Sam Bush, “How to Look (and Feel) Younger!”
For thousands of years, many people have believed that what they do in life echoes in eternity, where every good deed is a jewel in their heavenly crown and every bad deed is a strike against them. These days we seem less concerned with the afterlife and more concerned with the life we’re living now. Eternity is not on the mind as much as longevity. What we do in our youth echoes in our old age. We’re told that we can live long and prosper as long as we count our steps, work on our posture and have our coffee with a little collagen. We may be rewarded for our good behavior, but, despite our due diligence, life inevitably takes a toll, whether by stress or sickness or sleepless nights. We may try to prolong the aging process but the body keeps the score in an unwinnable game.
And, while the body keeps the score, the game feels rigged. A one-hundred-year-old woman who was blessed with something called a longevity gene in her DNA, despite being a lifelong smoker, was asked if anyone had warned her about the danger of tobacco. She said, “Yes, all four of the doctors who told me to stop smoking — they died” (can’t you picture her saying that in between drags?). Meanwhile, someone fit as a fiddle has a stroke from out of nowhere. This contradistinction is enough to challenge one’s understanding of justice, fairness and life itself. Maybe living a long life is not on your mind as much as your career or your love life or your reputation, But our struggle with health and wellness is just one example of an existential crisis, that if you’re trying so hard to do all the right things and it’s not enough to save you, where is there hope?
Cue this famous encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus. As a member of the Jewish Council, Nicodemus would have been a high-status figure - wealthy, powerful, respected. He is curious about Jesus. Based on the recent miracles Jesus has performed, Nicodemus believes this man must come from God. He comes to Jesus by night - away from the crowds, away from his colleagues - but, despite the intimacy of their rendez-vous, the dots do not connect. Jesus and Nicodemus are not speaking the same language. Jesus says, “No one can enter the kingdom of God without being born from above,” Nicodemus says, “How can anyone be born after having grown old?” to which Jesus says, “You call yourself a teacher of Israel but you don’t understand me?” Nicodemus, this esteemed religious leader, is completely in the dark.
You see, Nicodemus’ religion was a world of cause and effect. His life, his purpose, his righteousness came from a philosophy of cause and effect. You reap what you sow. You get what you put in. As a Pharisee, he would have been devoted to a set of over 600 laws that dictated everyday life for the people of Israel. These laws told you how to live, everything from “Honor the elderly,” to “Don’t boil meat with milk.”
These laws were a road map to righteousness. If you want to be on God’s good side, do these things. So, when Jesus comes along and says, “No one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above,” Nicodemus says, “I’m sorry, ‘being born from above’ is not on my list. Is that before or after ‘Don’t boil meat with milk?’ He’s saying, “I’ve checked all these boxes and you’re telling me I’m not getting into the kingdom?” Nicodemus isn’t offended as much as he’s confused. “How can these things be?” he asks. Sadly, that’s the last we hear from him in this passage. We are left wondering if he ever sees the light.
You see, Jesus is saying, “You think you’re doing all the right things, but you’ve got it all wrong.” He has turned Nicodemus’ world on its head by deconstructing his deservedness. Think about it: being born is not something for which you can take any credit. It would be a little tacky to brag about being born right on your due date. Moreover, birth is painful, or so I’m told (I have no interest in learning firsthand). One time, Jesus uses birth pangs as a metaphor for the end times. Being born from above (or born again, as some translations say) is not as appealing as trying to prolong the life we have.
And yet, it’s possible that the pain in your life might be the birth of something new. We had our first dementia support group this week where one parishioner said, “I’m not a very patient person. It’s just not in my nature. But seeing my wife with Alzheimer's disease opened up a reservoir of love in my heart I never knew was there.” Another woman said, “Taking care of my husband is actually teaching me what love is. I don’t think I really knew the extent of love before, but I’m learning that love has to do with dying to myself in order to care for my husband.” Make no mistake: just like being born, neither of these people chose this for their life. And they would be the first to tell you that it’s been a hard and painful process. And yet God is at work in the pain.
Do you want to know the extent of God’s love for you? “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son so that everyone who believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life.” In a world where everything is subject to decay and everyone is perishing, Jesus came to exchange his life for yours so that you may not perish. Our hope is not in our survival, but in the death of Jesus. Natural supplements may stave off death just a little longer, but the gospel promises us that Jesus has destroyed death altogether. And by being raised from the dead, he has won for us far more than a long life, but one that is everlasting. While our bodies may keep the score, his resurrected body has already won our salvation.
The kingdom of God is not a reward given to you at the finish line of life, but a gift, undeserved, given to you now. And it’s completely life-changing. In the theologian Steve Brown’s book When Being Good Isn’t Good Enough, he tells the story of a woman who confessed a moment of infidelity to her husband. She had been hiding it from him for twenty years but when she finally confessed, her husband forgave her on the spot. He had actually known about it all along and said he was just waiting for her to tell him so he could tell her how much he loved her. Steve Brown says when he saw the woman the next day she looked fifteen years younger. It turns out that spiritual rebirth gives way to physical renewal. We may pour our life savings into rejuvenating elixirs, but it turns out that the best anti-aging drugs out there are love and mercy.
This is not the last we hear from Nicodemus in John’s Gospel, by the way. He comes back at the end. In chapter 19 of John’s Gospel, it says, “Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes. They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews.” Here the esteemed Pharisee is still doing his due diligence, following the customs of his religion, doing everything right, checking all the boxes. And yet, something tells me he did not do it out of duty or to be rewarded, but out of a response to the man who changed his life forever. Maybe then, it finally clicked, that this crucified man was not just from God, but God’s own Son. Maybe Jesus’ death was the moment Nicodemus was born from above. Jesus’ death after all, was not the end. It was only the beginning. Amen.
