Born Again

Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God unless they are born again.” (John 3:3)

From Scott...

Nicodemus came to Jesus late at night, when no one was looking.  In what is portrayed as a brief encounter in John 3, the Pharisee risks greatly by acknowledging that Jesus must Himself be of God in order to do what has been seen.  He lays himself bare in that moment, no doubt with some expectations of Jesus’ response.

Read carefully.  At this point, Nicodemus has asked no question of Jesus.  He simply acknowledged who he understood Jesus to be.

Jesus could have said, “You’re right!”  Or, “Thank you!”

Instead, he lays out an underpinning of the Christian faith that for these 2000-odd years has been used as a message of hope, an excuse, a hammer,  a sword, or something altogether different, depending completely on the context in which and by which it is conveyed.

“No one can see the Kingdom of God unless they are born again.”

Next week, we will explore Nicodemus’ reaction to that message in greater depth.  But for now, let’s just let those words soak in for us today.

Born again.  Many women would likely say that I (and men, in general) have little to say about the subject of childbirth.  From direct observation, however, I can report that it seems to be a greatly uncomfortable, almost unthinkable experience for a mother.

Further careful consideration leads me to think it’s no picnic for the one being birthed, either.

From the warm, quiet, carefree environment of the womb, the little one is forced, squeezed head-first through a passageway far too small for anyone’s comfort.  Complications often ensue.  Bright lights, a slap on the back or behind, and an array of unfamiliar sounds and sights are there to greet the newborn at the end of the journey.

One Monday morning when I was 12, a schoolmate reported that he had been “saved” the night before at church.  I was intrigued.  He spoke of the experience as a one-time event, sort of like receiving a passport or a get-out-of-Jail-free card in Monopoly.  He had walked down the aisle, made his profession of faith, and was good to go.  With that description, I expected him to be different from that moment on, to be much “holier.”  And I expected that I most assuredly was destined for the flames of Hell having not experienced the same thing.

Jesus could have said, “No one can see the Kingdom of God unless they fill out this application,” or “unless they are fulfill the basic requirements of the organized church for a minimum of 10 years.”  But he didn’t, and without getting into the “once saved, always saved” discussion, Jesus’ use of the metaphor of childbirth implies to me that seeing the Kingdom of God was not to be realized without some forcing, squeezing, discomfort, complications and a few slaps on the back or behind.

So today, on the Second Sunday of Advent, I am reflecting on the way life has forced, squeezed, discomforted, and even slapped me around from time to time.  On the other end of that experience, did I come to understand (see) more of what God had planned for me, more of how God was living through the lives of others (even those I disliked or who differed from me), more of how God could be living through me (even when I disliked myself)?

And—again, without the “once saved, always saved” discussion—I’m wondering if it is possible that Jesus meant to say, “You must be born again…and again…and again…and again…” to fully understand (see) the Kingdom of God.

I’m thankful to be living a faith that allows me to have those wonderings, even amidst the wonder of all that is Christmas.