He Lives!

                                       Luke 24: 1-12

 

 

          He had told them. Three times he had told them,

 

according to Luke. The first time, he said: “The Son of Man

 

must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and

 

chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be

 

raised” [9:22].  The second time he said to his disciples: “The

 

Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men”

 

[9:44]. On the way to Jerusalem, he foretold his death a third

 

time, finishing his remarks with a comment that “on the third

 

day he would rise” [18: 33]. But they didn’t understand. The

 

people closest to Jesus, the people who had been with him day

 

and night for three years, didn’t understand who he was or

 

what he was there to do. When Jesus died on that hill on

 

Calvary, his followers hid in fear and cried in despair.

 

          What a difference three days make! It was Sunday, the

 

first day of the week. The Sabbath was over. Mary Magdalene,

 

Joanna, Mary the mother of James and the other women went

 

to the tomb to cover Jesus’ body with spices and to do other

 

final burial rights that had had to wait until after the Sabbath. 

 

          The tomb was a hole carved in the rock and covered

 

with a large stone which was rolled across the opening along a

 

top groove meant to hold it in place. The tomb was hewn

 

to hold a man’s body, which would be placed upon a stone

 

shelf also carved from the rock. The tomb was probably too

 

small for all five women to enter at the same time.

 

Luke talks about what they found and what they did not

 

find. They found the stone, but it had been rolled away. And

 

when they went in, what they found was not the dead body of

 

Jesus, but the living spirit bodies of two men. From Luke’s

 

description, there is no doubt that they are angels. No matter

 

that the Gospel accounts differ on the detail, from one

 

man in a long white robe in Mark to the angel of the Lord in

 

Matthew to two angels in John.  No two eyewitnesses ever give

 

identical accounts of something witnessed.  It is not the

 

messengers that Luke would have us remember. When God

 

has something to say, something for us to remember, it is never

 

about the messenger and always about the message. Here, the

 

message is that flesh has been replaced by Spirit and that

 

the tomb is empty!

 

          “Why do you seek the living among the dead? ask the

 

angels? Why, indeed! Why did the religious rulers see him as a

 

threat instead of the answer to their prayers? Why did the

 

people think he was going to be the king they wanted instead of

 

the Savior they needed? Why was everyone expecting a man-

 

made solution to a God-sized problem? The dead reside in

 

tombs and Jesus’ tomb was empty! The angels heralded the

 

news that changed the world. “He is not here, but has risen.”

 

          The angels told the women to remember…to remember

 

what Jesus himself has told them on several occasions…that he

 

would rise on the third day. They remembered his words and

 

then they realized that they were looking for Jesus in the

 

wrong place. The tomb was empty.

 

          Place yourself in that group. You are one of his followers,

 

perhaps one of the women. You are loyal. You have followed

 

Jesus to the end. You heard of his arrest in Gethsemane and

 

you came to the temple court. You waited through the night

 

and saw him taken to Pilate, then back to the temple and yet

 

again to Pilate. You heard his cries of pain as he was whipped

 

and scourged.  You clamored to get inside the Roman

 

courtyard where Pilate presented Jesus and Barabbas. You

 

watched helplessly as the mob demanded that Jesus be

 

crucified. You followed him as he carried his cross through the

 

city and up that hill to the Place of the Skull. You cried as he

 

suffered and yet forgave his persecutors. You huddled at the

 

foot of the cross as he breathed his last.  Your dreams and

 

hopes disappeared with his death and for the last two days, you

 

have cried until there are no more tears. And now, you come to

 

prepare his broken body and he is gone. The tomb is empty,

 

save for two men so bright that your eyes must turn away from

 

the light. What does it all mean?

 

          Luke does that to us in his Gospel. Early in the book, the

 

angel leaves a young Mary to “ponder” things in her heart.

 

Mary Magdalene and the other women find an empty tomb,

 

and they are “perplexed.” When they tell of these things, all of

 

the apostles except Peter characterize their story as an “idle

 

tale.” Peter has a different take. His heart stirs and he runs to

 

the tomb. Looking in, he sees nothing but the linen cloths that

 

have covered Jesus. He goes home “marveling” at what had

 

happened. Luke has the characters, and us, pondering,

 

perplexed and marveling. They did not know what it all meant.

 

          In one of the most monumental miscalculations of

 

information in all of history, the disciples call the story of the

 

empty tomb an “idle tale.” Peter is the lone exception and

 

even he can only “marvel” at the news. The tomb is empty

 

and he is risen. An idle tale?  Not exactly. Two thousand years

 

later, with two billion converts alive today to retell the story, it

 

is known as the Good News, the Gospel, the greatest story ever

 

told.

 

          But even today, it is difficult to grasp the incredible truth

 

of Easter.  Most Bibles now have captions and headings to

 

explain the text. Look at the captions in your Bible for Luke 9

 

and 18 regarding Jesus’ forecasts. Chances are that they read

 

of Jesus foretelling his death. But Jesus words also foretell of

 

his resurrection on the third day. How do we fail to note that in

 

our headings? Are we more interested in his death than his

 

resurrection? Even today, we strain to grasp the message that

 

lies in the story. It is just too big. When we try to downsize it

 

into bits and morsels that we can digest, we distill it into

 

something foreign, something smaller than it is. Do we know

 

what it means, or are we perplexed or still pondering?

 

The story of Easter is the story of the resurrection. Yes,

 

Jesus’ death had to come. His sacrifice had to be made. His

 

love,  his sacrificial, unbounded love, had to be shown and

 

demonstrated for us to know forgiveness.  But the story of 

 

Easter is resurrection! He lives! He lives today! Easter means

 

Resurrection Sunday, and the very fact of the resurrection is

 

that God conquered death and that in that victory lies our

 

path to redemption. He did it for us!

 

          He foretold his death. He went to the cross. All true. But

 

don’t stop there. He rose! To know that he rose is to know that

 

the resurrection is revelation! The resurrection is under-

 

standing. It is no “idle tale.” The real story of the cross is

 

not tragedy, but triumph…and our salvation!

 

          Many of us still look to make the story bite-sized, but it

 

will not be contained. Many of us still look for Jesus among the

 

dead, but we will not find him there.  He is more than a great

 

man, a hero from the past, a role model for gracious living, a

 

person to be studied. The tomb is empty. The story of Easter is

 

that he lives. He lives! He is here and now. We can meet him

 

every day. We can experience him…not just study him. He

 

lives! And because he lives, we too can live.

 

          And the angels said: “Why do you seek the living among

 

the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember…”  

                        Who Is This?

                                       Matthew 21: 6-11

 

 

          It was Passover. It doesn’t get any bigger than that. If you

were living in the kingdom of Judah during the first century,

you came to Jerusalem three times a year. There was the Feast

of Weeks, the Feast of Booths and there was Passover. You

stopped working at your job. You took your children and your spouse out of school and their normal routine, you packed your bag and you went to Jerusalem. The law required that every adult male who lived within twenty miles of Jerusalem must come to the Passover. In addition, Jews from all over the known world made the journey because of its importance on the Jewish calendar. It was the celebration of the Exodus; the remembrance of God’s deliverance of the nation of Israel from Egyptian slavery.

          Those of you who are race fans know that Charlotte Motor Speedway fills up grandstands of more than 180,000 spectators for a major race like the World 600. There are many more in the infield and parking lots. The area just outside Charlotte becomes one of the biggest populations in North Carolina for a few days. A NASCAR race has nothing on Passover. Normally, Jerusalem had a population of about 80,000, but during Passover, it swelled to many times that number. Some thirty years after the death of Jesus, a Roman governor took a census of all the lambs slain during Passover. The number was upwards of a quarter million. Passover regulations required a lamb sacrifice for no more than ten people. Do that math. That equals somewhere around two and a half million people. Passover was the main event!

          It is into this arena that Jesus purposefully came. Matthew is ever faithful to tracing the connections between the Hebrew Scriptures and the story of Jesus. He tells us that Jesus sent his disciples to a nearby village to obtain a donkey and a colt, which they dutifully did. What followed was Jesus’ triumphal entry into the city of Jerusalem at a time when it was overrun with a population probably twenty five times the number it normally held. It was like arriving at the State Fair gone turbo and being the main attraction of the grand opening. The crowds were huge, the streets were overrun, the atmosphere was high drama and it was infectious.

          And then here came Jesus, riding on a never before ridden colt accompanied by the colt’s mother.  Matthew tells us that this was done to fulfill Scripture, specifically that of Zechariah 9:9, where the prophet tells Israel that its king shall come humbly, “mounted on a donkey, and on a colt…” Jesus sat on the cloaks of his disciples and the large crowd became larger. Many spread their cloaks on the ground. Others cut palm branches to spread in his path. The crowds went ahead of him, proclaiming him and celebrating.

           The scene is not unique. At least a dozen such scenes had happened in Jerusalem’s recorded history, from Alexander the Great to Marcus Agrippa. So the scene is not so unusual. The thing is, such a reception is one reserved for a king or a conquering hero or a ruler. What has Jesus to do with this?

The crowds were shouting. They called Jesus the “Son of David.” They said he came in the name of the Lord.  They called him the prophet. Matthew says that the whole city was stirred up.

Well, if the “what” part of this breaking news has happened before, and many times before, then it must be the “who” that’s important, and indeed it is. It was then and it is now. Son of David? A reference to Scripture and prophecy?  Prophet? A reference to another of God’s heralds?  The Lord’s ambassador? Such language was the language of pilgrims. Hosanna? The term means Save Now. Hosanna in the highest might have meant that some saw Jesus as able to save them.

Was he the Savior? And if he was, what did that mean? Savior of what? Savior of whom?  “Who is this?” they asked. The crowd received Jesus like a king. Of course, he knew this was coming and he knew it would be the key to his earthly downfall.  This made no difference to Jesus, because he was the one person in Jerusalem who knew who he was.

When the religious rulers heard of all the ruckus over this man, they fretted. They were under the thumb of Rome and Rome did not tolerate sedition. Jesus was a major threat to the status quo. Jesus was more than a thorn in their side. He threatened to disrupt a delicate balance precariously struck between religious and political leaders.

“Who is this,” they asked. Caiaphas the high priest asked Jesus if he were the Son of God, and Jesus answered in a riddle. He said that “from now on you will see the Son of Man seated on the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven.” To Pilate, the Roman governor, he responded as he had to Caiaphas; that is, he said only to their questions: “You have said so.”

Who is this? No one got it right. No one got it right on Palm Sunday, when they called him Son of David and Prophet. No one got it right in the Sanhedrin, when they accused him of blasphemy. No one got it right at his appearance before Pilate, when a government official played the political card rather than exercise fundamental judgment and fairness. No one got it right in the crowd that formed on the morning of Good Friday when they chose to free Barabbas over Jesus. Not even the disciples got it right. We have Peter’s example to remind us of our mortality and weakness.

Who is this? Nobody got it right that first Easter, but that’s okay. God planned it that way. That’s why Jesus came. Because we don’t get it right, at least not without the grace of God that surpasses all understanding, even unto a cross.

Nevertheless, and unbelievably, the question remains to this day. Who is this? Is he the Son of Man? Is he the Son of God? Is he Messiah? Is he Savior of all? There are billions of people walking the face of the earth right now who think they have the answer, and they are wrong.

Who is this? Prophet, priest, king? Yes, and so much more! He is us and greater than us. He is the least and the most of us. He is the bridge to God and God himself.  Who is this?

He is my Savior. Make him be yours too. That’s who he is.

                              Dem Bones

                                            Ezekiel 37: 1-14

             

 

 

          Yesterday, I was listening to a college professor talk about a study he and others had conducted. They rigged Monopoly games so that one player has most of the money and power from the outset. When they won and were interviewed about the game, all the winners’ responses had to do with various moves they had made. They completely ignored the fact that they had the upper hand from the beginning, that they were favored with more money. They said nothing about good luck. That same team conducted other similar tests to weigh the tendency of people to react certain ways in certain sets of circumstances. Their findings were very predictable. In fact, similar studies have been conducted by a number of famous universities for a period of over forty years, and the results never vary. Their conclusions are that people who are advantaged by wealth or power quickly learn how to take their good fortune for granted. Not only that, they fairly quickly lose their ability to be sympathetic or empathetic to their fellow man. Put in simple terms, they thumb their noses at those mundane rules of life that the rest of us have learned to follow.

         Recently, I was at a synagogue during Sabbath worship. It was very interesting as a Christian to watch these devout people, direct descendants of Abraham and Moses and David, as they read from the Torah. Their worship was moving, and yet as I watched and listened to the reading and liturgy from the same books that you and I call the Old Testament, I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of sorrow that these, the chosen people of God from the beginning, stop right at the edge of the grace that God has offered through his son Jesus. In the next ten days, they will celebrate Passover, while Christians will go to the cross and then celebrate the resurrection of the Son of God. The Jews are still a “works” religion, while Christianity points to Jesus not only as Messiah but as Savior of all mankind.

          Think about it. In the eyes of religious history, the nation of Israel had it all. They were God’s chosen. While we played Monopoly with the Iron, the nation of Israel got to move around the board with the Rolls Royce.  While the Gentiles were trying to scrape up the religious capital to buy Baltic Avenue, the nation of Israel was getting monopolies like Boardwalk and Park Place. They had the Law and the Prophets.

          And yet, Israel couldn’t get it right. First, the Northern kingdom fell and later Judah followed.  Rescue after rescue after rescue, from the garden to Sodom to the Exodus to Sinai, and yet, the more that Israel benefitted from a playing field built in its favor, the more it became complacent and the more it acted ungrateful and unimpressed. Israel acted just like the participants in the Monopoly study.  It was so proud of itself; it felt so vested, that it never could take the time to remember who it was and how it got there.

          In the 37^th chapter of Ezekiel, the exiled prophet says that the hand of the Lord is upon him, a claim he makes several other places in the book. Ezekiel and his people Israel are in exile and their situation looks completely hopeless. Not only is the Temple gone, but so are most of the people.  They are living in the lands of their victors and their identity is practically gone. It is to this backdrop of hopelessness and despair that God speaks through his prophet to his people.

Doesn’t this story have a ring of familiarity? It is the story of the cripple at the Sheep gate who had all the excuses about why he couldn’t get to the pool. It is the story of Nicodemus who, for all his education and training and wealth, could not grasp the power of God to transform the human heart. At the end of the day, these are not stories about people or places or nations. They are stories about God.  

Lucky for us…and the nation of Israel, that it is not God’s story. The hand of the Lord was upon Ezekiel and God’s Spirit set him down in the middle of a valley of dry bones. The dry bones were the hopeless, exiled nation of Israel, or the hopeless cripple at the pool, and even the hapless Rabbi Nicodemus who couldn’t see the power and face of God in plain view. God asked Ezekiel: “Son of Man, Can these bones live?” And the wise prophet said to God: “You know.”

Yes, God does know. God told Ezekiel to prophesy over those bones, the bones of a nation gone bad, a nation corrupt, a nation in despair. A rattling sound was heard and bones came together. They were tied together with sinew, then flesh came upon them. And Ezekiel is looking at a valley of people the size of a great army, but with no breath, and with no breath, there was no real life in these people.

Where was their hope? The nation of Israel had run out of gas, just as so many of us have done in our own lives. What could it do? What can we do? Read on. God said to Ezekiel: Prophesy! Call for breath, and the prophet did as he was commanded. And the Scripture tells us that “the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, an exceedingly great army.”

When God chooses to act, things happen. God chose to act in that valley of dry bones. God brought the nation of Israel back to the Promised Land. God brought them through many more watershed events in their history, just as he has with us.  We know now that God’s people are those who come to believe in him and in the life, death and resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ. What we also need to realize is that his power and authority transcend all things human, all things finite. As it was in Bethesda and in Jerusalem, it also was in the days of the exile. God can raise us from the valleys of our lives, from the depths of our despair, from the hopelessness of our plight, whatever it might be, by the simple breath of his Spirit. He did it for Israel, He did it on the cross, and he does it for us even now.

“And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land. Then you shall know that I am the Lord. I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the Lord.”

Do You Want To Be Healed?

                                                John 5: 1-18

          Well, if this wasn’t the craziest day! Joe and I went to get Will again this morning. We took him down to rehab. He wasn’t ready when we got there to pick him up. He doesn’t much care whether he goes or not.  I can’t say that I blame him. Year after year of rehab with no progress, nothing to show for it. He just sits there. He doesn’t try anymore. It’s like the light has gone out in his soul. He just passes the time. One day rolls into another. The days turn into months and the months into years.

          Jesus was back in Jerusalem for another feast. We don’t know which feast, but that’s not important. He was at a place called Bethesda, where there is a pool by the Sheep Gate. Invalids of all kinds gathered there, waiting for the pool to stir. When it did, they all clamored to get to it first. Legend had it that angels stirred that pool and that when they did, the first to enter it would be healed. It was one of those local legends that probably wasn’t true, but when you’re crippled or blind, you hang on to what holds out a little hope.

          It was just a freak accident. Joe and Will were at my house, We were shooting hoops, playing two on one. I drove for a layup and Will went up to block. We fell with me on top. Will couldn’t get up. The doctors never could say for sure why he never walked again. His spinal cord was okay. But that was so long ago. Now we are middle aged and Will has never walked. I feel guilty to this day. I guess that’s why Joe and I still take him to rehab.

          Jesus saw a man, an invalid. John doesn’t tell us the specific type of illness, but we know the man couldn’t walk. He had been that way for 38 years. That’s a long time in any age. In Jesus’ time, an average life span was barely in the forties, so this man had been an invalid for most of his life. Jesus asked the man a question: “Do you want to be healed?”

          I have thought many times that something is missing in Will. Who knows why he couldn’t walk in the beginning. That was a long time ago. He suffered a big trauma and for a while, it was understandable. But then it kept going. And he got weaker and weaker until finally, his legs were too weak to hold him up even if he could walk. At first, he seemed to try. At first, he seemed to want to get well. But after a while, he changed. He just didn’t seem to have any motivation. He got where he just didn’t believe anymore that he was worth healing.

          The man at the pool was almost condescending to Jesus. He explained woodenly that he could never get to the pool first, so he would never have a chance to be healed. Jesus said: “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” At once, the man did as he was told. He just got up and walked away. The healing took place on the Sabbath, and the Jews saw him carrying his bed, which was prohibited. The Jews had thirty nine Sabbath prohibitions and one of them was carrying a burden. Carrying a pallet was a burden, just like carrying a needle in your robe. This was sin. It was potentially punishable by stoning, so the man defended himself. He said he just did what the healer had told him to do.

          A woman has been visiting Will at rehab. She is a Christian volunteer. I’ve met her. She’s not a minister, but she seems very dedicated. She’s been coming to see Will for months. She is so patient and so faithful. She is always telling Will about how God loves him more than he knows. You can see her faith in her eyes and hear it in her voice.

          The man was questioned by the Jewish leaders. He didn’t even know who healed him. He never said thank you, never indicated any kind of faith. Later, Jesus found him in the temple area. He told the man to go and sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to him. As a thank you, the man went to the Jews to identify Jesus to them. In John 9, a thankful blind man defends Jesus to the authorities. Not here. The man turned in Jesus as though he were a criminal. This fella never got it. He was selfish, dull and lucky. But the story was never about him, anyway.

          Well, I said that today was the craziest day, because of what happened. Joe and I dropped off Will at rehab and got him situated. Then we left to do a few errands. We didn’t come back for a couple hours. When we did, we found Will sitting in a chair. That wasn’t so unusual, but the smile on his face was something I hadn’t seen for years. His friend was there. She was smiling too. It was so obvious that something big had happened.  I asked what was going on. Will looked at Joe and me, and then he used his arms to brace himself on the chair. In the next minute, I saw my friend standing up for the first time since we were kids. His legs were very weak and he didn’t last long, but he stood up. He even took a couple steps.

          Joe and I were so astonished that we couldn’t speak for a minute. Finally, one of us managed to ask what had happened. Will just looked at his faithful Christian friend and said that she had gotten him to understand that if he really wanted to be healed, he should trust God and wait for the answer. Today was the day when the answer came.

The doctor had been in and mumbled something about psychosomatic injury, and the woman had just laughed out loud. She had looked at the doctor and told him that Will had to learn that he wanted to be healed for God to act in his behalf.

          John’s story of the healing of the invalid at Bethesda had the same ending for the invalid as it did for my friend Will. As least, that is the physical outcome. Actually, the stories are quite different. My story about my friend Will is completely fictional, while the story of the invalid at Bethesda is true. It is Gospel.

The story about Will invites us all to participate in the kingdom by trusting the power of God to do that which we as humans can never do alone, even to the point of a physical miracle. That is a great story. In the end, Will trusted Jesus. He wanted to be healed in his heart and he dared to hope for physical healing to come as well. His faith helped to bring about that healing.

The story about the invalid healed by Jesus is also a great story, even greater than the one about Will, because the invalid is not our favorite character. Even the most charitable reading of that miracle shows the man to be full of despair and incapable of even a thank you. He is selfish, thoughtless and a tattletale. And yet, he is healed of his physical problems. The real story is that the power and authority of Jesus Christ is so “over the top” of human existence that when Jesus commands us to get up, we get up! When he tells us to walk, our legs will work even if they have not been used for decades! That is the real story of the healing of the man at the pool. And it reminds us of another Johanine story, that of the healing of the ten lepers. Remember? All ten were healed, that is all ten were made physically whole. But only one was made well, and he, a Samaritan, the least likely of the group just like the man at the pool. Here, the invalid is not only seen and healed physically by Jesus; he also is later sought out and found by Jesus, who reminds him that he has a second chance, that what can happen as a result of his sin can make the days of being an invalid look like a walk in the park. Even after his physical healing, Jesus is warning him, caring for him, reminding him that he still has to want to be healed to benefit fully from his encounter with the Master.

The fictional story of Will is our model, for we do not want to be the man at the pool. His lot was cast by his despair until Jesus used him to prove a point…that the power of God exceeds all human conditions and limitations, even faith. But Will is our model, for he wanted to be healed. Will came to see the truth of believing faith, and in that faith a miracle was granted.

Do you want to be healed? That is always the question. That is the issue pressing on every decision, large and small, of those who would be saved. Do you want to be healed? The answer to that question is the answer to our lives and our destinies. Sometimes we are lucky enough that the question comes as clearly as it did for our friend Will. Most times, it is much more subtle. Don’t be fooled by the difference. The stakes are the same.

Do you want to be healed? The question came from Jesus himself. The answer must come for you.

Laboring In Samaria

                                          John 4: 5-42

          There are great moments in history, moments frozen in our memories, indelible because of the electricity they generated or the impact they had. Everyone has such moments. Many are common to us. Some are intensely personal. Let me share a few of my moments with you as you think of your own.

          One of my earliest memories is watching a TV program where FDR was announcing the attack of Pearl Harbor, then the footage of the USS Arizona on fire in the harbor. Another was “the catch,” when Willie Mays caught a ball over his shoulder in Game 1 of the 1954 World Series. The two world events etched in my memory are John Kennedy’s assassination in 1963 and the 9/11 terrorist actions in 2001.

There are more for me as there are more for you, but you get my point. There are moments in our lives when something happens, either to our community or nation or to ourselves personally, that change our lives, that re-point our destiny, that influence the way we will come to every thing else in our lives.

          Now…imagine that you are living in first century Samaria. You are a woman, no longer young but not yet old. You live in a man’s world where you are barely a step above the sheep and cattle that the men around you own. You have not been lucky in love or marriage. You have had multiple marriages—five in fact—in a society which frowns on divorce or remarriage. Now you are living with a man. He won’t even marry you. Your future is uncertain. Your present is just as precarious. You own nothing and have nothing but the clothes on your back. You live in a land where women have little value.

          Even your religion is of little consolation to you. You are one of the half-breeds of God’s people. You are a descendant of Abraham, but you are not a Jew. You are a Samaritan. God’s chosen will not even talk to you. To the Jews, there was nothing lower than a Samaritan except one thing…a Samaritan woman.

          There have been no moments for you. No home runs or wedding feasts or other celebrations. There has just been one piece of bad luck after another. Here you are in the middle of your life hanging on to a man who does not even respect you enough to marry you.

          So one day, you gather yourself to do the same old chores you do every day. You walk to the town well to gather water. You have been there before today, but now it is mid afternoon and you need water to prepare the evening meal. As you approach the well, you see a man. He is standing there by himself. He is obviously not a Samaritan. You assume him to be a Jew. You prepare for the shunning that is surely about to follow. But instead, he asks you to draw him a drink. This is shocking. For a Samaritan to serve a Jew is to render the Jew “unclean.” As you engage carefully in conversation without yet acting, he begins to talk to you about living water.

          Are you there? Are you standing at Jacob’s well, talking with this total stranger? In the heat and dust of the day, he is less concerned about his thirst and more concerned about yours. Who is this man?

          Jesus had been in Judea, in Jerusalem, for Passover and was ready to return to Galilee. There was really no reasonable way to get from the one to the other without passing through Samaria. While this is a geographical fact, it is also a God-moment for the gospel of John. In Chapter 3, we are introduced to Nicodemus, a Jew to whom Jesus witnesses. Late in Chapter 4 and again in Chapter 12, we will see Jesus dealing with Gentiles who approach. Here, in between those narratives, we find Jesus witnessing to a Samaritan woman. That pretty much covers the field. It’s hard not to catch John’s theme of mission, and mission to all who will hear, regardless of their race or station in life.

          You are a woman standing at the well and this stranger tells you that if you just knew who you were talking to, you could have living water…that you would never be thirsty again. You look at him more intently. Who is this man? You ask him for the water and he tells you to go call your husband. You answer that you have no husband. Then he tells you things about yourself that he cannot possibly know, and yet he does. Where does this supernatural knowledge come from?

           Here John’s narrative takes a new turn, for unlike Nicodemus, who could not seem to grasp what and who Jesus was, this woman with no pedigree says that she perceives Jesus to be a prophet. She is already way ahead of Nicodemus.  She questions Jesus about the proper place of worship. Is it a sacred mountain? Is it the temple?

          Jesus says neither. He says worship is not a physical setting, but rather a place in the heart. He says those who would worship God must do so in spirit and in truth, and that occurs from the inside out, not from an address.  

          The woman listens. Something inside her is quickening. This man is so different. He reminds her of hope she thought was lost, of faith misplaced, of a time when she could smile and look forward to the day. She is emboldened, and speaks of Messiah, of how he will know all things. Her heart is alive. This woman is about to have one of those moments we were talking about.

          “Jesus said to her, I who speak to you am he.” She is frozen. Are you? What if you are there? Feel the moment. What have you just heard?

          Just then, the disciples return. They marvel at what they see, but say nothing. The woman goes into town. She doesn’t even take her water jar. She doesn’t go to her home or to find her man. She goes to the townspeople. Jesus has witnessed and the woman becomes his witness. She will not call her husband. Instead, she calls the whole village. She tells them that he had told her everything that she had ever done. Her amazement is obvious. She asks: “Can this be the Christ?” The people go to see.

You know the rest of the story. People came. Jesus stayed with them for two more days. What started out as belief because of the testimony of another became belief because of personal conviction. The woman’s plaintiff question “Could he be the Christ?” turns into a village’s testimony that “this is indeed the Savior of the World.”

It was a God-moment for the woman at the well.  Her testimony: He told me everything I’d ever done…was the watershed event in her life. She witnessed to it and became the herald for a whole village. Jesus works like that. Whether it’s a woman at a well or a kid with a few fish, Jesus calls us to witness, to plant the seeds. Jesus said to his disciples: “the fields are white with harvest.” We also have been sent. We are his witnesses. Like Jesus, our “food is to do the will of him who sent us and to accomplish his work.”

The labor continues until he returns. This is our mission. It can be done anywhere…in far away Samarias, in living rooms close by…in churches like this one. Like the woman at the well, we need to enter into God’s labor.

Born Again

                                          John 3: 1-15

In the third chapter of John’s gospel, Nicodemus meets Jesus, and probably not by chance, for Nicodemus seeks out Jesus at night. They engage in a strange and wonderful discourse that reminds us that to think and talk of things of the kingdom of heaven is to wander in a place in which we have no experience. It is a place where we come on faith. Even the faith which brings us there is not of our own making.

Nicodemus is mentioned only three times in John’s gospel. In John 7, people are coming before the Sanhedrin and asking about Jesus. As he is being roundly condemned, Nicodemus speaks up and asks why Jesus should not be given audience to see what he has to say. Later in John 19, Nicodemus shows up with seventy five pounds of myrrh and aloe—about three thousand dollars worth of valuable spices and gums, to use in the preparation of Jesus’ crucified body. Then there is the first and most important reference, the meeting with Jesus here in John 3.

Nicodemus was a Pharisee. There were only about six thousand Pharisees in all of Israel. Pharisees were hard core religious. They had to vow publicly to live by all the laws of God. Then they set out to do just that. The Pharisees, whether or not they were misguided, were the most devout believers of God in the entire nation.

Nicodemus was not only a Pharisee; he was also a member of the Sanhedrin. Think of this as the supreme religious court of Israel.1  Even in the days of Roman rule, the Sanhedrin possessed great power. Composed of only seventy members, it had jurisdiction over every Jew in the world. One of its responsibilities was to determine false prophets, and it was for this reason the Sanhedrin became so interested in Jesus. People were calling Jesus not only a prophet but the prophet, maybe even the long promised Messiah. The Jewish leaders had heard and seen such things before, and Jesus was more than likely just one more in a long line of frauds.

And yet here fairly early in Jesus’ ministry, it is Nicodemus the Supreme Court justice who shows up in the dead of night to seek an audience with the young carpenter from Galilee.  He wants to find out for himself what all the buzz is about. Why does Nicodemus come to Jesus in the darkness? Perhaps he comes then because it is the only time that two busy men can have a real conversation without being constantly interrupted. Perhaps it is because many rabbis studied law at night. Probably it is because Nicodemus does not want to be seen with Jesus in the light of day. He wants to avoid the publicity that would come with it.  

At this point in John’s gospel, only one of Jesus’ miracles has been mentioned. But Nicodemus says that Jesus must come from God, as no once else could do the signs he has done. Nicodemus is speaking in the plural,  so apparently Jesus has performed a number of mighty acts and signs. Nicodemus gives him credit for this. That is not to say that Nicodemus thinks of Jesus as the Son of God. As we will see from Jesus’ own comments to him, he just does not have the tools to make such an observation. Not yet, at any rate.

And yet, Nicodemus does come looking. For all the honors that have been bestowed upon him, for all the wealth and comforts that he has amassed, for all the respect that he enjoys among his people, he comes looking for answers. In that curiosity, that unsettling desire to know the truth, probably lay the difference between Nicodemus and most of the Sanhedrin.

The parties are polite. Respectfully, Nicodemus refers to Jesus as Rabbi. Jesus refers to Nicodemus as the teacher of Israel, which acknowledges his high office. Nicodemus then gets right to the heart of the matter. The things Jesus is doing can only be done if God is with him, so how can Jesus be doing them?

Jesus answers Nicodemus’ thoughts, not his words. Jesus says we have to be born again to see the kingdom of God. Nicodemus is spiritually blind. Until his spiritual eyes are opened, he will reach and reach…and still, he will not grasp the truth. Jesus reminds him that talking about things that come from heaven is hard to do for people who have never been there. Jesus has come from heaven. His unspoken point is this: you have to believe that I come from heaven. Those unspoken words hang there in the air, waiting for Nicodemus’ response, waiting for our response. You have to believe to understand. When you understand, your belief will make sense.  When you understand, the water is spiritual and the spirit is earthy and, well, you see, these things are of heaven. You just have to believe.

Contemporary thought gives little credence to that which cannot be empirically proven.  We are losing our ability to see that which is not physical. Contemporary “wisdom” tells us that we must see the evidence or something does not exist. By inference, if something is spiritual, it is not real. First century Israel was little different. Nicodemus says “we know,” and Jesus says: No, you don’t. It is not human reasoning or observation that is required. It is, rather, a rebirth, a transformation, that is required. Jesus says: You speak of what you know. You testify to what you have seen. “But you do not receive our testimony.” Jesus was saying that although he was looking at the Son of God, he could not see. He could not recognize the truth of what he saw and heard. He was the religious leader and he could not see. How sad.

Poor Nicodemus. How are we born again? Nicodemus wants to know. He tries to grasp the principle of rebirth that Jesus is teaching.  Three times, Jesus says to him: “Truly, truly.” Jesus wants him to understand, but sees that the chasm is wide. Jesus waits hoping for the pupil to grasp that which is impossible to hold except on faith.

What is this new birth? The new birth of which Jesus speaks is transformation, not alteration. It not only comes from God; it brings us to God. It is God-breathed. Jesus reminds us that as surely as the wind is real, regardless of the fact that we cannot see it, so is rebirth through the Holy Spirit.

Nicodemus will continue to search. He does not have the tools to understand. But he is in good company. Neither did Jesus’ own disciples. It was only after the resurrection that these men and women could finally fit the puzzle pieces together.  Nicodemus showed up after Jesus’ death. He was around when the news of Jesus’ resurrection spread. Though we do not know, I suspect that Nicodemus may well have been one of that number who came to understand the truth through transformational belief.

 You have to believe to understand. You have to be born again to believe. You have to trust that which you cannot see because your heart knows it is real. No matter how far we come, no matter how many mountains we climb, until we meet with the Master, we are still puzzled, still searching, still looking back over our shoulders while we climb that next mountain, seeking that elusive truth that will bring peace to our lives.

 Nicodemus was a lot like you and me. He was a seeker. He sought the truth and then tried to sort it out in his own life. Jesus told him it was hard to see heaven from earth, but there is a way. He had to believe…on faith. We are luckier than Nicodemus because we have the whole story. Still, we, like Nicodemus, must find that water is a symbol and that the work of the Holy Spirit is more real than flesh itself. It is God’s breath coming into our lives and our hearts. But first, we must believe. When we do, we can look into the kingdom and we will have eyes to see.