3-15-09

It is happening. You can tell. You can tell by taking the last run of the day at Showdown, and still get home by sunset, as I did on Thursday. As opposed to leaving the parking lot in the dark as we do in December. Yes, you can tell it is happening, the days are getting longer.

We sprang ahead last Sunday, and now we have the promise of spring, to arrive in its incipient glory this Friday. Such is Lent, with nature making the theological point of light overcoming darkness, to be revealed in its full glory come Easter morning.

But I suspect many of us do not think much about Lent, just as we are not that aware of the lengthening of days. Lent just does not grab us, say, the way Advent does. Perhaps we consider ourselves graduated from the grotesque practices of fasting and mortification of the flesh historically associated with the season of Lent.

After all, we are Protestants, liberated from the arcane practices of self denial and penitence. The fact is we do not deny ourselves much of anything anymore. So we travel through Lent more like visitors in a medieval church.

We recognize a kind of grandeur there, a certain mystery, the scent of incense in the air, the eerie rays of light filtered through stained glass, the votive candles flickering at the feet of icons, as some of us did recently at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem, site of Jesus' crucifixion.

It is mysterious, curious and haunting in a holy kind of way. But to us it is ancient history - an orthodox world apart from our post-modern world. We don't live there anymore. To visit one of these gothic cathedrals is to be a tourist in a museum, not a Christian in church. It's just not our style.

I suggest this is the way many of us feel about Lent. We travel through as tourists. There is something medieval about it, and we are no longer at home with it or that serious about it.

Ah, but springtime. This is different. Spring still touches us. Perhaps spring does for us what ancient Lenten practices did for earlier generations of Christians. That is, it appeals to our senses, the colors, the smells, the beginning of budding and blooming, the greening of the earth, communicating the hope of resurrection, and here in Montana, another winter survived.

We are beginning to see it on the city streets, in the parks, and along River's Edge Trail. Our secular version of the mortification of the flesh that used to constitute Lenten practices of old. People out jogging, preparing for the "Ice-breaker" run, and paying for their winter sin of spudding out on the sofa before the television set. They are as serious as any medieval penitent, visible by the look of holy agony upon their faces. Most of them do not even know this is the third week of Lent. It is the coming of spring that beckons them to prepare for new life, not Lent.

But the hopes are still the same: "Maybe there will be atonement for me if I get out and exercise 3 times a week?" We may not search for new life the way we used to, that is, through religion, but that does not mean we have stopped searching. It's just some of the weird ways we go about it.

Binx Bolling is the hero in Walker Percy's novel, The Moviegoer. I've told you about Binx before. Binx is a bachelor, approaching thirty and living the good life in New Orleans, prior to hurricane Katrina. Binx is a stockbroker of breeding, descendant of a southern aristocratic family.

One day his great aunt gives Binx the Bolling family lecture: "At the great moments of life: successes, failure, marriage, death, our kind of folks have always possessed a native instinct for behavior, a natural piety or grace. Whatever happened we always had that. I am not ashamed to call it class. I will also plead guilty to another charge. The charge is that people belonging to our class think that they are better than other people. Darned right, we are. We are better because we don't shirk our obligations...We don't whine. We don't prize mediocrity...No, my young nephew, I'm not ashamed to use the word class. They say we think we are better. Darned right, we're better."

Well, Binx lives his life according to the Bolling family creed as taught from generation to generation. But even with his wealth, status and aristocratic class, he senses something missing. So he becomes the moviegoer, looking for meaning in the fantasy of cinema. I say, check out church. But, no, Binx goes to the movies.

To the point of becoming disassociated. He loses touch with his own life, and thinks he is John Wayne shooting three men with his carbine while dive rolling under the wagon in "Stagecoach," or whoever is the movie hero of the day.

Until one day a thought penetrates Binx's great escape. "My peaceful existence in Gentilly (which is the name of the suburb in which he lives in New Orleans, as in "genteel life") has been complicated. This morning there occurred to me the possibility of a search. What is a search? A search is what anyone would undertake if he were not sunk in the everydayness of life. To become aware of the possibility of the search is to be on to something. Not to be on to something is to be in despair."

Binx Bolling of our day. Now meet Nicodemus of Jesus' day.

Nicodemus' peaceful existence in Jerusalem (or Gentilly) has been complicated. It has been disturbed by Jesus of Nazareth. Nicodemus is a member of the Sanhedrin. The Sanhedrin is the Jerusalem City Council. Seventy elders of the highest authority, plus the chief high priest. Nicodemus is one of them.

This means Nicodemus is aristocracy. He has what Binx's great aunt calls "class." For one did not serve on the Sanhedrin without "class." Nicodemus is nobility.

And then, as Binx, one day it hits him. There is something missing. Perhaps there is more to life than "everydayness," even though his "everydayness" is not half bad. The possibility of a search occurs to him. He seeks out Jesus.

You will notice the text tells us Nicodemus comes to Jesus "by night." It would not be cool for Nicodemus to be seen searching by day. After all, he is supposed to have it all together. He is not supposed to have any failings or any doubts. Searching is for the lost, the lame, the losers. So, we get "Nick at night."

It's the pride thing. People like Nicodemus do not need religion for there is nothing they cannot handle. They are self-sufficient. If they have a need, the servants tend to it. Remember, the class thing. They may support religion as an act of charity so it can help others who are less fortunate.

But for those who live peacefully in Gentilly or Jerusalem, who are in the power positions of the "everydayness of life," they are fine. They do not need religion for themselves. Well, until something rattles their life. Or they become so absolutely bored, watching movies; they can actually hear the "still small voice of God."

Then the possibility of a search occurs. They are open to something more in life. They have needs also, are dependent as well. This day dawns on Nicodemus one night.

Jesus has just arrived in Jerusalem according to John's Gospel, who alone tells us this story of Nicodemus. Jesus goes to the Temple and kicks over the tables of the moneychangers, telling them this is his Father's house, not a capitalistic concession stand. He then challenges those in authority to tear down the Temple and he will rebuild it in three days. It took them 46 years to build the Temple. This sounds a bit boastful to the authorities. Just who does Jesus think he is?

You can imagine the talk in the Sanhedrin about this man who is claiming so much. This is a tense time in the Holy Lands. They do not need some loose cannon stirring up trouble. Nicodemus is there. Perhaps he joins in the condemnation of Jesus. Such heresy. Ridiculous.

The meeting adjourns and Nicodemus heads for home. Only he finds himself pacing the city as if searching for something. He wanders into the neighborhood where Jesus is staying, surprised himself to be there. This is not where Nicodemus usually wanders. Jesus is staying in Bethany, which means "house of the poor."

What is Nicodemus doing? What if someone should see him? He darts along close to the buildings, head bowed, lest he be recognized. He comes to the house. He hesitates. Knocks. The door opens. He is ushered in. Jesus sits at a table. He invites Nicodemus to sit down.

"Rabbi," Nicodemus begins politely, "we know that you are from God because of the things you have been doing." Jesus has been healing and teaching as well as kicking over tables. Nicodemus has heard reports about the miracles.

Though Nicodemus starts out with a statement, "we know you are from God," don't be fooled. He is really asking a question. It's just that power-people don't ask questions. It gives away control. It comes across as needy. It admits there is something they don't know. No, Nicodemus is not going to confess this. But really he is asking, "Are you really from God, Jesus?" "Are you the One?"

This is the question the searcher asks. "Are you the One?"

Jesus responds by saying you have to put all power aside. Jesus responds by saying you have to let go of all you hold on to for security, your status and station in life, your wealth and your wisdom, and allow yourself to be like a child again.

Actually, the way Jesus puts it is, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born anew, one cannot see the kingdom of God." And Nicodemus says, "Say, what?" No way is Nick understanding this nightcap class. He's had his head in legal briefs and city ordinances far too long.

"Born anew?" Nick perplexes. "How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother's womb and be born?" And Jesus sighs, "Lord, help me. This lame-brain is a leader?"

Jesus explains further, "Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, one cannot enter the kingdom of God." Well, we can get into a lot of theology interpreting this line. Certainly, the church has. Which is good. But let's see if we can come across with an abridged version.

"Unless one is born of water." John baptized Jesus in the Jordan. The Jews had a ceremonial washing with water by which one was pronounced clean after having been defiled and cast out. The water symbolically as well as literally cleansed them so they could enter the Temple again and begin anew.

Jesus is saying, if we want to enter the kingdom of God, we have to be washed clean. We have to wipe the crud out of our eyes, and out of our souls. We have to lift up our heads and see clearly what has always been there, the beauty of God's creation and the love of God which is behind it, to which we have become blind in our attempts to control creation for our own purposes. "Unless one is born of water."

"Unless one is born of the Spirit." What, do we think we are all grown up at birth? Is this so hard to understand and accept? That we have to be born of the Spirit as well as flesh.

Do we think there is no birth beyond physical life? That we don't continue to grow up and mature spiritually as well. Which is kind of tough to do as a three year old, or a thirteen year old. But as an adult we continue to grow up and be born of the spirit, by the grace of God. We realize we not only have earthly parents, but a relationship to a divine Parent as well.

Yes, Nicodemus, one can be born anew later in life. In fact, one must be born anew later in life. For this is life! Continual growth and rebirth. As Jesus said to Nicodemus, "A person is born physically of human parents. (Do you think it stops there? No) A person is next born spiritually of the Spirit of God." This is to be born anew.

Nicodemus did not get it. He could not see it. His vision had been dimmed from too many years reading the letter of the Law. Anyway, he was serving in the Sanhedrin, whose purpose, like a lot of bureaucracies, was to suppress the Spirit and maintain the status quo.

Nicodemus could not see it. But as Jesus said, "The Spirit blows where it will." It wafted by Nicodemus one night. He felt a faint breeze in Jesus, and his peaceful existence, like Binx Bolling, the movie-goer, became disturbed.

The Spirit opened Nicodemus to the possibility of a search. And Nicodemus began to "wake up." He began to come alive. He, who had been dead to the establishment. For God's Spirit came to Nicodemus in Jesus, and he began a quest, a time of critical self-examination and spiritual exploration.

Nicodemus, I think it can be said, started the first Lenten journey, a time spent with Jesus preceding new life.

This I believe we can surmise for John, and only John, gives us two more references regarding Nicodemus.

First, a bit later in John's Gospel (7:50), with Jesus already in deep trouble, the Sanhedrin is trying to figure out what to do with him. The consensus is to arrest him. But then someone speaks up for Jesus. As far as we know, the only voice ever raised in Jesus' defense.

It was Nicodemus who asks, "Does our law pass judgment on a man before it gives him a hearing?" This was all it took, a voice of reason, to prevent Jesus' arrest at that time.

And the second reference is at the end of John's Gospel (Chapter 19:39). It is Nicodemus, along with Joseph of Arimathea, who has the power to get permission from Pontius Pilate to take Jesus'body down from the cross and preliminarily prepare it for burial and placement in a temporary tomb, preceding the Jewish Sabbath, during which burial could not take place. In fact, some believe the temporary tomb in which the body was laid was Nicodemus' very own tomb.

It is curious how John introduces Nicodemus this time around. He says, "Nicodemus, who at first had gone to see Jesus at night..." You get the sense Nicodemus' Lenten journey is over, and he now understands who Jesus is.

He is no longer asking, "How is it one can be born anew?" Nicodemus has graduated from "night school," and come into the light of a new day. Nicodemus is ready for Easter!

By the way, Binx Bolling in The Moviegoer also sees the light. It is not as clear as Nicodemus, but then Percy Walker is writing a book, not the Bible. What happens is Binx on his 30^th birthday decides to give up the good life in Gentilly and go to medical school, as a way of beginning anew and making a difference with his life.

One evening as a medical student, he observes a black man entering a church. Then he watches the man exit the church, now with a smudge of ash on his forehead.

Only then does it dawn on Binx that it is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. He reflects on this, saying it is "impossible to say (for sure)," but perhaps this is a "dazzling trick of God's grace," how God can be present wherever we are in life, blessing us with new life.

May this be your awareness this Lenten season as you prepare for Easter. AMEN.