Love Lift Me Up

John 3.1-17
Dr. D. William McIvor
June 15, 2003 — Trinity Sunday
Presbyterian Church in Sudbury 

Introduction to the Morning Lesson

The morning lesson today comes from John’s Gospel, a passage very familiar to most of us. It tells the story of a Pharisee named Nicodemus who comes to Jesus to discover the truth. Jesus tells Nicodemus that everyone in God’s kingdom must, in that now famous phrase, be “born again.” Let me share some background information to help us wisely reflect on this text.

First, the text tells us that Nicodemus was a Pharisee. That means he was a very religious and faithful man and we should not think of that negatively. There were perhaps only 7,000 Pharisees during the time of Jesus’ ministry. But they had a huge influence far beyond their numbers because their faith and practice were beyond reproach. More than any other group of the time, Pharisees took following God seriously and were often admired for their integrity and devotion.

Second, we learn that Nicodemus was a ruler of the Jews which means he belonged to the Sanhedrin, a body of 70 men who were the religious, ethical, and political leaders of the Jews in Jerusalem. In other words, Nicodemus was one of the elite, a powerful man, a man in control.

Third, we are told that he came to Jesus at night. In John’s Gospel, night or darkness almost always symbolize that which has not yet seen the light of God dawning in Jesus Christ. Nicodemus does not yet walk in the light but he is searching and that’s why he goes to Jesus. Jesus tells him that entering the kingdom of God requires a person to be born again, something only God can do.

Fourth, the text also refers to an incident in the time of Moses. The book of Numbers (21.4-9) describes the ancient Israelites while they wandered in the wilderness. At a certain point they were plagued by some kind of poisonous snakes. Many people died of snakebite which was interpreted as the judgment of God on their sinfulness. They went to Moses for help and God instructed Moses to make a bronze snake and lift it up on a pole. Whenever someone was bitten by a snake, they would look up at the bronze serpent and they would live.[1]

Now, quite frankly, the story as we have it in Numbers has overtones of ancient superstition and serpent magic. But John’s gospel refers to this to make a spiritual point that Jesus will be lifted up — a prophecy of his crucifixion — and that in our looking to him on the cross we will live.

Finally, the text has the most familiar of all the verses in the New Testament: John 3.16. Martin Luther called it the “gospel in miniature” and in twenty-seven words it tells us what God is all about. Let’s read it in John 3.

John 3.1-17 (NRSV)

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?

“Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”[2]

Introduction

Quite a few years ago there was a popular movie called An Officer and a Gentleman starring Richard Gere, Debra Winger, and Louis Gossett, Jr. If you remember that movie you may recall that its theme song was “Up Where We Belong.”[3] It won the Academy Award that year for best original song. The chorus of that song went like this:

Love lift us up where we belong,

Where the eagles cry on a mountain high.

Love lift us up where we belong,

Far from the world we know,

Up where the clear winds blow.

[That song came to mind again as I was working on this sermon and I thought about having the choir sing it today, but then again … maybe not.]

Of course, in the movie the love that lifted up was obviously the passion of a man and woman in love. But John’s Gospel sings of a different passion that also lifts us up. It is the Passion of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. For when, in his Passion he was lifted up on the cross, we can look up to him and find the love that saves and heals. Our spiritual destiny in Jesus Christ is high and holy and the Passion of Christ lifts us up to it. The love of God lifts us up where we belong and I want to share with you a couple of thoughts about what that means for us.

ONE: God does not condemn

First, it means that God does not condemn. I read recently there are 3,525 men and women on death row in the United States.[4] They are under sentence of death — condemned to die. Regardless of how we feel about capital punishment – and that’s not what I want to talk about today – I think any reasonable soul feels the terrible finality of being condemned to death. To be condemned is a horrible reality and a frightening word.

For all his religious faith, Nicodemus felt strangely condemned. His life was sincerely devoted to God but he didn’t feel quite right and he wanted to see if Jesus could help him. I think we are a lot like Nicodemus. Even the most saintly of us carry within our spirits a burden of condemnation. We often cannot quite put our finger on it but it’s there: a darkness, a suffering, a loneliness, a fear, a guilt. Often we cope just like Nicodemus did but we also want to know if there is some kind of answer for the things we most fear, things that when we name them often feel like condemnation.

The good news Jesus told Nicodemus is also good news for us. God is not in the business of condemning. The gospel does not begin with God condemning the world and then loving just a few nice people. The gospel begins with God loving the whole world and entering it to save it from condemnation. God saves and does not condemn. The Spirit brings new birth and not death. That’s good news and it is what the notion of being born again is really getting at. God does not condemn.

Of course, a lot of Christian groups today talk rather loudly about being born again. They use the term as a test. You are either a born again Christian — that means a true Christian — or you are not born again and not a real Christian. In other words, being born again means being a Christian in a certain kind of way with a certain set of beliefs and a specific list of behaviors. Some of these folks who emphasize being born again will tell many of us who happen to be Presbyterian or Methodist or Episcopalian or Catholic that we are not born again. If we were born again, they imply, there are certain things we would do and think differently.

Well, I am a born again Christian and I don’t want to argue even with those who might like to read me or you out of the ranks of the born again. Without arguing, however, we still need to take seriously what the Bible says for Jesus’ teaching is very clear. It’s not easy but it’s clear. Being born again is not what we do, think, believe, or say. We can’t get ourselves born again just like we can’t get ourselves born the first time. To be perfectly biblical we must say we don’t know how being born again works. Nicodemus wanted to know how it happened but the words of Jesus are very clear. Just like the wind, we don’t know where or when the Spirit will bring new birth. For being born again isn’t something we do. It’s something God does. That’s the biblical truth about being born again.

“How can these things be?” Nicodemus wanted to know. He was confused. Sometimes we are confused too. Nicodemus’ confusion came about because he understood that if God is really like the wind, then religious leaders like himself were no longer in control. If like the wind God does what God wants, then religious leaders could no longer determine in advance what God was going to do or who God was going to love and where God was going to be. You see, Nicodemus thought he had a handle on God. But Jesus says God is like the wind. You can’t put handles on the wind. Nor on God’s Spirit. What a blow that was to man like Nicodemus whose life was built upon being in control! What a blow to any who think they have God figured out and that they are in control

It is, I think, our illusion of control that keeps us from trusting the truth of this text. For as long as we think we’re in control, we diminish or deny the power of God in our lives. Think of it this way. The lectionary pairs Psalm 29 with today’s text from John 3. Psalm 29 praises the power of God demonstrated in nature: wind, lightening, and thunder. In the ninth verse the psalm declares: “The voice of the Lord causes the oaks to whirl, and strips the forest bare; and in his temple all say, ‘Glory!’” (Psalm 29.9) Wind, lightning, and thunder strip the forest bare but those who worship God see these as wonderful signs of God’s power and shout “glory.”

I remember something that happened a long time ago. My high school youth group was leading a Vacation Bible School in a rural area of Idaho. We were camping out in tents and one evening as we were getting dinner ready, a storm swept through our camp ground. We didn’t think too much of the wind and rain or even the lightening and thunder until in a blinding flash a bolt split a tree down the middle just a couple hundred yards away. In terror we all fell to the ground and a few moments later when we dared to look up, spitting out dirt and shaking in fear, I can tell you that the first word out of my mouth was not “glory.” I don’t remember exactly what I said but I know it wasn’t “glory!”

When we are struck by unfathomable power which we cannot control and which we know can destroy us, the natural reaction is fear, not praise. Yet the witness of scripture, both Old and New Testament is, “Fear not!” Faced with the unfathomable power of God which we cannot control and which can undo us if God wanted, scripture says, “Fear not!” For God has come to save and not condemn.

TWO: God lifts us up

Let’s work with a second idea and that is God lifts us up. Not only does God not condemn but God also wants to lift us up and give birth to new life in us. God lifts us up.

Human beings do not easily take to ideas of not condemning and of lifting others up. You may remember from your history that Abraham Lincoln was known derisively as the “pardoning president.” He was loudly criticized following the Civil War for being too lenient with the South. Some historians have called that time an “age of hate.” Many were eager to condemn both the property and the people of the Confederacy and certainly did not want to help the South rise up again.

Fortunately, for both the South and the Union, there was a man of tenderness in the White House who was wise enough to see that what was needed after that horrible war was not condemnation but salvation. Lincoln’s attitude was not due to weakness or lack of firm resolve, but to a policy of non-vindictiveness toward the South. He wanted to lift up, to heal the wounds of what he called a “brother’s war,” and to get the men of the Confederate armies back to their homes and at work on their farms and in their shops. In Lincoln’s eyes that was the way to lift up the South.

After Lincoln was shot, President Johnson received letters from many people, saying, in effect, that Lincoln’s death was an act of providence and that a man of stronger conviction was needed to punish those responsible for the rebellion. A man in Ohio wrote, “We believe that Abraham Lincoln’s work was done; he was not the man to administer justice. He was always too merciful and kind.”[5]

Can we be too merciful and kind? Not according to John. For God seeks to lift up and not condemn. How do we know God lifts up? By looking at Jesus. The ancient Israelites apparently looked up at a bronze snake when they were bitten by serpents and they lived. We look up to Jesus and live. But the Jesus who is lifted up for us is not lifted up to a throne, to power, and to glory and majesty. He is lifted up to a cross, to weakness, and to suffering. And a God who does that can only be a God who lifts us up. Wherever we are in life, God is merciful and kind. No matter your past or present, my friend, God would lift you up and bring new life to you.

Conclusion

Presbyterians, like most denominations, examine ministerial candidates and test them theologically. The church has a right and an obligation to know if a person is theologically sound before authorizing ordination. Some time ago I read a story told by Tom Long, who used to teach preaching at Princeton Seminary, about an old minister who for 30 years always asked the same theological question of every potential minister.

He began by asking the candidate to look out the window. “Tell me when you see a person out there.”

“I see one.”

“Do you know that person personally?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Now, my question is this: Will you please describe that person theologically?”

In three decades of asking that question, the old minister has found that candidates tend to give one of two different answers. Some will say something like, “That person is a sinner in need of the salvation of Jesus Christ.” Others, however, will respond, “Whether they know it or not, that person is a child of God, loved and upheld by the grace of God in Jesus Christ.”

“I suppose,” the old minister once reflected, “that, technically, both of these answers are theologically correct. But it is my experience that those who give the second answer make the better ministers.”[6]

On July 29th I will celebrate the 30th anniversary of my ordination. That question was not asked of me 30 years ago but had it been asked, I hope I would have given the second answer. But I’m not sure. I hope I would have given the second answer because it takes John 3 seriously: the Wind of God, that is, God’s Holy Spirit, blows where God wants, across the whole world. We cannot control God and we should give up trying. But we can trust God’s amazing grace to not condemn and to lift us up through Jesus Christ.

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