Saturday, March 11, 2017

Second Sunday in Lent: Sermon


Genesis 12:1-4a; Psalm 121; Romans 4:1-5, 13-17; John 3:1-17

“God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

This is the final sentence in our Gospel, and it’s one that is often overlooked in favor of the one before it.  You’ve probably heard that one a lot, or heard it referred to in signs at football games, or on lawns, or bumper stickers.  That verse says that God loved the world, but seems to say that only those who believe in him will have eternal life.  The others, we hear, will burn in hell.

I’ve been reading Love Wins, by Rob Bell.  He paraphrases the traditional understanding of God’s love and judgment this way:

“God loves us.
God offers us everlasting life by grace, freely, through no merit on our part.
Unless you do not respond the right way.
Then God will torture you forever.
In hell.”

And he asks, “Huh?”  Like, what did I miss here?

That understanding, that misunderstanding, is not what Jesus taught.  That doctrine has more to do with scaring us into being obedient than it does with God’s love and grace.  And it backfires all the time.

Some people who are good and loving spend their lives in fear that they are not good enough, and so will end up in hell.
Some people who think they are saved tell others that they are going to hell.
And some people who might well follow Jesus more deeply are turned off by what they hear from Christians, and they miss the chance to experience God’s love as we know it in Jesus.

What do we need to do to move beyond that misunderstanding?

We can try to accept God’s love and grace all the way down.

David Lose notes that it helps to see that the Greek word for “world” – kosmos – is used in John’s Gospel to name an entity that is hostile to God (see, for instance, John 15:18-25; 16:8-10, 20, 33; and 17:9-16).  It’s not creation alone that is loved, not the good or “natural” parts; it’s the whole thing, and especially the messed-up, God-hating part.  So we might actually translate these verses, “For God so loved the God-hating world, that he gave his only Son…” and “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn even this world that despises God but instead so that the world that rejects God might still be saved through him.” 

This is so counter to the way our minds and hearts usually work.  We believe in judgment, in penalties and rewards, and so we expect God to work like that.  But God leaves us free to judge, and to live with the consequences.  God does not reward or penalize, God does not catch us for judgment.  God loves us, and helps us if we turn to God.  It’s a crazy, scandalous God that Jesus shows us.


We can let ourselves be born again.
Oh, those scary words!  Along with verse 16, this phrase has become the property to certain groups who interpret this in a way that leaves many faithful disciples out in the cold.  

But we have to claim it.  It is our heritage, our inheritance.
If we put aside the associations around this phrase, we can see a lot of possibility.  If we are born again, it is God who is giving birth.  The hard work of birth is God’s, not ours.  We do not have to try to be born again; we have to let ourselves be born again.  All we have to do is relax and stop fighting, stop squirming and twisting.

Now, once we’re out things get scary.  Suddenly we move from darkness to light, and it is blinding.  Being born again means open to learning, starting over.  We don’t have the skills or experience to be in this new world.  We can indeed feel as though we are simply blown around by forces we can’t see.  We are beginners.  It’s not surprising that we would resist.

Nicodemus is still in the womb.  In the world he knows he is a teacher, a respected leader.  When he talks to Jesus he is confused.  He finds himself at the back of the class, a strange place for him.  Jesus speaks in a way that he doesn’t understand.  I wouldn't blame him for not coming back.  The womb is comfortable.

Until it’s not.  When it’s time to go, it’s time to go.  Delay can be fatal for the baby, and for the mother.  And in time, Nicodemus will come out into the light.  He will begin to speak up for Jesus, and in the end he will bury him.  He will let himself be seen as foolish, as unsure, as part of a scandalous movement gathered around a crucified Messiah.  And he will know what it is to live in the light.

What would it look like here and now to be born again?  How would your life be different?

It would likely be less secure in some ways.  You might lose your bearings, might lose some friends.
In other ways it might be much more secure.  If we can really ground ourselves in God’s love, if we can really take in that God’s love is unconditional and trustworthy, we can stand in the wind without fear.
Belief isn't about our minds, it's about what we do with our lives.  Believing in God, believing in Jesus means trust and reliance.  It means standing in that love and sharing it with others, not as a duty but as a delight.

We are all bearers of God’s word.  We are all theologians, people who think about God.  Our ideas about God shape what we do with our lives and how we treat others.  What message do you want to carry into the world?

God so loved the world, in all its mess and confusion, that God came and lived and died among us.  God loves us, each and every one, enough to birth us as many times as needed to bring us to life.


Come to the light.  Tell others what you find.  

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