New Thoughts (7/23/05-7/2705)
John is most gracious in introducing us to Nicodemus. First, I would note that in Nicodemus we are given a balance to the overall image of the Pharisees and the Sanhedrin that the Gospels present to us. By and large these two groups play the role of the antagonist in the narrative, but here we are given an exception. Jesus would, at a later date, tell his disciples that their righteousness must exceed that of the Pharisees (Mt 5:20). Since, in many cases that righteousness was no more than a surface thing, this might not seem a great challenge. Yet, Nicodemus stands as proof that there were those amongst the ranks who sought a true righteousness. Here is the hurdle our own efforts must clear.
John’s graciousness towards this man extends also to the fact that, though he tells us that Nicodemus came by night, he does not further expound the reasons for this. He could have explicitly declared that Nicodemus was afraid his friends and co-counselors might see him. He could have said that Nicodemus was afraid he would lose his position and his reputation were anybody to find out he had been here. But, he does no such thing. He chooses to recognize that this man, however circumspect his approach, came because of an earnest respect for Jesus, and because of an earnest desire for the kingdom of God.
Now, when I first approached these verses, I had thoughts of exploring the whole story of Nicodemus as one whole, but there was clearly too much there to do justice to in a single effort. Still, it is well to consider the whole flow of the conversation he had with Nicodemus, as there are connections in that exchange that are not going to be as immediately evident now that I’ve broken out the three separate pieces of that exchange. For instance, we understand by implication that Nicodemus came by night for a reason. We understand that he came in a fashion that would prevent him from being seen. He didn’t say so outright. Neither does John. No, and Jesus doesn’t confront him on this directly, either. Yet, I do see Him commenting on Nicodemus’ concerns in the second exchange.
Nicodemus has, by that point, been told of the need for a rebirth, yet he does not grasp the import. Jesus explains that the rebirth is a spiritual matter, not a physical one. Then, He adds the well known comparison of the Spirit-born and the wind. “No one knows where it comes from or where it is going.” Hadn’t this been Nicodemus’ concern as he came to the house? He took great pains to make certain that nobody knew where he was going. Neither would they be given to know when he came back from there. I see in this an assurance that Jesus is planting in this man. Indeed, it strikes me that much of what transpires throughout this conversation is a matter of planting seeds. Nicodemus doesn’t get it at the time. This is not terribly surprising. Jesus, it seems to me, often deals with people in this fashion. His words seem so at odds with what has gone before in the conversation. The meaning seems always to lie in different directions than the words might immediately suggest.
I think back to His talk of rebuilding the temple. Well, given His hearers and the setting, it was perfectly natural that they would think of the building and not the body. However, as we so often do, these learned teachers of religion assumed the preposterous. Rather than reject a meaning that was so apparently nonsensical as to defy consideration, they assumed it to be the right meaning for His words. There’s a great lesson in this for general conversation and for the written word as well. If the meaning we arrive at doesn’t seem to make sense, then we probably haven’t arrived at the meaning.
I see this so often, that we hear or read a word that we may not be familiar with. Perhaps, we are familiar with the word, but have been incorrect as to what we thought it meant. So, we hear something said, and we simply can’t make sense out of it. But, what is our reaction to this? It seems that more often than not we simply assume that what was said didn’t make sense. It just doesn’t seem to occur to us that the problem may be in us. Isn’t this exactly what happens with Nicodemus? He hears Jesus’ words. But, hearing about birth, his thinking makes connections that lead to a nonsensical result. Rather than contest his own thinking, though, he contests the result to which it led.
Indeed, in that case, Jesus would explain it to him again, so that he could understand the real meaning of what was said. Yet, He would also leave this thing to be chewed on later, as Nicodemus thinks back on their conversation. Doubtless, he would recall that comment about the wind and wonder what it had to do with their dialog. What was the connection? Oh! But, he is dealing with the One who knows the heart of the man. It had not been necessary for anybody to explain to Jesus why Nicodemus arrived when he did. He knew the concerns Nicodemus had. He knew those concerns went far beyond this present visit.
Indeed, He knew what Nicodemus was hoping, what had prompted that man to risk it all and come see this Jesus. Nicodemus, I think, was truly hoping that Jesus was more than a prophet, that He was the Prophet, the Messiah for which the world waited. Yet, there was fear in him, for he could see already how his fellow members of the Sanhedrin were reacting. He wanted to believe, yet he feared for his life and livelihood should he do so. Here, in Jesus’ seemingly stray comment, I find comfort for such a man. Those born of the Spirit are like the wind. Nobody knows where their new life has come from. Nobody comprehends where they’re headed. Why? Because unless they have been born again themselves, they cannot comprehend the kingdom of God, cannot fathom the activities of those who serve the kingdom! It is as if Jesus had said, “You are safe with Me, Nicodemus. Only believe.”
Now, Nicodemus’ greeting does not give us very much to work on in terms of his thoughts. This, I suppose is in keeping with his choice of visiting hours. He intended not to be overly revealing. So, he says only what he feels to be comfortably obvious to all. He says that they – and we might wonder which ‘they’ he means – are clear on the fact that His teaching is from God, that He is Himself God-sent. After all, there are all those signs He has done, and these are clear evidence that God is with Him. However, history seems to suggest that there were any number of men who had gone about Israel performing signs. Granted, none were on the same level as Jesus, but we are yet early in His ministry.
This comment from Nicodemus also raises other issues. For one, if by ‘we’ he means the Sanhedrin, or for that matter if he means the whole of Israel, then they are that much more beyond excusing for His death. Look at that statement! We know You are from God. We know the signs prove this. Here, of course, he speaks of knowing intuitively. They surmise the knowledge from the evidence. If the evidence has already led them to this conclusion, one might well ask why they continued seeking signs of Him. One might well ask how the religious leaders, knowing that this man was at very least a prophet in the truest sense, could seek His death rather than His counsel. Is it any wonder that Jesus was so set against such poor shepherds as these?
Yet, what I really wonder is this: given what Nicodemus admits to having figured out from the evidence, how much more had he also understood? Did he at least suppose this might be the Messiah for which Israel waited? Did he suspect that something more than a prophet had greeted him at the door of this house? Certainly, if there was any purpose at all to the signs Jesus performed, they were to serve as an incontrovertible testimony to His divinity, to His unique position as the Only Begotten Son. After all, as Nicodemus had said, no man could do these things unless God were with him. One might well add to that that God would be with no man to do such things except that One Whom He had appointed from before the dawn of time.
Did Nicodemus’ intuition lead him this far? I think it must have. The code of the Pharisees, the code by which they lived, was strict. That code included their avoiding everybody that wasn’t a Pharisee. It simply wouldn’t do to be in a non-Pharisee’s house. Who knew whether such a household was abiding by all the minutia of cleanliness? What might one get on himself visiting such a place? Now, the Pharisaic code went well beyond merely declaring what must be done. There would be consequences for failing to abide by their standards. At a minimum, one could expect to be shunned by them if caught out. Further, one could likely expect to be expelled from their ranks, and for Nicodemus that would mean a loss of his position on the Sanhedrin as well. He was risking quite a bit to come visit this Jesus. I don’t think he would have done that for a prophet. No, as so often seems the case, I think far more of this conversation that Jesus and Nicodemus have lies below the words. Anybody else listening to the exchange would hear little to nothing of what was really going on, but Messiah Jesus, He sees the heart. He hears the heart. And, as His response shows, He answers the heart.
So, let’s look at His response. I tell you, anybody overhearing this conversation must have been shaking their head wondering what Jesus’ response had to do with Nicodemus’ greeting. I’ve heard conversations go like that, where two people are talking but are so caught up in their own thoughts that they’re not really hearing each other. On other occasions it may be the exact opposite situation, though. It may well be that those two are so fully in tune with each other that a great deal can be left unsaid, and yet no understanding lost. Such a conversation will not seem connected to a third party, and yet those two know exactly what they mean. It strikes me that in this case we have both of those pictures at once. For Nicodemus, it must seem that Jesus isn’t really paying much attention to what he said. It strikes almost like a candidate’s response during a debate. The question goes out, and something comes back, but you’d be hard pressed to identify it as an answer to that question. Yet, from Jesus’ perspective, the case is quite different. As Scripture says, He sees and deals with the heart. He has heard Nicodemus’ words, but more importantly, He has heard Nicodemus’ intentions. He has heard the unspoken communiqué, and it is to this that He responds.
What throws us is that His response remains almost as inscrutable as Nicodemus’ greeting, so much is left unsaid. Let me fill it in a bit. “I know why you’ve come, Nicodemus. You seek Messiah, and I know you seek from a good heart. You wish to see God’s kingdom established.” But, Jesus doesn’t supply this connecting thought. Why not? We could chalk it up to respect for Nicodemus’ concern for self-preservation. This is certainly in keeping with other observations, such as Jesus’ later comparison of the Spirit-born and the wind. The whole of this had to come as great comfort to this nervous seeker. It is also an incredible display of Jesus’ gentle approach to those who are near to the kingdom. As much as His call is to leave everything behind and follow Him, that seems to be for a select few. Here, I see Him giving Nicodemus time to come to terms with things. It was not that He would have accepted Nicodemus coming part way along and then going back to simple, dead Pharisaism. The heart He saw left no doubt that this was not going to be a problem. He was willing, however, to allow this encounter to be but a seed planted. It would need time to grow, and He was willing that that time be given. He also made certain that the seed was well fertilized. His words would not necessarily answer all of Nicodemus’ real questions immediately, but as that man took time to really think on what had transpired between them, the understanding he sought would come.
Now, I must say that if Nicodemus had come with nothing better in mind than to know who this Man was, if it was only about knowing, I think this exchange would have gone far differently. Indeed, the message that Jesus delivers in this first response could be taken as a warning against such a mistake. If we come to Christ seeking to satisfy ourselves on intellectual pursuits, intellectual belief, we will be left wanting. It is not that there isn’t plenty in God’s revelation to keep the intellect busy. The problem is that which Jesus states. Unless you are born again, unless you are reborn by the Spirit, you cannot really understand, you will hear the facts, see the signs, but you will not recognize their import. You may learn that the kingdom is real. You may learn that the kingdom is here. But, you will not enter into it, because you have not prepared yourself to become a citizen of that land.
Here’s an interesting thought, connecting some of what Paul would teach later. To be a Roman citizen, one had two avenues. You could buy your way in, or you could be born Roman. Those who opted for the former method, since the latter was not available to them, were indeed given the legal status and privilege of citizenship. Yet, in the eyes of the true Roman, the born Roman, they would never be fully accepted as Roman. Buying your way into their culture would not give you understanding of their culture. You might have the legal protections afforded by their culture, but you would not understand what had formed that culture.
You can see this same thing happening in America today, as well as in other countries. In our enlightened modern way, we no longer seek to assimilate those who seek citizenship amongst us. We no longer require them to at least begin to take on our own cultural ways. Instead, we require ourselves to bend to their cultural ways, lest they lose something of the country they left behind. This sounds so wise, so kind, and yet it leaves us with a majority of the population enjoying the legal status and the legacy of citizenship without having the cultural background to support the things that have led to that legacy. It’s not just us. Europe affords numerous examples as well. Just look at London in recent weeks. It was not, so far as we know, foreigners sneaking across the borders that sought to wreak havoc on that city. It was people who were citizens of England. They were legally part of the country, but there was no requirement that they become emotionally, culturally part of the country. No. They were left to pursue their own distinct culture, even though that culture was diametrically opposed to the culture to which they had supposedly pledged their allegiance.
Now consider Jesus’ words again. You cannot know this kingdom of God except you be born again, born into that kingdom. Only as you are begotten by the Holy Spirit can you make claim to that heavenly parentage. Here is the adoption worked out. Here is the mark and emblem of a natural born citizen of heaven. See, just knowing the kingdom is there won’t do. Knowing the law of the land won’t do. That, after all, is largely where the Pharisees had wandered off. What’s needed, though, is to be born into that kingdom, to have absorbed its ways, its reasons, its understanding of things from birth. What’s needed is that one is so fully part of heaven’s culture that it is one’s own natural mode of thinking, perceiving, understanding everything around yourself.
One thing that strikes me about this encounter is that there is no immediate evidence that anything has happened. When Nicodemus leaves he will remain to all appearances the same man who came. Yet, the seed is planted in him, and later events will show that the seed grew well. Now, I notice that Jesus doesn’t lay all manner of requirements on Nicodemus. He doesn’t tell the man that he must out himself in public confession before the Sanhedrin. He doesn’t even lay on the demand that Nicodemus leave it all behind and pursue the Christ whole-heartedly. He simply plants the seed in the ground prepared for faith. “Here is the one thing you must do. Be born again of the Spirit.” What is this? Is Jesus showing favoritism here? How come the counselor gets such an easy path, when the fishermen from Galilee were required to drop everything?
Well, one answer is that they were being raised up for distinct purposes, and therefore were being given distinct requirements. We have this terrible habit of insisting that God do everything the same for everybody in spite of the evidence that God treats every person as a unique case. He didn’t woo me the same way He wooed you, because it wouldn’t have worked. He doesn’t require of me the same things that He requires of you because He is training me for something else. That is not to say that there are no common requirements of faith, but those common elements are few enough to be summarized in this statement that Jesus has just made. You must be spiritually reborn.
Do you know, that really is the whole answer! It is the whole answer for a number of reasons, not least of which is that the rebirth by the Spirit must actually precede our salvation. Now, I know that runs counter to a fair body of belief, but it’s the reality. See, as we have discussed here, if we are not born into the kingdom, we cannot comprehend the kingdom. If we don’t understand the kingdom, how shall we come to choose the King? No, we must first be born into His kingdom.
In this sense, the reformed Protestants have the right of us in the charismatic arm. Inasmuch as we see the gifts of the Spirit as the necessary proofs of rebirth, we are in the wrong. Yes, this was needed for those first additions to the Church community, and for exactly the reasons that reformed theology indicates. The inclusion of the Samaritans and the Gentiles in the plan of God was such a radical thought to the Jews that they simply would not believe it to be true unless there were some extraordinary proof that this was God’s doing and no one else’s. For this reason, the wonders that announced the beginning of the Church were repeated. However, once the plan was established, did the gifts of the Spirit continue to serve that purpose of validation?
I don’t believe so. When once the Gentiles were allowed into the kingdom, the issue was for all intents and purposes settled. They didn’t have any great need for convincing when it came to letting their neighbors into the family. Yet, the gifts persisted. Years later, Paul is still discussing matters of the gifts of the Spirit with the established church in Corinth. He is approving of the gifts, in general, only concerned with their abuse. He doesn’t berate the Corinthians for continuing to use something whose time was done. He doesn’t accuse them of pretending. He only reminds them that the gifts are for a purpose, and when love is not holding the reins, those gifts are being abused, just as we tend to abuse the liberty of Christ by continuing in our sins.
Even later, we find Paul being met by prophets as he approaches Jerusalem. Does he denounce them as charlatans? No. He actually pretty much confirms their visions as truth, but then declares he is going on anyway. See, the gifts had not ceased. Their purpose had moved on from that initial settling of misunderstanding amongst the Apostles, but they had not ceased.
I must once again emphasize, though, that the gifts cannot stand today as proof of rebirth. Belief in God is alone the proof. Rebirth must precede that belief, that saving faith. How can we have saving faith in the Christ when our eyes are still closed to the meaning of things? How can we pledge our allegiance to the King if we don’t believe there’s a kingdom over which He rules? Who amongst us will seek out citizenship in a nation that we don’t really think exists?
It is for this reason that Jesus lays but the one requirement of rebirth, for that rebirth is the seed of faith, and faith in Christ is that thing which will save us. Only by faith, only by grace; the cry of the reformation. God in His grace sends the rebirth by His own Holy Spirit. He begets in you the faith to believe. He begets in you the eyes of faith, to see the significance of things around you in a new light. He begets in you the mind of faith, which grows in its ability to fathom the things of heaven, the things of His kingdom. He begets in you the heart of faith, to fall in love with your Savior.
But every seed takes time to grow. Nicodemus will leave this encounter appearing no different, yet in that encounter, he has been begotten anew, even as Jesus required. Don’t you see? No man chooses to be born. It is an impossibility. Why would we think it any different in this matter of the Spirit? You can no more choose to be reborn of the Spirit than you chose to come into this life in the first place. True, there are some branches of New Age belief that would suggest you have done just that, but they are patent nonsense. The choice is God’s, and thank God for it! Quite frankly, the choice of your coming into this life was His, as well. Far more is it His choice who enters into His family.
Yes, the seed of rebirth has been planted in Nicodemus, and in time we will see evidence of its growth. As that growth opens his eyes to truly understand, I have no doubt that he thought often of this conversation, and that he began to grasp the real significance of all these strange things Jesus said to him. See, the seed that Jesus plants, the seed that the Spirit begets in a man is imperishable. Isn’t that what Peter taught us? You are born again of an imperishable seed through the living, abiding Word of God (1Pe 1:23). That seed cannot die! Where it has truly been implanted, you can count on the growth to come. It is just that, like any seed we may plant in the garden, it will take time. Do you know, some seeds lie dormant for years, just awaiting the proper conditions to flower? Perhaps it is thus with us. We have both planted seed, and had seed planted in us, yet the planters look in vain for the sprouts. It is not that the seed has perished. God’s seed is imperishable. The ground conditions just aren’t right yet. Perhaps too wet, perhaps too dry. Yet, the seed is there, and it is no perishable seed. It will not rot. It will not be destroyed. It will simply await the due season.
Yes, Nicodemus would depart the house as carefully as he had come to it. He would return to his position on the Sanhedrin, and the effects of this visit would be so guarded that his fellows would continue to hold that nobody on that august counsel, indeed not one single Pharisee, had believed in Jesus (Jn 7:48). Yet, God now had His man on the counsel, however cautious that man might be. The truth is that had he been more forthright about his faith at an earlier time, he would not have been present to speak the truth into this counsel when the guards were being harangued. But there he was, reminding these men so proud of their great understanding of the Law of Moses that they were completely ignoring it in their pursuit of Jesus (Jn 7:50). They recognized the implications of this gentle defense of the Lamb of God. They recognized for the same reason so many can seemingly spot a Christian a mile away however hard they try to keep it quiet. They recognized the one with the seed of the Spirit because they themselves were bearing the seed of demons.
We can pretend it is otherwise. We can pretend that our great advances in intellectual pursuits has shown that such spiritual forces are the stuff of dreams and childishness. We can convince ourselves that we have proven the existence of demons false. But, we cannot produce the proof we claim to have. We cannot produce the proof because there is none. It has been wishful thinking on our part. It has been pride posing as intelligence. We’re too proud of ourselves to accept that anything is master of us. That is the great wedge that rationalism and humanism have driven between man and God. That is why thoughts of predestination offend so many even in the church today. We will not have any master. Yet, I look at these earliest leaders of the church and find that to a man they recognized themselves as slaves; bond-servants to the Lord Jesus Christ. He was their master, and praise God for it!
Paul said it well when he declared that every man is a slave. The only question is who has mastered you. The choices are only two. Either you have made yourself a bond-servant of the Lord of Life, or the Prince of death has forced you by trickery into his bondage. There is no third option. The only freedom of man is a freedom of the imagination. So free is our imagination that it convinces us that there is no master, that we are the captain of our own ship.
Let me say this clearly. Few, if any, go willingly to place themselves in the chains of Satan. The Sanhedrin had not held some secretive gathering and decided to give themselves over to the enemy. What happened is simply this: they became so full of themselves that God felt it best to move out and let them have more room. Their pride in their learning, in their obedience to all the little laws that they had contrived, has become so swollen that no place was left for the Spirit of God. However, when God vacated the premises, what defense was left to these men when the enemy slipped over the walls? Nothing. “Apart from Me, you can do nothing” (Jn 15:5). That’s at least a portion of why Jesus was so greatly concerned for those He was setting free. He cleaned house, but if the house remains unoccupied, those who have been evicted will return in force, and nothing will prevent their reentering (Mt 12:43-45).
We can look at that simple lesson and, if we’re not careful, we will foolishly make of it a simple little formula. I watch it happen all the time. Oh! He mentioned dry places. We must send all these spirits out to the dry places. Why? He’s telling us that’s the normal course of events anyway. They notice that he speaks of the house being left unoccupied, and feel they must invite other spirits to come dwell in that place they have cleaned. What are they doing? Have they no sense at all? There is only One who should occupy that temple, Him whose temple it is! It doesn’t need any spirit of peace, or spirit of calm, or any of the other myriad spirits that we have conjured up. It needs but the Spirit of the Living God, the Holy Spirit, our great Counselor, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty (2Co 3:17). That is what will keep the house clean, that and nothing else.
I tell you, if we have gone telling these spirits to wander in the dry places and then have invited these other spirits to come fill the void, what have we done but aided and abetted the enemy? Look at that text a little more carefully! When the spirits wander the dry places it incites them to return, it doesn’t destroy them! They have not been sent back to whence they came. Look. When Jesus freed the demoniac of Gennesaret, where were the demons sent? Did He command them into the wilderness of the Negev? Did He send them into the Sahara? No! He chased them into the sea! Well, then, do you see Him inviting all manner of other spirits to come visit this man He has freed? I don’t. What demons would you have Him invite? We can call them by whatever name we like, and we can convince ourselves that we are calling in ‘good’ spirits, but we fall into the trap of the Sanhedrin. We do no more than fool ourselves about our great understanding, and in our delusion we cheerfully place our hands back in the bonds of the enemy. Worse yet, we drag these others down with us. For the sake of those we seek to help, let’s get this deliverance stuff right! The house needs to be clean and presentable to the Owner of the house. It doesn’t need cluttering up with these interlopers. Oh! That we would stop treating the Bible like some necromancer’s text! Oh! That we would stop trading the religion of Truth for vain incantations!
But, let me return to the story of Nicodemus. We have seen the first shoots of a tender growth as he stands up for Jesus in the midst of this counsel he was so concerned to keep his position on. He would not yet confess his faith, but he could no longer remain silent. Well, we know that his stand did not change the course of the counsel. They went ahead with their heinous miscarriage of justice and put the Judge to death. Oh! How their possessing overlords shouted for glee! They were sure that in casting off the Owner of the house these men had surely condemned all creation.
This was the crisis point for Nicodemus. He could no longer remain silent. Indeed, I suspect that his stand against the counsel began before their sentence of death was carried out. Suddenly, the tender shoot of newborn faith was grown into a sturdy tree. This man would come, when Jesus had been taken down from the cross, and approach Pilate himself for permission to bury the body. Wow! Just think of Pilate’s reaction to this. He doubtless knew who served on the Sanhedrin. After all, that counsel was called upon to advise the Roman authority about things Jewish. He was almost certainly aware of who Nicodemus was. Now, he had just capitulated to the demands this annoying counsel had foisted upon him for fear of his own position. They were inciting a riot that only Jesus’ death would prevent, so to death Jesus was sent. This man, the representative of the famous Roman Law, the enforcer of the Pax Romana, had been forced to pervert the justice he represented in hopes of preserving his own skin. Can you imagine what resentment he held toward that counsel that had forced him to do what he knew was wrong? Can you imagine the fear that was on him, and rightfully so? Never mind the religious implications of his actions. The emperor, should he hear of these events, was not going to be pleased. He was already on probation as it was, for he had not been terribly effective in maintaining the peace. Why do you suppose he was so quick to avoid this riot? He knew it would be the last failure of his that would be tolerated. As it turns out, his efforts at self-preservation were in vain, as were those of the Sanhedrin. What is it Jesus tells us? “Those who seek to save their lives will lose it” (Mt 16:25).
So consider Pilate’s state of mind. Consider his feelings about this Jewish rabble in general, and the Sanhedrin in particular. With all that anger and resentment boiling, with his mind filled with replays of the events of the day and predictions of future woes to come, in walks this Pharisee of the counsel, this Nicodemus. What new tortures did this man have in store for him? What further degradations must he endure today? Yet, when Nicodemus presented his gentle request, how it must have surprised Pilate. Here he was expecting some new, belligerent demand, and instead he hears but a humble request. And that request seems to run wholly counter to what he had just allowed. What confusion this must have caused in him. Yet, what an opportunity he must have sensed. Here was a way to strike back, at least a little, at that counsel that had so undermined his authority. Here was one of their own, apparently turned traitor to their cause. Yes, he would allow the ‘criminal’ to be honored with proper burial. It was just the thing to get under the skin of those puffed up priests.
Now, John tells us that Nicodemus and Joseph had been believers in Jesus for some time, but kept it out of sight lest their be reprisals against them. These were both men of some position in society. They had much to risk if their reputations were destroyed. Yet, in this moment of crisis, they risk it all. Do you know what’s really amazing about this? The moment of crisis for these men was after the One they had secretly followed was dead. Now, if it were a wavering belief that had kept them hidden, would they not have abandoned that belief with the object of belief dead and gone? After all, even His closest companions had scattered at the realization that He was dead. Many who had followed less closely were doubtless berating themselves as fools and determining to get on with life. But these two men, who had perhaps the most to lose, rather than walking away from what none knew they had followed, stand up to be recognized! I tell you, this was faith beyond measure! Here was their Messiah, dead on the ground, and rather than decide He wasn’t the One after all, they show the full conviction of their belief in Him, and choose to come out of hiding to honor Him. Now, that’s Faith, that a man should risk it all for a Hope that lies dead before his eyes.
The very things that watered that imperishable seed in Nicodemus are the things that nurtured the early church, the things which they upheld as evidence. When Peter rose to preach that first sermon of his, he spoke to the people of the very city that had first acclaimed Jesus and then turned on Him, calling for His crucifixion. What would Peter say to this crowd? He would tell them in plain language what Jesus was telling Nicodemus in more guarded fashion. “Jesus testified to you by God,” Peter says. “The miracles and wonders God performed through Him were done before your own eyes. You saw it! You know that what I say of Him is true” (Ac 2:22). Later, speaking to Cornelius, Peter’s approach would be much the same. “You know that Jesus was anointed by God, filled with the Spirit and with power. You know He did good wherever He went, healing everybody the devil oppressed. You know God was with Him.”
See, those who were chosen had witnessed these things. Folks like Nicodemus, who knew the Law and the Prophets, who had been raised on the expectation of Messiah’s return could not miss the importance of the miracles of Jesus. Neither was there that intervening stretch of history for the skeptics to work with. It was not a question of wondering whether the Biblical record was accurate. There was no Biblical record yet. The evidence that was presented was not millennia old, it was a presentation of things they themselves had witnessed. In the three years Jesus ministered, it would have been difficult for anybody in Israel not to have witnessed at least a portion of what He had done. Thus, when Peter seeks to make the kingdom clear before their eyes, he begins with the things their eyes have seen.
It wasn’t “You’ve heard about what He did.” It was “You know because you saw it yourself. You were there when He did it.” What possible argument can anybody bring to counter evidence of that sort? This is the real power of faith even to this day. We don’t believe because of what we have read. We don’t believe because our parents raised us to do so. That sort of belief cannot stand in this day and age. The world is too persistent and too corrosive to allow such shallow belief to stand. No. The power of faith is unchanged. For faith believes in what it knows. We may not see the kingdom, but we know the kingdom because we have experienced it in our own lives. We have seen the things He has done in our own lives. We know who we were and we know who we are today. We know the impossibility of that transformation. We can clearly recognize that who we are today wasn’t even a desire of that older us. Every person standing in the Church of God today has a very personal reason to say, “Look what the Lord has done!”
When the historians and the scientists and the philosophers and the psychiatrists and all those other experts of disbelief come, they don’t bring proof of our errors, they bring only skepticism and suspicion. They come insisting that because God doesn’t fit into the framework of their thinking, He therefore must not exist. They feel it their sworn duty to convince us that our Book of Truth is nothing more than a collection of myths and fables. They come to serve in the pulpits in hopes of rescuing us from our benighted state. There’s only one problem. We haven’t come because of a belief in myths and fables. We haven’t come because of clever speeches and theories. We have come for one reason. We come because we know He is come from God. We know because we have witnessed it for ourselves. Our own lives have experienced the power of the God who is there.
Now, the truth is that these men of science and learning who seek to dissuade us of our knowledge know the very same things. They have witnessed the works of God as much as we have. They simply ignore the evidence. For comparison, consider the Pharisees. Nicodemus was hardly the only one among them aware of what Jesus had done. He is hardly the only one among them who knew the Scriptures. Every person serving on that counsel had the knowledge needed to understand what was happening, Who was among them. Every person on that counsel had a moral responsibility to understand what was happening. Yet, of that whole counsel, only Nicodemus was given to see what he knew. “Unless you are reborn, you will never comprehend the kingdom of God.” You will see the signs. You will witness those same things that the believers have witnessed, but you will not gather their significance. You will perpetually miss the point.
I have been in churches that have abused the notion of the Gifts of the Spirit in this regard. They insist that the gifts must be present to give evidence of the rebirth that Jesus requires here. But I tell you they are wrong. Faith in Christ Jesus is the evidence of spiritual rebirth. If you cannot comprehend the kingdom apart from that rebirth, by what reasoning would you ever acknowledge its ruler your own king? Will you really be ruled by one whose nation you are not a citizen of, indeed, of which you have never really heard? I think not! No. Apart from rebirth, you would never seek the Christ of heaven, for you would be sitting amongst all those intellectual skeptics denying the clear meaning of the things you witnessed around you. You would see, but refuse to recognize. You would hear, but insist on misinterpreting. You would feel, touch, smell, have every sense afire with the presence of God, and yet insist it was just some fever dream. Apart from Him, you can do nothing. Apart from Him you can understand nothing. He is all and in all. That is the reality in which we live. That is the deep sorrow of unbelief, that the unbeliever is so impaired in his senses, in his understanding, that he cannot comprehend the creation or the Creator; he cannot see the Salvation that knocks on the very door of his heart. “This is the judgment: Light came into the world, but men preferred the darkness, for their deeds were evil” (Jn 3:19).
Lord, let Your light shine. In spite of us, Lord, come. In spite of our darkness, shine upon us. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear, Holy Spirit! God, we walk in a land of false tongues, false speakers, false knowledge. Help us, Lord, to resist the liar who rules this age. Give us the strength, Holy Spirit, to stand like Nicodemus stood at the end, setting aside all concern for safety to declare our citizenship in Your kingdom.
Father God, I pray for anybody who might happen across this study, that has not yet understood the evidence that You have been setting before them. I pray that You would plant that imperishable seed of the Spirit in their souls, that You would water and fertilize that seed by the evidence of their senses, and by giving them food for thought in the deeper things of Your revealed Word. I pray this, for I know that the seed once planted must grow, even as it has grown in me.
Lord, I thank You for that growth. I thank You for the things I have seen happening even this week. You have given me the privilege of witnessing Your power still active in this life. You have shown it to me in those with whom I worship, and You have shown it to me in that most incontrovertible place of my own life. Thank You! Thank You for allowing me to be party to these things. You are indeed too wonderful for me, yet I will ever seek to be where You are. Bless Your Holy Name!
