possibilities
  • Withholding forgiveness: accepting God’s forgiveness for ourselves, and sharing that gift with those who have hurt, betrayed, denied us may open the doors to a deeper and richer glimpse of the kingdom to which Jesus calls us.

As we read and reflect on the story of Abraham, along with this Nicodemus story and the story of the transformed life of a journalist - understanding that Jesus’ life, love, and sacrifice exist at the very core of all such stories - our primary focus is: What are the obstacles that we need to ask God to help us remove so that we may be free to accept and be transformed by this gift of life, love, and sacrifice? During the Season of Lent, and in particular this Second Sunday in Lent, I pray that each of us may name these things, and with God’s help, let them go.

Finally, we must remember, that this gift of transformative love is never a gift that is exclusive, or even primarily, just about us. It is, it must be, a gift that keeps on giving. Abraham was blessed so that he may be a blessing to others. Jesus’ death on the cross and resurrection to new life is the fulfillment of this blessing, given freely to each of us, so that we may be a blessing to others. Fred Rogers was blessed with this gift, and he became a blessing to countless others. So, may we, receive this gift; that through the integrity of our faith we may become a blessing to others.