What does it mean to be born again? Sermon Lent 2.

What does it mean to be born again

Sermon by Fr. Rian Adams

There’s been a lot of fighting about this passage over the centuries. Churches have even split based on how to interpret John 3:16. So I decided to stay away from the theological debate. I decided to preach one of the many points found in the text and avoid the “born again” theology. 

I wanted to preach that Nicodemus was a religious leader, a scholar of the Law, yet he didn’t understand the Law of Love. That’s a good sermon, and I reserve the right to preach it one day.

But my soul wouldn’t allow me the luxury of an easy way out. I avoided writing for two days, and then I realized that hard texts – the ones that have divided us – hold Good News too.

 So I went on a quest to unravel the great mystery; what does it mean to be born again. I grabbed some books I knew would help. They didn’t. They didn’t even address the issue. Then I went to favorite lectionary commentaries. They pointed out various aspects of the text that were enlightening… but had nothing to do with being born again. 

After two or three hours of research, I had a revelatory moment: No one has the courage to speak about being born again except for evangelicals. Well, I’ve never been a man to back down from a challenge, so I decided to preach about the words of Jesus. 

My sermon titled: What does it mean to be born again?

My answer? I’m not sure, but I can make a couple of observations from the passage that enlighten the question.

First, being born again is a process. 

In John’s Gospel, we meet Nicodemus, and Nicodemus has a problem. He wants to meet Jesus, but his religion is in the way of a relationship. He’s a member of the Jewish Sanhedrin court, which makes him one of the most influential Jewish scholars in the world. 

He’s in a race against the clock, and his window to meet Jesus is short. He longs to hear the wisdom of a young Rabbi likely half his age, but he wants to protect himself and his reputation. 

Jesus is often a risk to our “reputation.” 

So he sneaks out at night and wanders the back alleys to find Jesus. He must be back home before dawn, or his silver slipper will turn back into a dusty sandal. 

He finds Jesus, but he doesn’t find what he expects. The first pitch is a curveball that Nicodemus can’t hit… Jesus says, “Unless someone is born again, they can’t see the Kingdom of God.”

HE swings, “Born again? How can a person reenter the womb?” He misses. 

Nicodemus falls prey to a literalist mindset, that’s why he misses the secret to being born… and being born… again. Giving birth is a process. And it’s not a pretty process either. Birth is violent, painful, bloody, and terrifying. There are screams, and tears, there is urgency.

In August 2009, Amber was in labor for nineteen hours. The epidural helped, but it wore off about an hour before. Then time sped up. We were about to meet our boy, who weighed about 8lbs. But we had a problem: We were not in the delivery room yet.

The nurses were rolling her down the hall, screaming, “Open the delivery room doors now, or this kid will be born in the hall.”

New birth is a willingness to go through the pain, the pressure, and the anxiety of reentering the world again as a vulnerable learner. Nicodemus normalized to the role of expert. Jesus urgently says, “Nicodemus, you’re a leader in Israel, but you missed the point. To be born again is to be born anew into vulnerability and curiosity.”

Let me stop here… being born again confronts us every day, especially today in the Eucharist. Would you like to get over the rage you’ve harboredm…. toward yourself? Come back to God, allow the Spirit to blow as it will, and reenter the world with self-compassion and self-mercy.  

It’s Lent, and we ask God to forgive our sins and have mercy on us. We say it dozens of times. What if being born again allows us to have mercy on ourselves as God forgives our sins.

New birth is growing into the likeness of Christ, over and over.

Second, being born again is joining a family. 

Nicodemus also has a second problem; can his theology make room for a kingdom that’s bigger than his “denomination.” Will he step outside of the box he drew in the sand.

He thinks a family tree is more powerful than a broadness in God’s mercy. 

This is so important to understanding this passage. If we miss this concept, we miss the meaning of John 3:16. 

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, so whoever believed would have everlasting life. God didn’t send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but through him, for the world to be saved.”

People weaponize that verse to exclude. They say you must say a  “sinner’s prayer” or you’re excluded. I believe it means the exact opposite. “Nicodemus, God is not confined to a race or people, or a sect of particular beliefs.”

That must have scandalized Nicodemus! It scandalizes us, too. There was only one way to enter the Kingdom of God, to be born into it through a literal descendant of Abraham. Everyone else was excluded. 

There was even a term they called non-jews. In the Harry Potter world, non-magic people are called “muggles.” Jews called non-jews, “gentiles.” 

Jesus confronted that exclusion, “Nicodemus, you know the God of exclusion through a birth family, allow me to introduce to the God of inclusion. “For God so loved the world (not just Israel), that he gave his son that no soul is outside that doesn’t choose to be there.”

Allow me to recognize a painful truth: Religion is most dangerous when it focuses its energy on exclusion instead of mercy. 

The whole passage is about who’s in and who’s out. Either a select few are God’s “true” family, or everyone is invited to become part of God’s family by following the ways of Jesus. Paul talks about this is the letter to Romans we read: We are “born again” through the Spirit. When that occurs, a person is “born again.”

How NOT to view being born again.

Some people never understand that being born again is surrendering to God’s ways, and being born again is to accept that the wind/spirit blows on whoever it will. 

A few years ago I met a friend of my parents at a 4^th of July function. He didn’t know I was a priest, but I doubt it would have mattered anyway. “Mr. Christian” decided to evangelize me into the true faith of conservative evangelicalism. Apparently, he decided I was a heathen.

So I played along. His one pitch was that I needed to be “born again.” Finally, I had all I could stand… I said, “You’re the first person I’ve met who framed a birth certificate to prove they were alive.”

Amen.