Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent

The Rev. Dr. Matthew PottsThe Rev. Matthew Ichihashi Potts, Ph.D., Pusey Minister in the Memorial Church, Plummer Professor of Christian Morals in the Faculty of Divinity. File photo by Stephanie Mitchell/Harvard Gazette

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By the Rev. Matthew Ichihashi Potts, Ph.D. '13
Pusey Minister in the Memorial Church
Plummer Professor of Christian Morals in the Faculty of Divinity

(The following is a transcript of the service audio, March 5, 2023)

That verse that's on poster boards at football games, John 3:16, that's our lesson today. For many Christians, a good summary of the mission of Jesus, of the message of Jesus, that's why it's on those poster boards and why it's at those football games. And it's a good summary, don't get me wrong. But, I also think that abstract it from this encounter with Nicodemus, we lose something of its force. And so, what I'm going to try to do this morning is no longer abstract it from this encounter with Nicodemus. This encounter with Nicodemus, this meeting between Nicodemus and Jesus is very early in the Gospel of John. It's right at the beginning of Jesus' ministry. You can see it's John three, right?

The story of Jesus' ministry in the Gospel of John is different than the other three gospels. Jesus begins his ministry in John the first thing he does is he goes to a wedding and he makes some wine. And then, the next thing he does is he goes to the temple in Jerusalem and he overturns all the tables, and he starts yelling at everybody, calling them thieves. That's one of the first things he does. The first really public thing he does in the Gospel of John. It's the last thing he does in every other gospel. Matthew, Mark, and Luke. It's the last thing he does before he's arrested. And John, it's the first thing he does. And he makes a whole bunch of people angry by doing this.

You can imagine if someone goes into the temple and calls everybody a thief, and turns over all the tables, and accuses them of these terrible things, they're all upset at him. Who's upset at him? The religious leaders of various kinds. There were lots of different sorts of religious leaders. The Pharisees, the council. These folks are provoked by Jesus and Jesus was trying to provoke them. It had the effect that he wanted. And this encounter between Nicodemus and Jesus happens right after that.

Who is Nicodemus? First, we're told here that Nicodemus is a Pharisee, one of these people Jesus is meant to have provoked and irritated. That's who Nicodemus is. In our tradition, we have and it's in the gospels, there's this kind of sense of conflict between the Pharisees and Jesus. But, in fact, the Pharisees taught many similar things to what Jesus was saying. And we know that there were Pharisees like Nicodemus with whom Jesus was friendly. At least they were friendly with him. I'm not sure how friendly Jesus is in this encounter.

Nicodemus was a Pharisee. We also know that it says in the gospel that he was a leader among the people. He may have been on the council or was very influential among people on the council. He was one of the elites. These people that Jesus came to speak against or to speak to, the tables he was overthrowing, this is Nicodemus. And Nicodemus comes to him and he comes at great risk. We know he comes at great risk because he comes in the middle of the night. Nicodemus says to Jesus, "We know you're from God because no one could do these things that you do if they were not from God."

The only thing he's done is go into the temple and cause a ruckus. So, this is what Nicodemus is talking about. Nicodemus is revealing himself as an ally, as a person who understands what Jesus is saying and is sympathetic to it. Bringing with him the Pharisaic tradition, bringing with him that Jewish tradition that Jesus also shares and saying, "Yes, I hear what you're saying. Let's talk more. Help me learn from you. Maybe we can learn from each other." He comes generously in the night. And to put it mildly, Jesus is frustrating. Abstruse almost, almost deliberately confusing to Nicodemus.

Nicodemus asks a fairly straightforward question and Jesus starts popping off about all kinds of things. And then, Nicodemus asks another question. "How can we be born again?" And I don't think Nicodemus is thick. I think it's kind of a rhetorical question. He's saying, "Well, obviously you don't mean we're going to once again enter our mother's womb. So, what do you mean by being born again?" And then, Jesus just keeps going and starts talking about serpents and the wilderness, and all kinds of things, right? Deliberately confusing, not answering the question.

I think the inclination among us in the Christian tradition is to interpret Nicodemus because we have this narrative within the gospels of the Pharisees as opponents. We interpret Nicodemus to be the one deliberately not understanding, Nicodemus to be the one causing problems. But if you read this exchange, Jesus is causing the problems to Nicodemus, to this man who comes to Jesus asking honest questions. But as I said, Jesus finishes this kind of discourse at Nicodemus with the line "For God so loved the world, that God sent God's only son into the world not to condemn the world but to love it, to save it and to love it." Not to condemn, but to save. Not to condemn, but to love. And despite Jesus' sort of barb, that "Are you a teacher of Israel," I'm going to suggest that we will learn a great deal from this teacher of Israel, Nicodemus, about the relationship between condemnation and love, maybe especially in our own Christian tradition, if we pay closer and better attention to Nicodemus, the Pharisee.

Nicodemus is not just a straw man in this exchange. He's not just a prop. He's not just like a character that shows up for a moment and then goes away in the Gospel of John. In fact, Nicodemus returns to the Gospel of John. He shows up again in the 19th chapter of John right at the end of this story, because it is Nicodemus, with the other council member, Joseph of Arimathea, who collects Jesus's body after his death. And it says specifically, it's Nicodemus who spends a large amount of money to buy the necessary myrrh and aloes to prepare Jesus' body for burial. It is Nicodemus who takes that body and cleans it, cleans the wounds and anoints it for burial.

This terrible thing that he did for this man who was so frustratingly difficult to him but this remarkably loving thing and risky thing that Nicodemus did for Jesus. And he finds it to him and he buries Jesus. The ones who knew Jesus best, Peter and James and John, the ones who on the way to Jerusalem are arguing with one another about who is greatest, who will inherit Jesus' kingdom, they are nowhere to be seen. The gospel tells us they're all hiding. But Nicodemus, who did not know Jesus, Nicodemus, the Pharisee, Nicodemus, the one who was confused and perplexed by Jesus, the one who Jesus seemed deliberately to confuse and perplex, he is the one who returns.

He is the one courageous enough to love, and he is courageous to love not because he got all the answers right on any quiz that Jesus ever gave. And it's not because he converted whatever that would've meant at the time because Jesus was Jewish too. Of course, Nicodemus was still a Pharisee. He's still part of the council. Nicodemus barely knew Jesus. He didn't understand Jesus. But, Nicodemus is the one, the one with the most to lose, who goes and risks and loves. Not for a reward. He didn't expect a reward. Not for a resurrection. He certainly didn't expect a resurrection. He takes the body and cleans it, and anoints it, and buries it for no other reason than to respect the dignity and to love this man, this utterly confounding man who had just died as a criminal.

I think we Christians often tend to think about faith as if it is an exercise of knowledge and understanding. I'm trained as a theologian. And if you look at the history of Christian theology, it's a lot of people shouting at each other about how we know better than you. Our knowledge is better than your knowledge. And sometimes, your knowledge is so bad that we have to condemn you and persecute you. Often, your knowledge is so bad and we know so much better than you that you deserve to feel our sword. There is a long Christian tradition, a regrettably long one of condemning that which we do not understand, condemning other religions. And there are present versions of it in our contemporary culture. You don't need to look very far to see anti-trans legislation arising in states around this country.

Christians hasty to condemn that which they do not know or understand, but that's not what love is. That's not the love Nicodemus shows when he's confused every step and has every reason to condemn this man Jesus, but instead tries to love him, tries to love this man he does not understand. That's not what Jesus does in this gospel and in the others when Jesus reaches out to Romans and to Samaritans, and to outcasts, and to enemies. And that's not what God does, at least not as Jesus describes it here when God sends God's son into the world, not to condemn the world, but to love it.

Think of those you love most in your own life. Do you understand them? Sometimes, I do. Sometimes, they mystify me more than anybody else. Or even when I do understand them, I can't make solid predictions upon what will be tomorrow or the day after that, or the day after that. I can't really know. My love is not a form of knowledge. Certainty is a terribly poor instrument. Love is not an exercise of knowledge. Love is not an exercise of certainty. Love is how we live with uncertainty. Love means knowing that you don't know. It means understanding that you can't understand. And it's saying that "Even though I don't know, even though I can't understand, even though the future is filled with risk and with mystery, the one thing I can say today is that I love you and that I will love you tomorrow, and the day after that. Also, come what may."

This is what we say or what we ought to say to the people we love most, whether we understand them or not. This is what we ought to say to the people the world understands the least and whom the world loves the least. And this is what I imagine Nicodemus saying as he cleans the body of this mysterious rabbi and prepares it for burial in the 19th chapter of John. Because, it's also what Jesus here says to us as he moves toward his own death. "I will love you. Come what may, I will love you. Whatever happens, even when you are difficult to understand, I will not condemn you. I will not condemn you. I will love." This is the way of the Pharisee Nicodemus. This is the way of discipleship. This lent and always, may it be our way as well.