Summary: Nicodemus was confused because his thinking was earth-bound but Jesus offered him eternal life through a spiritual rebirth if he would believe in Christ’s self-offering on the Cross.

A LIFE CHANGING INTERVIEW

The text, John 3:16 is a biblical classic: "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." It’s probably the most loved and quoted verse in Scripture. Rev Sandy Millar, Rector of Holy Trinity, Brompton, tells of how he visited a young woman in Holloway Prison. There was only one card pinned up in her cell. He noticed the words: "Happy Birthday" was the printed message and underneath was written, "We wish things could have worked out differently but all our love. Mum and Dad." Sandy Millar comments, "God could have written that about our world" and in Jesus He did.

"God so loved the world …" This contains the essence of the Bible’s message to a sick world. But to understand it, to take in its life-giving power, we have to see it in the context of the setting in which Jesus spoke those wonderful and powerful words. It came about in an interview one night that a man called Nicodemus had with Jesus. Nicodemus was somebody rather special in society - he was a Pharisee. He belonged to a group who was the aristocracy of Jerusalem. The name Pharisee means "the Separated One"; and the Pharisees were those who had separated themselves from all ordinary life in order to keep every detail of the law of Moses as worked out by the scribes. Some of them were very good men but they made one basic and very tragic error - their goal in life was the formal observance of religion, not its spirit. This often led to a proud exhibitionism and holier-than-thou attitude that God found totally repulsive.

Paul, the apostle, was once like this, but the further he progressed in the Christian pilgrimage, the more unworthy he knew himself to be, calling himself "the chief of sinners" (1 Tim 1:15). It reminds me of a dream a vicar once had. He was on his way to heaven. Before him there stretched a long flight of stairs. As he started to go up, he was given a piece of chalk and told that he must put a chalk mark on each of the steps for each sin he had committed. When he was about halfway up he met the bishop coming down. He enquired why his Lordship was returning, and the bishop answered, "I’m just going back to get some more chalk!" Perhaps we feel like that too!

Nicodemus belonged to the salvation-by-works party. He was also a member of the Jewish ruling council, the Sanhedrin. He obviously had an inquiring mind and wanted to clear up some matters with Jesus that had puzzled him, and so he came to Jesus one night for an interview. I wonder, why at night? Was it because he was afraid that he might be criticized by other Sanhedrin members if he’d been discovered in conversation with this up-start, unconventional and unlicensed teacher? Or was it just because Jesus was too busy during the day?

We just don’t know, but it’s worth mentioning because it’s so easy to jump to wrong conclusions about somebody else’s motives. The point to take is that he knew he had something lacking in his life; he recognized it and came to the One who had the words of life. Coming to Jesus is the best thing we can ever do. He is the fount of all truth and life. Nicodemus acknowledged this when he addressed Jesus, "Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God." Whatever our problems, we must bring them to Jesus. Like with Nicodemus, a talk with Jesus in the darkness of the night of our confusion will result in light.

Jesus knew what was Nicodemus’ question without being told in so many words - it was the eternal problem - that of a person who wants to be changed and who cannot change himself. That’s why Jesus immediately introduces the subject of how can a person enter the kingdom of God. He goes straight to the heart of the matter - in order to see the kingdom of God a person must be born from above, that is, that the Spirit must implant in his or her heart the life that has its origin, not on earth but in heaven. Nicodemus is told quite clearly that no earthly distinctions will qualify him for entrance to heaven. It wasn’t a matter of improvement in outward behaviour: he already lived a good life. It wasn’t a matter of the meticulous keeping of the law: he did that to the best of his ability. No, there must be a radical change.

"I tell you the truth," said Jesus, "unless a man is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." In other words, in his present state, he can’t experience and partake of the Kingdom; he can’t possess and enjoy it. This concept of being "born again" is something that Nicodemus can’t get his mind around. The whole dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus is not on the desirability of this change. He knew it was necessary, but it was the seeming impossibility of it that Nicodemus questioned.

Nicodemus was undoubtedly a clever man, but the trouble with clever people is that sometimes they can’t accept simple truths; they look for complicated solutions that aren’t there. This is the problem Nicodemus is having. Nicodemus knows only one language. And that is the language of earth. It is the only language that any of us

knows. Suddenly Jesus appears on the scene and begins speaking the language of Heaven. Nicodemus hears the words "You must be born again, " and he is confused. So he asks, "How can a person go back into his mother’s womb

and come out again?"

He was told, "I tell you the truth, unless a man is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." It must have sounded like a riddle to Nicodemus who immediately tackled the problem from the earthly angle. This is the problem Nicodemus is having. Nicodemus knows only one language, and that is the language of earth. It’s the only language that anyone of us knows. Suddenly Jesus appears on the scene and begins to speak the language of heaven. Jesus was referring to a Kingdom not of this earth - it was God’s Kingdom; it was being saved unto everlasting life. This Kingdom had an entrance, and just as entry into this earthly life required our birth, so entry into God’s Kingdom requires a spiritual birth.

Poor Nicodemus, he was too clever for his own good! The concept of being re-born was too much for him. There are many things in this world that we use every day without knowing how they work. I’ve only got a very hazy idea of how electricity or radio or television works, but that doesn’t stop me from using them every day.

We may not understand how the Spirit of God works, but the effect of the Spirit on the lives of men and women is there for all to see. There’s a story that has been told with many variations. A workman who had been a drunken reprobate was converted, born again, to use the words of Jesus. He was being mocked by his workmates for believing some of the miracles of Jesus and, in particular, the turning of water into wine. "Well," he replied, "you can believe it or not, but I do know that in my own house and home he has turned beer into furniture!"

"Look," said Jesus to Nicodemus, "you must distinguish between the flesh and the spirit. I’m talking about a different realm. You should not be surprised at my saying, ’You must be born again.’ Take as an illustration the wind. 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. The wind does what it pleases. So does the Spirit. His operation is sovereign and mysterious." What a lesson this was for Nicodemus, a man who had been brought up in the belief that a person could and should save himself by perfect obedience to the law of Moses and a host of man-made human regulations!

Nicodemus had the Old Testament scriptures but it seems they were only of academic interest to him. The message of the prophets was that God demanded obedience rather than sacrifice; he wanted to put his Spirit in him. This meaning had passed him by. We in our day have the infinitively greater advantage of having the completed message of the Gospel in the New Testament. We thank God for the Bible, but like Nicodemus, we need the Holy Spirit to illuminate the words and challenge us to make our commitment to God.

One of my former colleagues is a Jew and we’ve often had conversations about our shared faith in God and our love for Israel and the Scriptures. One day he showed me his "bible" - but of course it finished with the last book of the Old Testament. To me it was incomplete; it’s rather like when you set your video for a television programme but one of these annoying things happen - either the schedules change or, worse still, you key in the wrong time or the tape runs out. Later on, at some convenient time, you settle down to see the programme and then, just at a crucial point the screen goes blank! O dear, how frustrating, you don’t know what the end is! Nicodemus had reached the end of the line of his religious experience.

It’s rather like that with the revelation of God before the coming of Jesus - the climax was still to come. It’s been said of the two testaments which comprise the Bible, "The New is in the Old concealed; the Old is in the New revealed." There’s a lot of truth in that. Jesus constantly referred back to the events recorded in the ancient scriptures of Israel as illustrations and anticipations of the Kingdom that he would initiate and, in fact, make possible.

Jesus recalled to Nicodemus the strange Old Testament story of an episode of the new nation of Israel when they were camping in the wilderness on their way from Egypt to Canaan (Numbers 21:4-9). The people of Israel were constantly grumbling against Moses and God and ungrateful about their conditions. Although they were given a daily fresh supply of manna, angels’ food, they complained - "no bread ... no water! And we detest this miserable food!" They fervently regretted they had ever left Egypt.

God is long-suffering, but the Israelites over-stepped the mark; they passed "the Last Chance Saloon", and God punished them by sending a plague of deadly, venomous snakes which "bit the people and many Israelites died." The snakes had been in the desert all along, but up to now God had wonderfully preserved his people from being hurt. It was their sinful behaviour that put themselves outside God’s protection. The Bible often speaks of the wrath of God. But how is it expressed? Very often it’s by letting people be themselves. They bring judgement on themselves.

There’s a stern word in Romans, where the apostle Paul writes of those who live in persistent sin and ignore God’s warnings and call to repentance, "The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth by their wickedness" (1:18). What does God do to show his wrath? He does nothing. He just lets people go. They wallow in their perversions; they sink into every kind of hateful and antisocial behaviour. Sin is its own worst punishment. This is a taste of hell on earth.

The plague of snakes made the people come to their senses; they repented and cried to God for mercy. Afflictions are often used in God’s mercy to turn us to the reality of our relationship with God. He allows them because he loves us; they are a sign that we’re still within the parameter of God’s grace. The people asked Moses to plead their cause with God. Bearing in mind the shameful treatment that he’d endured from the people in his care, Moses showed commendable meekness and forbearance.

Here we have a foreshadowing of the Lord Jesus, as he forgave those who had scorned him, blessing those who had cursed him and praying for those who had despitefully used him. It’s a pattern for us to go and do likewise, and thus show that we love our enemies. God instructed Moses to make an image of a serpent and to put it on a pole, and those who looked at it were healed. Jesus took that old story and used it as a kind of parable of the work that he was going to perform for mankind. He told Nicodemus, "Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life."

The Israelites prayed that God would "take the snakes away from us", but God saw fit not to do this. I wonder why? It seems a paradox, something that would be odd were it not true, that the symbol of suffering should bring strength, and that poison could be the means of healing - but it happens. When we were on holiday near Bristol, we visited the village of Berkeley, the home of Dr Edward Jenner who discovered that a vaccination of cowpox could prevent the fatal disease of smallpox. Similarly, many are helped by homeopathic remedies that operate on the principle of a minute extract of a plant, which in its natural state, might well be poisonous.

The story of the brass serpent made by Moses, lifted up on a pole, made a deep impression on the people of Israel down the years. Their rabbis explained the healing of the people in this way: "It was not the serpent that gave life. It was not the sight that cured them, but in looking up to it, they looked up to God, as the God that healed them." The healing power didn’t lie in the serpent; it was only a symbol to turn their thought to God, and when they did that, they were healed.

When you go to the chemist you may find your purchase placed in a bag which has the symbol of a serpent around a cross, obviously derived from this story. This is rich in meaning. The serpent and the Cross. Jesus told Nicodemus that "Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up." There’s a remarkable similarity between the uplifted serpent on a wooden pole and Jesus on a wooden cross, the type and the anti-type, the vivid illustration and the appalling reality. Christ on the Cross becomes power, changing, transforming, transmuting evil into good. When he is lifted on the Cross, like the serpent, he brings healing. The Cross, which is the instrument of torture and death, becomes the instrument of life.

It was God himself that devised and prescribed the antidote for the poisonous bite of the serpent; so our salvation by Jesus was the conscious plan of God formed in eternity that God himself would provide the ransom for sin’s penalty. On the face of it, the literal cure and the spiritual cure are provided by unlikely methods. St Paul found that his preaching of salvation by the death of Jesus was "to the Jews a stumbling block and to the Greeks foolishness" (1 Cor 1:23) and yet to those who believed "it was the power of God unto salvation" (Rom 1:16).

God was surely looking to the greater event when he arranged the incident in the wilderness. It’s amazing that that which cured was in the likeness of that which wounded. So Christ, though perfectly free from sin himself, we’re told in Scripture, was "made in the likeness of sinful flesh" (Rom 8:3). But not only that, for just as the brazen serpent was lifted up; so was Christ. He was lifted up on the Cross; he was made a spectacle to the world. It was on the Cross that Jesus triumphed over Satan, the old serpent, whose head he bruised. Paul wrote to the Christians at Colosse: "Christ ... cancelled the written code ... that was against us ... nailing it to the cross." He made an open show of the principalities and powers which he had spoiled and destroyed (2:14,15). Hallelujah, what a Saviour!

Jesus so wanted Nicodemus to see the application of the remedy in the Numbers story to his own personal need - and what applied to Nicodemus is true for every other person - even to me and you. In Numbers the people are faced with physical death but Jesus is telling of an exposure to a greater danger, that of eternal death. In Numbers the emphasis is on physical healing, but Jesus is pointing to eternal life available to "everyone who believes".

True belief in Jesus is only achieved as we come to him in repentance and faith. The operative word is "believes" - it tells us that this blessing of all blessings is conditional upon our making a personal response, of putting our trust upon him who is lifted up on the Cross. Jesus alone, as the sinless Son of Man, could atone for the sins of the world, and that’s why he said, "the Son of Man must be lifted up".

When Karl Barth was speaking at Chicago University, he was asked by one of the students what was the most profound theological statement he had ever reached. He paused for a moment and said, "Jesus loves me, this I know … " And so I leave you with the classic text of the Gospel, "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." It’s up to each of us to make an appropriate response to God’s offer of redemption.