On Ash Wednesday I preached a sermon that included a story about my grandmother startling all her noisy grandchildren into this silent tension by popping her dentures out at us – dentures none of us knew she even had. I don’t regret telling the story. It got a laugh and (hopefully) brought us into the theme of the sermon.
But I must admit I heard something the days following that sermon. Something no one else heard, I am sure, but it was there – I assure you. The noise grew loud enough to be distracting. It was this creaking, groaning, splintering, scratching in my mind. It even woke me one night and tossing and turning in my bed, I figured out what this noise was……
It was the sound of my grandmother turning over in her grave. You see, she’s buried in Southern Indiana next to my grandfather (her husband of over 50 years) in a family cemetery stretching back generations.
And, as soon as I figured out what the noise was – I heard their voices.
Jared…how could you tell that story!?! How embarrassing!
To which my grandfather replied by laughing…and loudly. (Say what you will about the health detriments of a lifetime of smoking cigarettes, but it did give him this amazing raspy laughter that incited the joy of his grandchildren.)
Oh you’re laughing…I’m glad you think it’s funny. But you’ll shut up if you know what’s good for you Mo Houze. (She called him Mo)
This, of course, brought even louder laughter from my grandfather. Until he finally spoke to me,
Buddy, say something nice about Mamaw – she deserves it.
Then he gave her the flirtatious wink he always gave her. The one that let her see the Indiana farm boy she fell in love with when she was 18-years-old.
So, in an effort to silence the noise and honor my grandmother – let me tell you something else about her. She was great at conversation. She was. She loved to talk. She loved to listen. She loved to stay up late into the night – the later the hour, the better the conversation.
Her people (a ways back) came from County Cork, Ireland and made their way to the hills of Kentucky. Scrappy people, hard-working, tough-life many of them, but they loved to laugh and loved to talk.
My grandmother was great at conversation.
She loved to ask you questions, she loved to explore topics, she just didn’t love to watch her grandchildren grow – she loved to listen to us talk, and the older I got – and the older she got – I saw her…unfold the layers of a conversation…with each question, with each story, with each silence…layers upon layers of conversation.
Do yall know someone who is good at conversations like that?
When was the last time you were in such a conversation?
We’re listening to a conversation this morning.
Of course we are…it’s the gospel of John, after all. Throughout John’s gospel, Jesus is having conversations – more so than any other gospel. I think one of the things John’s gospel shows us, to borrow a phrase from the poet David Whyte, is the conversational nature of reality. That we learn, grow, mature – we get to the heart of things – not through competition, but through conversation. And we get to watch Jesus, time and again, unfold the layers of a conversation…each question, each story, each silence. Layers upon layers.
For example, and I think yall can hang, before we get to our conversation he’s having with Nicodemus this morning – we need to look at Genesis chapter 1. The creation narrative. What’s happening?? Listen to the language.
In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit was hovering over the face of the waters…
Spirit in the Hebrew here is pronounced RUACH and it can also be translated to “wind” or “rushing wind.”
Now lets listen to some of John chapter 1…
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…the light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it…
A few verses down in chapter 1 we hear the voice of John the Baptizer telling his disciples that he saw the Spirit over the baptismal waters.
You hear all the common language? The common imagery? In the beginning, darkness, Spirit, waters…It’s all there. Why? Because John’s gospel is also theo-poetic literature and it’s trying to communicate something is happening in and through Jesus.
And that something is a recreation. It is God re-creating through the life and ministry of Jesus. John and the community that gathered around this gospel believed that Jesus ushered in a new creation, a new world, and we’re all invited to participate in that re-creation…so we too can become new.
And now we come to the conversation this morning from John chapter 3
Now there was a Pharisee names Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews, he came to Jesus by night (some translations even say by…darkness). It’s John’s remarkable way of carrying that image of darkness all the way from Genesis 1 to John chapter 1 and he’s going to weave it in and out through the gospel. And what does Jesus do? What does he begin to talk about with Nicodemus? Water and Spirit.
No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.
Now Jesus says this after a confusing statement about being “born again” which is a phrase that comes with all kinds of attachments for us in this part of the world with tshirts, and billboards, and signs at basketball games, and preachers screaming from behind pulpits about being “born again.” But to return to Jesus’ language – it’s more like “being born from above” or an even closer translation is “being born anew.”
Anew…you see…it’s about a new creation. And those who are part of this new creation are born of water and spirit…and how does he describe the spirit…?? Well, it sounds an awful like the “RUACH” in Genesis 1.
Like a rushing wind…like the wind (or Spirit) hovering over the waters of creation, like the Spirit (or wind) hovering over the baptismal waters…there’s something unknowable and uncontrollable, there’s something risky going-on. And the layers of this conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus continue to unfold.
So…do you want to be part of it Nicodemus?
Well…how would I do that, Jesus?
Believe. Tricky word, right? Believe….(I don’t know)
Well Nicodemus does believe. He is a Pharisee, after all, known for their piety and observance of the Law. Nicodemus is a man of beliefs…about the law, about YHWH, about the prophets, about his people, his culture…Nicodemus is a man of beliefs. That’s probably one of the reasons he’s coming to Jesus in the first place, to try to reconcile all these beliefs with what he sees God doing in Jesus.
But what he’s going to discover is there are layers upon layers of belief. And there’s a difference between being a person of beliefs and a person who believes. And religion…or at least the shape religion often takes…is really good at making a person of beliefs but not people who believe. Because that…is a new creation…and that kind of creation is risky.
Belief in its various forms in the gospel of John is NEVER A NOUN. It’s always a VERB.
It’s always a way of being in the world.
I love the words of Karoline Lewis here when she writes, “And as a verb, believing is subject to all of the ambiguity, the uncertainty, and the indecisiveness of being human…We need to take seriously what faith looks like when it is active, living, permeable, and dynamic…” (repeat)
Which to me also sounds like the ingredients for a good conversation.
I see in her words about belief the same kind of image I see in the words about the Spirit and people born of the Spirit.
Every Sunday after the sermon we all stand up and say the words of the Nicene Creed, which is a statement of beliefs. And maybe some of us can stand up and say each section without reservation or question. If you’re one of those it very well may be a statement of beliefs – and if so, good. But for some of us…it might mean cracking a door, or even a window…so we can overhear a conversation…a conversation we’re all invited to…with it’s unfolding layers. I think there might be a lot of us like Nicodemus who are trying to reconcile things. Who question, who doubt, who wonder…
Well I hope you are encouraged that there are many layers of us gathered here – we’re all different, some of us are certain and some of us uncertain…and we’re all welcome here. Because Jesus didn’t call us to a set of beliefs, but to become people who believe – people willing to hold the ambiguity and uncertainty while risking the active and dynamic life of God’s re-creation in this world…People entering the conversational nature of reality – the conversational nature of faith…all of us Nicodemuses learning to be people who believe together…with each question, with each story, with each silence…
Layers upon layers….
Amen.
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