John 3:1-17
Rev. Deborah Church Worley
March 8, 2020
White Rock Presbyterian Church
“Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him….” (John 3:1-17)
In case you weren’t here last week (or in case you were but have forgotten!), I’m doing a sermon series during Lent, called “Claiming Our Belovedness.” Last week I talked about “Embracing Our Nakedness.” I was fully clothed, I might add. 🙂 This week’s topic (despite what it says in the bulletin(!) is “Embracing Our Uncertainty.” I need to fully embrace my uncertainty when it comes to choosing a sermon title before I’ve written my sermon! I don’t know why I ever try to do that! 🙂
As some of you know, a few weeks ago I had my first performance review. Here I stand, still, before you, so I’m pleased to say that overall, it went well. 🙂 There was much that was positive shared both by the three members of the Session who formed the review committee, and by me, in terms of what we’ve all experienced together in the past eight months (already!) that I’ve been serving as your pastor.
When it came time to share any concerns, whether theirs on behalf of all of you, or mine, one of the things that I shared was a feeling that has skittered through my mind, in occasional moments of doubt or confusion or struggle over the past eight months; and that feeling is this: “Wow, I really don’t know what the heck I’m doing. I wonder how much longer it will be before they figure that out?!”
And this is not the first time I’ve felt this way. I’ve had moments of feeling not up to the task in other jobs. I had feelings of straight-up fear in a high school basketball game when we were losing by a basket with only a few seconds remaining, and the strategy our coach offered during our last time-out was, “Get the ball to Deb!” I had moments of feeling out of my league in college and seminary. I’ve certainly had moments of floundering and feeling insecure as a mom. Even as a friend, I’ve lived through moments of feeling helpless, and unsure of what to do, wondering if I’m doing more harm than good in my uncertainty….
But I take some comfort in knowing that I’m not the first person to feel this way. After all, I did not make up the phrase “Fake it till you make it,” so the idea behaving as though you’re confident and competent even when you’re not in the hopes that eventually you will be, existed before my insecurities and feelings of inadequacy!
I also take some comfort in knowing that I’m not the only person to feel this way. In fact, I suspect there may even be another person or maybe even two here this morning who have experienced these feelings–feelings of ill-preparedness, of not measuring up; feelings of insecurity and inadequacy; this fear of being found out.
I wonder if that’s part of what’s going on with Nicodemus in today’s passage. He’s a Pharisee, a leader among the Jewish people. He’s supposed to know what he’s doing. As a Pharisee, he’s responsible for teaching others about the Law–he’d better know what he’s doing! And he probably does, for the most part. But maybe not entirely…
Maybe he, too, was experiencing some of the feelings that I, and perhaps others of you, have experienced. Maybe he’d had moments of feeling like, “I really don’t know all the ins and outs of the Law like I should! I wonder how long it will be before I’m found out?” Or maybe he’d had feelings of floundering when someone came to him with a difficult question about a tricky situation. Maybe he’d even experienced some sneaking feelings of uncertainty about the importance of following soooo many rules….
But I imagine that he’d pushed all those feelings aside, perhaps even denied their very existence. He kind of had to. Because he was a Pharisee after all. He was one of the experts. He was a teacher of the Law, no doubt highly esteemed by the people, and rightfully so. He knew everything. Or at least everything he needed to know. Or at least he needed the people to believe that he knew all he needed to know. When it came to the Law, there was no place for doubt, no tolerance for questioning, no room for uncertainty. Nicodemus had to exhibit confidence and exude certainty, so that the people would respect him and his knowledge, and trust him and his teachings. And so he did.
But then there appeared this man Jesus. This man Jesus who was not a Pharisee, who was not a scribe or a priest, who was not even formally educated. But who somehow knew things… And not only knew things, but was doing things. Things that seemed to reveal the presence of God. No, if Nicodemus was honest, this man Jesus was doing things that did reveal the presence of God. And not just in the world around him, but in him. He seemed to have a deep awareness of the Law…but he wasn’t simply following the Law; in fact, he had broken quite a few of the rules as he did what he was doing! And yet, Nicodemus could see the Kingdom of God in what he was doing. Nicodemus could see the Kingdom of God in him. It was puzzling…and confusing…. He, this man Jesus, was puzzling and confusing. And intriguing. There was something about this man Jesus….something that somehow tapped into Nicodemus’s feelings of insecurity and uncertainty and inadequacy….something that made Nicodemus curious, that made him want to talk with this man….
And so he did. He went to him. He went to talk with Jesus. But he went at night. He went under cover of darkness. He wanted to find out more about Jesus…but he didn’t want to be found out. He didn’t want anyone else to know he had questions. He didn’t want anyone else to know he had doubts. He didn’t want anyone else to know of his insecurity and uncertainty. He wanted to find out more about Jesus…but he didn’t want to be found out. And so he went at night….
And in the darkness of the night, Nicodemus felt free to ask his questions. In the darkness of the night, there was space for Nicodemus to admit his doubts. In the darkness of the night, where no one else was watching, alone with Jesus, Nicodemus could embrace his uncertainty and ease the burden of that weight.
Because it is a weight. Believing that you have to know it all, or have all the answers, or have everything figured out, is a burden, whether in a job situation, or at school, or in a relationship, or as a parent or even as a friend. Whether we recognize it or not, living as if with certainty and infallibility, maintaining a facade of complete “put-together-ness” and unshakable confidence, is exhausting, to our bodies, our minds, and our spirits. Some of us might carry that burden more easily or more gracefully than others, but it’s a burden nonetheless, and it will eventually wear us down. Some of us, perhaps truly believing that we do know it all, having convinced ourselves that we have all the answers, stubbornly claiming that we have, indeed, figured everything out, those of us in that category may not recognize it as a burden but rather carry the weight of certainty as a badge of honor, and with a secret–or perhaps, not so secret–sense of pride. It seems some, if not many, of the Pharisees were in this group, perpetuating the notion among the people that in the life of a Pharisee, there was no place for doubt, no tolerance for questioning, no room for uncertainty.
But Nicodemus made room. Somehow Nicodemus had the courage to make room for his doubts and acknowledge his questions. Somehow Nicodemus found the strength to go to this man Jesus, in whose acts he had seen the Kingdom of God, in whose life he had witnessed the Reality of God. Somehow, in the safety and comfort of the darkness of night, in the very presence of God found in this man Jesus, Nicodemus the Pharisee was able to embrace his uncertainty.
Did his conversation with Jesus clear up all of his uncertainty? Absolutely not! In fact, it seems as though it made it worse! Hearing Jesus’s comments, Nicodemus’s replies, as you will recall, were basically, “How can it be…??”, and then, sort of, “It can’t be…,” followed by, “How can these things be??” It seems his confusion and uncertainty increased rather than decreased after talking with Jesus.
But it was okay. His confusion and doubts and questions were all okay. There was no shock or horror expressed by Jesus at Nicodemus’s uncertainty. There was no shaming. There was no judging. Well, actually, there might have been just a little bit of judging–when Jesus said, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?” (John 3:10) But I have to believe that Jesus said that with tenderness and compassion… 🙂 It seems to me that there was, simply, acceptance. Jesus accepted Nicodemus where he was. And–again I have to believe–there was love. Jesus, I believe, loved Nicodemus where he was. A Pharisee, a teacher of the Law, a leader among the Jews. All of that, yes. But also, simply and honestly, a person with doubts. A person with questions. A person wIth uncertainty. And a person with the courage and strength to embrace all of that.
Jesus accepted Nicodemus where he was. And accepting him, he loved him. And loving him, he continued the work of God’s Spirit in Nicodemus, teaching him and moving him ever so slightly closer to the Kingdom of God, ever so slightly more aware of the Reality of God, ever so slightly more open to claiming his identity as a grateful recipient God’s Love rather than a heartless upholder of God’s Law.
For God so loved the world…including Nicodemus…and you…and me….and the rest of the cosmos…For God so loved the world, that God offered–that God offers–God’s very self, God’s very essence, in the form of this man Jesus, that all, that everything, might see and grasp and doubt and experience and wonder about and be confused by and ultimately claim the powerful, relentless, unasked for, undeserved, and unconditional Love that God has for all of creation!
And so, in this season of Lent–and beyond: be like Nicodemus. Acknowledge your doubts. Admit your insecurity. Set down the burden that is the facade of knowing it all and having it all figured out. Embrace your uncertainty. Whether in the darkness of the night, or in the brightness of day. Go to Jesus, and embrace all of your uncertainties. There’ll be no shock, no horror, no shaming, no judging. Just acceptance. And love. And maybe some teaching, if your spirit is open to it. But I’m convinced–I’m certain, even 🙂 –that as you embrace your imperfections and your doubts and your questions and your uncertainty, you will be moved by the Spirit of God within you ever so slightly closer to claiming your identity as a Beloved child of God.
Amen!
Rev. Deborah Beloved Church (aka "Pastor Deb") 