Читать книгу Memorable Encounters - Roberto Badenas - Страница 5

In the Night

I shall be… born again?

Deserted streets stare in sinister silence as he pulls his cape partially over his face to prevent being recognized in the pale-white moonlight. Cautiously he steps out of the darkened doorway. Life in the city has taught him to distrust the shadowy portals, yet he prefers the darkness to the ridicule he will face if caught rendezvousing with the young Teacher.

Jesus’ peculiar style both fascinates and frightens him. No one has ever displayed such a powerful, independent personality. Who else would be so bold, so forward, as to chase the merchants from the Temple?

Nicodemus recalls the many teachers to whom he has listened in his spiritual quest. This man’s ideas do not come from any of the common schools of thought, nor from any known sect or political party. Jesus’ magnetic spirituality sparks Nicodemus’ professional curiosity. He decides that he must discover this Man’s secret.

But approaching Jesus poses a difficult and compromising act. Nicodemus has spent his entire life preparing to be a doctor

of the law. An excellent student in the rabbinical schools and now a powerful Pharisee, he is known for his knowledge of Scripture. He even holds a coveted seat on the Sanhedrin. To be seen consulting with this itinerant preacher would be to risk his reputation as a scholar.

Nonetheless, after careful thought, Nicodemus decides to meet Jesus at night in an obscure place. And in order to avoid feeling intimidated by a visit that could become too personal, he approaches Jesus as the representative of a group who share his ideas. Nicodemus does, in fact, have friends who look with sympathy upon the Galilean. But they also fear risking position and honor, and have chosen to remain in the shadows.

Nicodemus has reached the rendezvous. For a moment, standing in front of Jesus, he seems to forget his social status. At last he senses that he can allow his feelings of unrest to surface. He seems to

know that with Jesus he can admit the nagging feeling of emptiness that has been with him for so long. In a spirit of humility rarely seen in men of his class, he addresses this country carpenter as Rabbi, or “Teacher.”

The essence of this conversation, undoubtedly deep and engaging, takes only half a page in the Gospel of John.

“Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with

him” (John 3:2, NIV).

Taking no notice of the flattery, and dispensing with protocol, Jesus accepts His role as teacher and presents Nicodemus with ideas that will force him to revise his entire way of thinking.

Jesus begins with a challenge. “I tell you the truth, unless a man is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” That is, if you want your world to change, first you must change.

Nicodemus takes a step back. What does Jesus mean? It is true that many things must be corrected and changed in order to make the world a better place. He himself wants a great change. He longs for the Messiah’s appearing and for the liberation of Israel and a prosperous kingdom under the divine blessing. He has come to Jesus to find out how he, as a national leader, can accelerate its coming. Even his name (Victory for the People) reveals his desire for change.

But the idea of a new birth from above, of a new beginning,

stops him in his tracks. He does not see any relationship

between the desired change in world affairs and his own way

of life. A complete transformation, a radical personal change, seems not only impossible but unnecessary. After all, he is Nicodemus—honest, sincere, religious, respected, admired, and appreciated.

Must one really become a different person with other ideals, other goals, much higher than those held before? Cannot anything be salvaged? Is it even possible to break away from the past and begin again with better principles?

If he understands Jesus correctly, then he must abandon even the most sure and indisputable of his beliefs and ideals. Does this mean that religious piety, even devotion as faithful as his, will not suffice? That such faithfulness is not enough to enter the kingdom of God?

Nicodemus, good Pharisee as he is, believes that man can save himself through obedience to the divine laws. Is he not good enough to enter God’s kingdom? Must he admit that he needs a new life rather than new religious practices? Must he admit that he is a spiritual embryo when he has imagined himself upon the peak of spiritual maturity? Isn’t it all a bit excessive?

Nicodemus cannot comprehend what Jesus is saying. You see, every man is a result of his past, a slave to his family upbringing, his social background, and the unique circumstances that have, to a great extent, conditioned his responses. No one can forget his past. Surely no one can break with everything and begin again.

But Jesus insists. Not even the best heritage, the most advantageous surroundings, or the most exclusive religious education can guarantee entrance into the superior realm of reality that we call the kingdom of God. None of this is sufficient, because the simple reality is that we must allow God to reign unconditionally within us. And we all are so far from allowing Him this privilege that to do so truly means being “born again” or “from above.”

To be “born from above” is to begin to live fully. We are marred and limited because we are humans. We are not born totally alive. From the

moment of our conception we carry death’s seed deep within us. To be born from above means reaching the summit of human existence through the restoration of a lost spiritual dimension. It means shedding the thick skin that envelopes us, forcing us to see that our small world is not the sole reality. It means opening our eyes to the light of another, better world. It means discovering that by connecting ourselves to God even our finitude can be overcome.

Nicodemus feels dizzy, off balance. To accept and follow this teaching would force him to abandon his conventional beliefs and attitudes. Controlling himself through sheer mental discipline and struggling to preserve his point of reference, he sarcastically asks, “How can a man be born again when he is old? Can he enter again his mother’s womb?”

Is Nicodemus old, or does he feel that it is too late for him to start again? His rejection does not stem from stupidity nor bad intentions. Rather, it is the defensive mechanism of a man whose belief system has been threatened. It is the response of a frightened, yet honest, intellect. Nicodemus needs to test the new ground before stepping on to it.

From his human perspective he cannot understand how God can change a man and yet respect his freedom of choice. His private interview with Jesus will teach him that the idea of being born again is less absurd than that of trying to save himself by his own efforts. Jesus will show him that he can have an infinitely greater guarantee of success if he responds to the all-embracing power of God rather than trusting his own limited resources.

But at this point, Nicodemus does not understand that Jesus is not requiring the impossible but offering the seemingly unattainable. He does not yet realize that the new birth is not something Christ requires of him. Rather it is a gift that Christ is prepared to bestow on him, fully and generously.

In the spiritual realm the “self-made man” does not exist. We are incapable of rebuilding without help from outside. To begin from ground level is beyond our capabilities. To begin a truly new life we must first experience our own helplessness and our need for outside intervention.

Nicodemus does not yet comprehend any of this so Jesus states the same thing in different words. “I tell you the truth, unless a man is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.”

For an expert in the Scriptures, as is Nicodemus, the mention of water and Spirit is a clear allusion to the principles of creation. The new birth signifies a new creation. Thus the action is not human, but divine.

Jesus explains, “In mankind there are two levels of existence, the physical and the spiritual. Each can transmit only the life it possesses. The flesh transmits the weak human condition. The spirit transmits the power of God.”

To explain further, human aspirations reach no higher than economic well-being, family satisfaction, or personal prestige. From this level humans can never hope to become all that God has planned for them to be, nor can they overcome their own innate weaknesses.

“Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.” (John 3:6, NIV). Man can defeat his spiritual impotence only with God’s power.

The new birth Jesus suggests means entering into a new reality whose center is God and not the human. It means passing from a life of dependence, restricted and choked by human limitations, to a life free and open to all the possibilities of the Spirit. It means passing from the reality of condemnation and death to the vibrancy of new life.

Surprised at Jesus’ words, Nicodemus asks how this change is possible.

With irony Jesus forces him to look for life’s meaning outside the bounds of his religious upbringing. “You are Israel’s teacher . . . and you do not understand these things?” (John 3:10).

Nicodemus knows so much. Religion is his area of expertise. Living and moving in a world of theological argument and debate, he stands out as a learned scholar. But somehow he has missed the most elementary of lessons. He has not learned that the spiritual life depends not upon his own theological knowledge about God but upon his relationship with Him. He has not learned that it is possible for a person to obtain the high title of Doctor of the Sacred Scriptures without a personal relationship with the God revealed in Scripture.

“You should not be surprised,” Jesus says, “at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit” (John 3:7, 8).

The spiritual rebirth changes violent men into apostles of peace. Those formerly consumed by hatred can now forgive and love. The erstwhile mean, self-indulgent and egotistical person now volunteers his services in the most generous enterprises… One doesn’t need to understand the process of regeneration. The important thing is that it occurs, and for it to occur we must respond to the love of God in our hearts, constraining us to surrender to Him. The powerful energy of grace supplies the rest. No one knows how it occurs, but in a given moment it breaks into our lives and transforms us. The new birth cannot be explained. It can only be experienced. And not just once for all time, but each and every day (1 Cor. 15:31; 2 Cor. 4:16).

Suddenly, Nicodemus realizes the shallowness of his knowledge of God. He has tried to understand from his own point of reference, but divine creativity cannot be enclosed within the framework of theology. The fault does not lie in his sources but in his interpretation. The Old Testament is a continual lesson on the incredible initiative of divine love. But just as it is difficult for the materialist to imagine a reality apart from things, the legalist cannot imagine a relationship with God other than in terms of obedience to law.

Revealing his confusion, Nicodemus asks, “How can this be?”

These are his last recorded words of that night encounter. From here on Nicodemus silently listens to this unusual Friend. Jesus tells him, “We speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen” (John 3:9-11).

Nicodemus came looking for a messiah to rule over Israel. But God has decided to rule over all people. His Envoy will be king over all who wish to be born into a life without end in a kingdom of love without frontiers. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

If God loves without barriers and wishes us happiness without limits, His objective—when He sent the Messiah—could not have been judgment, as Nicodemus and his colleagues believed. The judgment is the ultimate consequence of human choice. The mission of the Son was to bring life, now and forever. His aim was not to destroy some and save others, but to bring hope to all.

Jesus prefers volunteers to pawns who are forced into compliance. His kingdom cannot be established by force, but by loving persuasion.

Jesus reads Nicodemus’ mind as he wonders, “What must one do to have this life? How can one be born again?”

Humanity, suffering from a deathblow deep within, needs only to grasp the new life as one with a serious wound pins his hope on any available cure.

And Jesus had the answer. “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him” (John 3:14, 15, NIV).

The human race condemned itself to death by separating from God, the only Source of life. Our only chance of survival is to connect our mortality with eternity. Our destiny depends upon our final choice: to give in to the Light of life or to separate ourselves to pursue the clouds of nothingness. There are no other choices. In some dangerous births the only solution is surgical intervention. So we, too, can see the light only through the intervention of the Surgeon “from above.” It’s a radical solution, but in just such a solution is our salvation.

“Whoever lives by the truth comes into the light” (John 3:21, NIV). With these words of hope echoing in his ears, Nicodemus leaves. This restless intellectual has found more than a teacher. However, though he exits marked forever by this disconcerting message, it will take time before he will act on what he has learned. His will be not a rapid “birth,” but a prolonged “gestation.”

He could have become a new man right that night, entering into the service of the gospel. Instead he continued to work as a lawyer at the service of the law.

Nicodemus waited three years before making his decision. Only when the Sanhedrin decided to arrest and finish once and for all with this revolutionary Preacher did Nicodemus finally risk himself in the Teacher’s defense. He waited, not for lack of conviction, but lack of courage. Too afraid of what others would think and of

how a decision for Jesus would affect his career, he admired Him from a distance. Nicodemus ran the risk of never leaving the lukewarm group which God will eventually spit from His mouth. He waited to declare himself until he saw Jesus hanging on the cross that terrible Friday.

Finally, remembering Jesus’ allusion to the serpent lifted up in the wilderness, he dared to stand and align himself with the crucified Jesus. When Pilate gave permission for Joseph of Arimathea to take the body of Jesus from the cross and give it an honored burial, Nicodemus contributed about 75 pounds of myrrh and aloes. Then, following Jewish custom, he and Joseph bound the body of Jesus with linen and spices. It was a final tribute to the One that Nicodemus had followed from afar, covering with perfume the wounds that his own cowardice had helped to inflict.

After his first meeting with Jesus, Nicodemus returned to his own world. But beyond the shadows, in the distant horizon of his life, an inescapable sunrise had begun to dawn.