5/30/21 “A Nicodemus Moment” by Nancy E. Petty
John 3:1-17
I found it to be a bit of an odd question. I had been on the staff of Pullen less than 6 months when a seminary friend called and asked me: “Well, what is it really like to work at Pullen?” You see, for those of us who attended Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in the late 80’s and early 90’s, and were of the left-leaning theological perspective, the idea of landing a ministerial position at Pullen was like what we imagined it being like to be Moses standing in the presence of the burning bush or Mary when the angel Gabriel visited her with the news of her chosen-ness. The mystique about Pullen and those who went there, at least for us young liberal wanna-be ministers was legendary. Many of our respected and beloved professors were at Pullen, either as staff or members. John Steely, Michael Hawn, Bob Poerschke, Alan Neely, and Mahan and Janice Siler—the Abraham and Sarah of my metaphor. My seminary friend had called wanting the “inside scoop.” What’s the real truth about Pullen Church and her people?
You are dying to know what I said, right? My answer then is somewhat different from how I would answer that question now. AND, in theory, my answer is the same. Being on staff at Pullen I said then and will say now is both challenging and exhilarating. Challenging in the sense that Pullen folk have high expectations for themselves and their staff. Exhilarating in that Pullen people are some of the most extraordinary people living the most extraordinary lives who are truly making a difference in the world. They scoff at easy answers and simple truths that churches and ministers often give. And they live their faith with passion, grace and humility; all the while asking the hard questions of our faith and how to live out our faith in the world. And so, my answer is the same as it was 29 years ago but for different reasons. Interestingly, my seminary friend was the first person to ask that question but not the last. Throughout my time at Pullen I have been asked numerous times about the “inside scoop” at Pullen. The questions range from what it was like working with Mahan to how many gay members do you really have to do y’all actually read and study the Bible. And lots of questions about our worship. It boggles my mind when I think about all the images people who have never stepped inside our church have in their minds about how we worship. Sometimes I wonder if they’ve actually read the ways our spiritual ancestors worshiped and think we do the same instead of the ways Western spirituality has sanitized, sterilized and white-washed worship. Bottom line, they want to know the “inside” or “real” scoop about Pullen Church and what goes on here.
The story of Nicodemus going to Jesus in the dark of the night to get the “inside scoop” about Jesus and his message reminds me of my experiences of people asking me about what really goes on at Pullen. We all do this thing of wanting to know the inside story or the lesser known story about something. We want the secrets, to be in the know. And, like Nicodemus, we often avoid asking our questions in the light of day or in public. Especially if we are just a little bit afraid that we might be found out asking a question that could land us in trouble or make us look like we don’t know something we should or honestly makes us look like we are plain nosey. Whatever the reasons, we make that secret phone call or schedule a coffee date with someone we know closer to the situation who we believe will keep our confidence, someone who might know more. Instead, in quiet and subtle ways—in the shadows and out of the light—we reach out to someone we know who might know the inside scoop or the real story.
In truth, we don’t know why Nicodemus visited Jesus by night. There are several hypothesis. Some have speculated that Nicodemus was afraid or ashamed to visit Jesus in broad daylight, so he made a nighttime visit. That could be the case, but the text does not give a reason for the timing of the visit. Given that Nicodemus was a member of the Jewish ruling council, it would have been his responsibility to question Jesus to find out about his teachings that might be seen as leading people astray. But again, the text does not give us a reason for the time of day Nicodemus makes his visit to Jesus.
What we know about Nicodemus is that he had been working in the government for a number of years with the hope that things would get better, that people would pull together in the values that were central to Judaism, and preserve the culture and life of the nation. But he was up against leaders like Pilate and Herod and Caiaphas—translate today: political leaders who oppose teaching in our schools the historical truth about racism in America, who block a commission to study a Capitol riot, and who continue to perpetuate lies about a presidential election being stolen. Given the political situation Nicodemus was living in, it is possible that he had become discouraged to the point that he was looking for other answers, other paths to follow. Being a leader of the Jews and obviously having heard of this man Jesus and knowing of his ministry, he went seeking the inside scoop about his teachings; and (unlike us) he went straight to the source. And for that, I give him a lot of credit.
He addressed Jesus with respect, “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.” He affirmed Jesus and acknowledged his ministry. Then comes the dialogue between Nicodemus and Jesus that we are familiar with. Talking with a man whose role is protecting an earthly kingdom—a literal kingdom—Jesus begins by presenting Nicodemus with the idea of another kind of kingdom: the kingdom of God. Jesus tells Nicodemus that in order to see the vision of God’s kingdom one has to be born from above. Although Nicodemus responded in a literal way by asking can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born, Nicodemus knew that one could not literally physically be born again. To say such was to continue the conversation. Curious, he presses Jesus. He is trying to get the inside scoop, the real story about what Jesus is teaching—what does it really mean to be born again and what about this alternative kingdom. And that’s when Jesus explains to Nicodemus about being born of water and of the Spirit. Still curious, Nicodemus presses on: How can these things be? And that’s when Jesus questions Nicodemus. How can you be a leader of Israel and not understand these things?
What strikes me as the conversation continues between Jesus and Nicodemus is how Nicodemus’ thinking is rooted in an earthly system and Jesus’ teaching is rooted in a whole different kind of system. Nicodemus has his feet planted in a system that operates in power and privilege for some and not for all. If you are the “right” gender and your skin tone is the “right” color, you are in. If not, you are out. He is a part of a system that relies on who you know and where you live and where you were educated and what job you have and how much money you make and what tribe you are from. And Jesus is rooted in a system counter to everything Nicodemus knows. Jesus is speaking of a kingdom—a system—where all are included, where it doesn’t matter your gender, your skin color, how much power you have, what tribe you are from, who you know or don’t know. His kingdom, his system, takes care of the poor and the sick and the hungry. His system pays a living wage, makes sure everyone has health care, seeks the truth and tells the truth, shares power and operates on equality for all.
It seems to me that Nicodemus is sincere and honestly searching in his questioning. There is a sense that he is doing more than just checking off a box. It seems he truly wants to understand this being born again of water and Spirit. And something tells me that in this conversation with Jesus, Nicodemus has encountered something new and alive. He doesn’t understand it, but he can sense it. And what we know about Nicodemus after his first encounter with Jesus confirms his sincerity. Later in John’s gospel it is Nicodemus who reminds his colleagues in the Sanhedrin that the law requires that a person be heard before being judged. And it is Nicodemus who appears after the crucifixion of Jesus to provide the customary embalming spices, and assists Joseph of Arimathea in preparing the body of Jesus for burial. That first conversation with Jesus took root in Nicodemus and from all the evidence it appears that he finally understood the kingdom, the system, of God. (Oh, maybe at some point we need to have another conversation with Jesus.) At some point, he grasps the meaning of Jesus’ words: “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.” Here is a man whose life has been tracing the lines of order carefully. Can you imagine how terrified he must have been to now root himself in winds that blow where they will and in whose origin is in the Unknowable One? Can you imagine the changes he had to make internally and externally to transform his thinking and acting from the kingdom—the system—he had lived and worked in to a kingdom/system rooted in a wind that blows where it chooses and in the Spirit of One that is unseen and unknowable? But is that not part of the faith journey. Is that not part of kingdom living, of rooting ourselves in a system that surprises us and takes us to places we could have never imagined? Is it not our calling as people of faith to be Spirit born people? To uproot our traditional ways of thinking and being that keep us bound up in the untruths of American history, measured steps, theologies designed by white men, and the ideals of American democracy that have never been true for so many Americans.
I have been thinking about what it means to be Spirit born people, especially in the context of the work we are being called to do around becoming an anti-racist church. I must confess that I feel a little bit, maybe a lot, like Nicodemus. I have lived and been rooted in a kingdom—systems—of whiteness. I never questioned the history I was taught in school nor the theology I was taught growing up in all those white Southern Baptist churches. It wasn’t until seminary and hearing Alan Neely talk about liberation theology and a theology of the oppressed that I even considered a different way of reading scripture. Or reading Mary Daly’s work on the slimy underbelly of religion’s treatment of women. These things were not discussed in the churches I had attended nor in my religion classes in college. And like Nicodemus, when confronted with these different ways thinking—especially around theology and the experiences of non-white and non-Christian people—it was easy to get disoriented. And yet, like Nicodemus, when I heard these new teachings, something in me recognized them, long before I understood them. I knew there was truth in them, and what’s more, I knew that I couldn’t never again NOT hear them.
We are in a Nicodemus moment in our nation and in our churches, and in our church—Pullen Church. It is time to get to the “inside scoop,” the “real story” on who we want to be as people of faith and how we want to be the church in the 21st century. This is another moment in the life of the church—our church—when we will decide if we are going be rooted in our traditional ways of thinking and acting. Or if we are going to be Spirit born people and uproot ourselves from the systems of racism and whiteness and xenophobia so that the wind can blow us in new directions where God is doing a new thing. We’ve been in these Nicodemus moments before as a church. We know that to get to the inside scoop will be at times challenging. And, we know that, if we do it, it will also be some of the most exhilarating work we do as a church.
May we have the faith and courage and strength and wisdom to meet this Nicodemus moment! And when someone asks you for the inside scoop of what it is like being at Pullen may the response be: always challenging and exhilarating.
