Beyond Birth
Let me tell you about my relationship with my mother.
On July 29, 1974 she gave birth to me at Wilmington General Hospital, in Wilmington, Delaware.
And, well, that’s my story (and I’m stickin’ to it!).
Now, what did that tell you about my relationship with my mother? Not much, huh? Except that she is indeed my mother, and she gave birth to me almost 32 years ago.
But, that ‘story’ could diverge in a million different directions from there. The story which begins in a Hospital in Delaware could have continued on with, “and she gave me up for adoption, and I’ve never met her.” Or, “She’s been beside me every step of the way, and has been my biggest supporter and best friend.” Or, “when I was 20 we got into a fight and are not estranged from each other.”
The story of my birth doesn’t say anything about how good of a mother she is or how good of a son I am.
Does that make my birth unimportant? Well, no. Without that day in Wilmington General, I wouldn’t be here. And every year since we’ve celebrated that moment with cake, ice cream and presents.
It was a beginning. An important beginning – but it says nothing about how good, bad, deep, meaningful, or not my relationship with my mother is today.
Nicodemas, a probably good intentioned Pharisee, came to Jesus – at night. (Which tells you how dangerous it would have been for Nicodemas if he had been seen with Jesus.) He flatters Jesus and tells him how great he thinks he is.
Jesus doesn’t have the time of day for that kind of talk.
“Very truly I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born again.”
In their subsequent conversation, Nicodemas has a hard time understanding what Jesus was talking about (Born again? How does that happen?) – and really can you blame Nicodemas? Born again? How DOES that happen?
First of all, let me let you in on a little biblical secret: “born again” may not be what Jesus meant to say.
The biblical word used here for ‘again’ doesn’t just mean ‘again.’ It also means ‘from above.’ This word (anothen) shows up in the Gospel of John three other times, and each time it so obviously means ‘from above’ and not ‘again.’
Personally, I believe that this argument is settled once and for all at the end of chapter 3, when John the Baptist says of Jesus: “The one who comes from above is above all; the one who is from the earth belongs to the earth, and speaks as one from the earth. The one who comes from heaven is above all.”
What Jesus is therefore saying to Nicodemas, is that to become a member of the Kingdom of Heaven you must come from above – your earthly birthday is good, but it’s only a start. You must come from above as Christ has come from above. And this can’t happen on our own (we can’t just spring out of Heaven at our own will), it must be an act of the grace of God.
Here’s the kicker: even this (second) birth (this time, from above) is just a beginning. If Nicodemas got it – if he figured it out – if he was born again from above. . . and that was it. . .he’d have totally missed the point.
Being born from God is great, but if all you can tell me is that you’ve been born, you haven’t told me anything of substance of your relationship with God. Great, you’ve been born, but are you still walking with God? Are you still calling home (prayer)? Are you growing in faith, and love, and forgiveness?
You know, Zoë is doing pretty good. She went to the doctor this week for her two year examination, and the doctor said: she’s developmentally at the level of a three year old. (Can’t you just hear the proud parent in me beaming!)
But, as good as she’s doing – as much as she’s grown, if she just stops there, and she doesn’t progress any further, would that be good? If at 40 years old she was still only putting together 4 and 5 word sentences, was still infatuated with Cinderella, and was still regularly (and publicly) picking her nose and pooping her pants – I’d be worrying a little bit.
Why then do we think that our lives with God should be static? I hear it all the time: being pastor of two old and historic churches, I hear at least once a week from some proud soul, “I was baptized in that church.” They say it with pride – like I should be impressed. And that’s great. But, what have you and God been up to lately?
I hear it all the time. From some proud soul, “I walked up to the stage at the Billy Graham crusade in 1955, and gave myself to the Lord.” Fantastic. But, what have you and God been up to lately?
Dedicating our lives to Christ is right on target. Having life-changing moments of the Presence of God and altering the shape of our lives because of it is good. Coming and being baptized is great. But, if forty years after those moments we’re still at the spiritual equivalent of picking our noses and pooping our pants we’re in trouble.
At that point it would be difficult to say that we really have dedicated our lives – our entire lives – to Christ. It would be difficult to say that the baptism has any more significance than a high school graduation.
Now, don’t think that I’m preaching the Gospel of ‘more.’ There are times when I hear other preachers (and, to be honest times when I hear myself say) that what we need is to do more. We need to pray more. We need to read the Bible more. If we just did more ‘Jesus stuff’ we’d be fine.
When I hear talk like that I get exhausted. I get discouraged, and I just want to go and take a nap. What’s the bother? My life is busy as it is, and I don’t have time for ‘more, more, more.’
What I’m saying though is that we need to at least be on the path. We have to at least be intentional. When I think about my relationship with my mother I don’t think in terms of more, more, more. I want to call her every couple of days or so. I want to get her a nice Mother’s Day gift. I want to let her in on our joys and our anxieties.
Being born again, from above, is the beginning of our eternal life. It’s not just about Heaven, it’s about right now. We’re born of Heaven here on earth – eternal life with God starts now. And the life of a person who is born again, from above, is a life that seeks God’s face, asks questions of God and about God, and tries to align itself with the will and desire of God – so that God’s desires could one day be our desires.
And, it’s a life-long/ eternal journey. We never get there. We never get the answers to all the questions. We never fully figure God out. We can get glimpses. We can step into moments where we feel so close to God we could just explode with joy. But we never quite get there.
Take the Trinity for example. (Today is Trinity Sunday after all) How is God three and one at the same time? Is it like water: solid, liquid, gas? No, not quite. Is it like a pretzel: three loops, but one pretzel at the same time? No, not quite.
The mystery of the Trinity is just that – a mystery. It’s True, but we’re unable to comprehend it. But, we can grow into fuller understanding. We can get close. We can get closer to God where we can understand more and more – of course realizing that the more we know, the more we’ll know that we know very little!
But, we grow. Beyond spiritual nose-picking. Beyond date and hospital. We grow as people born of God – born a second time, from above – growing citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven. People on the journey. A journey where the destination is given to us, but the journey continues on past the horizon.
On July 29, 1974 she gave birth to me at Wilmington General Hospital, in Wilmington, Delaware.
And, well, that’s my story (and I’m stickin’ to it!).
Now, what did that tell you about my relationship with my mother? Not much, huh? Except that she is indeed my mother, and she gave birth to me almost 32 years ago.
But, that ‘story’ could diverge in a million different directions from there. The story which begins in a Hospital in Delaware could have continued on with, “and she gave me up for adoption, and I’ve never met her.” Or, “She’s been beside me every step of the way, and has been my biggest supporter and best friend.” Or, “when I was 20 we got into a fight and are not estranged from each other.”
The story of my birth doesn’t say anything about how good of a mother she is or how good of a son I am.
Does that make my birth unimportant? Well, no. Without that day in Wilmington General, I wouldn’t be here. And every year since we’ve celebrated that moment with cake, ice cream and presents.
It was a beginning. An important beginning – but it says nothing about how good, bad, deep, meaningful, or not my relationship with my mother is today.
Nicodemas, a probably good intentioned Pharisee, came to Jesus – at night. (Which tells you how dangerous it would have been for Nicodemas if he had been seen with Jesus.) He flatters Jesus and tells him how great he thinks he is.
Jesus doesn’t have the time of day for that kind of talk.
“Very truly I tell you, no one can see the Kingdom of God without being born again.”
In their subsequent conversation, Nicodemas has a hard time understanding what Jesus was talking about (Born again? How does that happen?) – and really can you blame Nicodemas? Born again? How DOES that happen?
First of all, let me let you in on a little biblical secret: “born again” may not be what Jesus meant to say.
The biblical word used here for ‘again’ doesn’t just mean ‘again.’ It also means ‘from above.’ This word (anothen) shows up in the Gospel of John three other times, and each time it so obviously means ‘from above’ and not ‘again.’
Personally, I believe that this argument is settled once and for all at the end of chapter 3, when John the Baptist says of Jesus: “The one who comes from above is above all; the one who is from the earth belongs to the earth, and speaks as one from the earth. The one who comes from heaven is above all.”
What Jesus is therefore saying to Nicodemas, is that to become a member of the Kingdom of Heaven you must come from above – your earthly birthday is good, but it’s only a start. You must come from above as Christ has come from above. And this can’t happen on our own (we can’t just spring out of Heaven at our own will), it must be an act of the grace of God.
Here’s the kicker: even this (second) birth (this time, from above) is just a beginning. If Nicodemas got it – if he figured it out – if he was born again from above. . . and that was it. . .he’d have totally missed the point.
Being born from God is great, but if all you can tell me is that you’ve been born, you haven’t told me anything of substance of your relationship with God. Great, you’ve been born, but are you still walking with God? Are you still calling home (prayer)? Are you growing in faith, and love, and forgiveness?
You know, Zoë is doing pretty good. She went to the doctor this week for her two year examination, and the doctor said: she’s developmentally at the level of a three year old. (Can’t you just hear the proud parent in me beaming!)
But, as good as she’s doing – as much as she’s grown, if she just stops there, and she doesn’t progress any further, would that be good? If at 40 years old she was still only putting together 4 and 5 word sentences, was still infatuated with Cinderella, and was still regularly (and publicly) picking her nose and pooping her pants – I’d be worrying a little bit.
Why then do we think that our lives with God should be static? I hear it all the time: being pastor of two old and historic churches, I hear at least once a week from some proud soul, “I was baptized in that church.” They say it with pride – like I should be impressed. And that’s great. But, what have you and God been up to lately?
I hear it all the time. From some proud soul, “I walked up to the stage at the Billy Graham crusade in 1955, and gave myself to the Lord.” Fantastic. But, what have you and God been up to lately?
Dedicating our lives to Christ is right on target. Having life-changing moments of the Presence of God and altering the shape of our lives because of it is good. Coming and being baptized is great. But, if forty years after those moments we’re still at the spiritual equivalent of picking our noses and pooping our pants we’re in trouble.
At that point it would be difficult to say that we really have dedicated our lives – our entire lives – to Christ. It would be difficult to say that the baptism has any more significance than a high school graduation.
Now, don’t think that I’m preaching the Gospel of ‘more.’ There are times when I hear other preachers (and, to be honest times when I hear myself say) that what we need is to do more. We need to pray more. We need to read the Bible more. If we just did more ‘Jesus stuff’ we’d be fine.
When I hear talk like that I get exhausted. I get discouraged, and I just want to go and take a nap. What’s the bother? My life is busy as it is, and I don’t have time for ‘more, more, more.’
What I’m saying though is that we need to at least be on the path. We have to at least be intentional. When I think about my relationship with my mother I don’t think in terms of more, more, more. I want to call her every couple of days or so. I want to get her a nice Mother’s Day gift. I want to let her in on our joys and our anxieties.
Being born again, from above, is the beginning of our eternal life. It’s not just about Heaven, it’s about right now. We’re born of Heaven here on earth – eternal life with God starts now. And the life of a person who is born again, from above, is a life that seeks God’s face, asks questions of God and about God, and tries to align itself with the will and desire of God – so that God’s desires could one day be our desires.
And, it’s a life-long/ eternal journey. We never get there. We never get the answers to all the questions. We never fully figure God out. We can get glimpses. We can step into moments where we feel so close to God we could just explode with joy. But we never quite get there.
Take the Trinity for example. (Today is Trinity Sunday after all) How is God three and one at the same time? Is it like water: solid, liquid, gas? No, not quite. Is it like a pretzel: three loops, but one pretzel at the same time? No, not quite.
The mystery of the Trinity is just that – a mystery. It’s True, but we’re unable to comprehend it. But, we can grow into fuller understanding. We can get close. We can get closer to God where we can understand more and more – of course realizing that the more we know, the more we’ll know that we know very little!
But, we grow. Beyond spiritual nose-picking. Beyond date and hospital. We grow as people born of God – born a second time, from above – growing citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven. People on the journey. A journey where the destination is given to us, but the journey continues on past the horizon.
posted by Fr. Rick Morley at 3:02 PM
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