Jan 25, 2026 John 3:1-21 - Nicodemus: Pursuing and Questioning Faith

Nicodemus comes to Jesus by night, and it is tempting to judge him for that. However, night is often where real faith begins. Nicodemus is not shallow or hostile. He is thoughtful, trained, and he is respected. And still, something in him is restless. 

 

The darkness that surrounds him is not simply fear; it is unknowing. It is the honest admission that what has sustained him so far is no longer enough. John presents Nicodemus not as a villain but as a mirror. Many of us arrive at faith not in confidence, but in quiet longing, unsure what we might lose if we ask the wrong questions.

Another possibility is that he was a very responsible leader who was swamped with his daily responsibilities. He went to question Jesus to find out more about what he experienced at the first available chance he found after his work. 

Steeped in Jewish tradition and culture, Nicodemus would have been confident of his place in heaven. But, like last week's scripture reading, Jesus meets Nicodemus not with reassurance. Rather, Jesus answers with disruption. “No one can see the reign of God unless they are born from above.” The language itself refuses to settle. Born again? Born from above? Jesus does not clarify the ambiguity, but rather leans into it. Faith, he suggests, is not an achievement or a credential. It is not a conclusion reached by the well-prepared. It is a beginning that originates in God, not in us. The Spirit moves like wind: uncontained, unownable, uncontrollable. You can feel its effects, but you cannot command its direction.

Our Wednesday group discussion on the wind fascinated me. For some of us, the wind metaphor was more clarifying than the "born again" language, but even this was as deeply unsettling for us as it was for Nicodemus. Our lives are built on trying to "master" Scripture, or be true to our faith tradition. Jesus describes a transformation that undoes mastery altogether. You cannot earn this birth. You cannot manage it. You cannot even fully explain it. You can only consent to it. That is both terrifying and liberating. It is terrifying for those invested in control. It is liberating for anyone who has been told they are too flawed, too doubtful, or maybe too complicated to belong. God’s new life does not depend on pedigree or purity. It depends on openness. God never overrides relationships, either by certainty or by control. 

Instead, Jesus then reaches back into Israel’s story, recalling the bronze serpent lifted up in the wilderness. It is a strange image: healing comes not by denying suffering, but by facing it. The people are saved not by escape, but by looking directly at what is killing them, and trusting God there. Jesus dares to say that his own life will follow this same pattern. He will be “lifted up,” not onto a throne, but onto a cross. In John’s Gospel, this lifting up is both humiliation and exaltation, death and revelation held together. God’s saving work is not accomplished through domination, but through vulnerability. The cross is not divine cruelty demanded by God; it is divine solidarity with those crushed by violent systems.

Only then do we hear the words so familiar they risk losing their power: “For God so loved the world.” Not a purified world. Not a deserving world. The world as it is, fractured, fearful, resistant, beloved. God’s response to a broken creation is not condemnation, but love embodied and risked. “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but so that the world might be saved.” If condemnation is the loudest note in our theology, we have misheard the gospel. In John, salvation is not escape from the earth; it is healing within it, liberation from false stories about God, ourselves, and one another.

Kristen was troubled, as it turned out we all were, by the John 3:18 condemnation of those who did not believe in God's one and only son. Pastor Emillie suggested the author of the book of John may have had a different association with those words than we do now.  

Judgment is not God’s eagerness to punish. It is the revealing light of truth. Light and darkness here are not a moral sorting of people into good and bad. They describe our posture toward truth. We resist the light not because we are evil, but because exposure is costly. Systems of injustice require darkness to survive. So do personal illusions, about innocence, superiority, or control. Yet the light of Christ is not a spotlight meant to shame. It is a sunrise meant to awaken.

John 3 refuses to behave like an answer. It is mysterious not because it is obscure, but because it cannot be reduced to a formula. It is less a doctrine than an encounter. Pastor Emillie noted that after every sign John offers, there is immediate confusion that spreads.

She also let us know that, unlike the English language, Swahili, like Greek, has many words with different meanings for love with different emphases..

Greek Term	Meaning	Swahili Parallels	Emphasis

Agápē

Self-giving love

Upendo, huruma

Moral, spiritual, ethical

Philia

Friendship

Urafiki, udugu, ushirika

Mutuality, community

Éros

Desire

Mapenzi, mahaba

Passion, intimacy

Storgē

Familial love, shared life

Upendo wa wazazi

Care, nurture

As I currently understand, we must keep in mind that these Greek categories tend to separate kinds of love (eros vs. agape), especially in philosophical or theological writing, where Swahili tends to layer them.

Anyway, Nicodemus leaves without resolution, and that is the point. Faith here is not certainty; it is movement. It is learning to trust the wind, to consent to being remade, to believe that love, not fear, not condemnation, not and certainly not control,is God’s final word. We are left space to ponder and grow from what we are experiencing. 

Nicodemus comes at night, but the story does not end there. Light is already moving toward him. And toward us. We may come with questions, with half-understood beliefs, with lives carefully managed around what feels safe. Jesus does not turn us away. He invites us into the mystery, into a faith that is less about being right and more about being reborn, again and again, from above.

The Gospel's Truth is alive, relational, and still unfolding. 

Remembering wham Creator Lutheran Church received the RIC Certificate 

 Today's Service

Sermon

Pastor Emillie preached about being a Christian before her time as a  Lutheran. She was afraid how she was living did not measure up to what God expected so she performed many altar calls as her church demanded "just in case".

I grew up Lutheran, but I related. This kind of faith worked for my dad, but it doesn't for me. I don’t follow Jesus because I’m afraid of hell. I follow Jesus because he’s worth following, even if I’m wrong about how the story ends and Pastor Emillie's sermon clarified that for me today. 

The last Sunday in January is normally observed as RIC (i.e., Reconciling in Christ) Sunday. Creator voted to become an RIC congregation in 2009. Many parts of today's liturgy expressed our prayers and desire to continue to become more inclusive as a community. 

What is happening in Minnesota weighed in our thoughts and prayers as well. A Prayer for Alex Pretti 

Our annual congregational meeting happened after service, where we passed our 2026 Budget and approved our delegates to the Synod Assembly this coming May.

Be sure to check out Sarah's comments on this blog entry.  

Creator's 2025 Annual Report 

RIC Newsletter 

May 26, 2024 - Solemnity of the Holy Trinity - Nicodemus and the Trinity, What Are We Talking About?

This was posted in this week's Creator Connection regarding the Holy Trinity for Sunday's worship:

When we say God is the triune God, we are saying something about who God is beyond, before, and after the universe: that there is community within God.  When we pray to God as Jesus prayed to his Abba (an everyday, intimate parental address), the Spirit prays within us, creating between us and God the same relationship Jesus has with the one who sent him.

This post's assertions about the Trinity works better than the most. The more often cited "natural world" examples of egg and butterfly commonly used as explanations of the triune God don't get to the heart of the matter for me. Yet how do we imagine this Trinity - a God who is beyond, before and after the universe? How can a "community within God" truly integrate into our being?

To meditate on these questions this week I began with a Lectio Divina reading of the Acts from last week. Traditionally, there are four steps to Lectio Divina: read; meditate; pray; and contemplate. Reading the lectionary passage from Acts was inspiring. Prayer and contemplation naturally followed.

In Creator's Lectio practice, we often isolate a standout word or phrase that personally "shimmers" for us. That leads to followup discussions of why. For the Pentecost story, the word that stood out for me was bewildered. And this week's Gospel reading left me empathetic to Nicodemus' bewilderment. I felt all these interactions and events went beyond my present apprehension.  What I prayed reflected my inability to take these truths into my being. I thought about something I had once read which commented on the wisdom of Jesus.

Serene light shining in the ground of my being,
draw me to yourself.
Draw me past the snares of the senses,
out of the mazes of the mind,
Free me from symbols, from words
that I may discover the signified:
the word unspoken in the darkness
that veils the ground of my being.

This Byzantine Hymn served as my prayer to understand God's triune nature at this moment. I imagine it also could have become a prayer for Nicodemus, judging by his interaction with Jesus. Although Nicodemus was not wrong in what he asked Jesus, he was not right either. 

Jesus’ response to Nicodemus  does cut straight to the heart of the matter. No one can see God’s reign without being born again/from above (the Greek word another means both “again” and “from above,” and both senses are important here). Unless Nicodemus allows God to change his whole way of being in the world, he will be unable to perceive God at work. 

And ultimately, Nicodemus did see that world with new eyes.  He became a follower of Christ and played another central part in Christ's story. Together with Joseph of Arimathaea, he took down and embalmed the body of Jesus. He became bold in his faith, rather than being cautiously cloaked in darkness and fear.   

I'm afraid I am over and over caught in that caution. I indulge in too many restless, reasoned reveries about what should be done rather than offering reckless responses to God's call (like Jesus made traveling the road to Jerusalem). Kierkegaard once wrote that faith is a "reception of revelation", a "happy passion that overcomes offense", and "a passionate appropriation of an objective uncertainty". He thought of faith as "a leap and a striving" and, more specifically, that it is "a striving pathos that goes against reason". 

I agree with Kierkegaard, but will add that I find his "leap" must be plural. This past Saturday marked the four year anniversary of George Floyd's death. Creator demonstrated sympathy with protesters when they marched in Happy Valley. Frequently it is hard to engage with a struggle for justice but there was a passion to be bold in overcoming an obvious injustice four years ago. Yet resting on any past laurels seems wrong.  

Sunday Worship Service Setting - Now The Feast

Matt led the congregation on this Trinity Sunday celebration in an energetic We Are the Church as our Gathering Song. More visitors than usual worshiped with us today. I appreciated the enthusiasm they brought to the service together with our regular worshipers.

Pastor Emillie gave a beautiful Children's Sermon that physically demonstrated how the Holy Spirit can support us through times of trouble. She used a cloth dipped in water to talk about how we can absorb and get weighed down by the adversities around us. I delighted in her introducing the Holy Spirit as a shield against the stresses we often encounter in life. This can be a shield that can keep us faithful.

During Announcements, the congregation sang an impromptu request - God Bless America.  This was in recognition of this Memorial Day weekend where military member s who died while serving in U.S. forces in any current or previous war are honored. Personally on Friday my family went to Willamette National Cemetery in remembrance pf my father and his service in World War II.  

I know I was in past congregations where this song was sung at worship. Today my thoughts went to Nicodemus who saw the world around him with new eyes. The Gospel often teaches in unexpected ways. I reflected on last week's celebration of Pentecost. We took steps towards diversity and inclusion that were filled with joy for so many. Granted there were unaccustomed steps for many of us as we departed from Creator's traditions. At the same time those steps were made possible last Sunday in ways unimaginable this time last year. 

Today I saw a long road that we could walk to journey to a truer reality of welcome at Creator.  We may need to reinvent our perceptions; to be open to change, expand our imaginations, and appeal to each other's better natures. As I looked around at everyone gathered in our sanctuary for this particular worship, I heard this patriotic song from my past with new ears and a changed perspective.   

Today's service and Pastor Emillie's sermon articulated and agitated what the Creator Connection sparked throughout the week. She preached that our understanding of the Trinity, while inspiring deep faith, is vague. Nicodemus' questions are still our own, all relevant and real. 

I valued the music and lyrics of the Hymn of the Day, which was Come Join the Dance of Trinity. This was a response that did not require a complete knowledge of the Holy Spirit. It was an invitation to  everyone to learn and join in that dance.

March 5, 2023 - Second Sunday in Lent - Being Born Again, Starting Again, Learning Again

The story of Nicodemus appearing as this week's Gospel text confirms what I am exploring in Lent and also compliments as well as contains this longing for God's truth wherever the journey may lead.

People who have followed this blog may know my initial reason for beginning this writing. I wanted to answer my son's heartfelt question, "Why do people worship every week". Currently he does not connect with the repetitious structure of the liturgy and hearing only the pastor preaching on the scripture. My reason does not come from a concern about how often my son attends church or whether he will follow Lutheran traditions. I admit I don't have a corner on how to keep Sabbath holy..

Today's Nicodemus' story runs almost disturbingly like my own.  My current life is a reflection and a result of all I have done to devote myself to a spiritual life, mostly through Christianity.  Five years ago my wife Mary shared a sermon she had found on YouTube about Nicodemus.  Colin Smith was the preacher. Mary was exploring the Nicodemus story and being born again. She thought I would appreciate the ideas Smith expressed and I did at the time.

Smith first emphasized the life Nicodemus had led until his meeting with Jesus. His life was a reflection and a result of all he had done to follow a holy life. This was a man who knew how to keep the Sabbath holy. Smith asked those listening to his sermon to put themselves in his shoes and also to imagine they were master builders of their faith lives, like Nicodemus was in his faith life, who built a house that could represent that life with discipline and integrity.

Smith then asked us to imagine that Nicodemus wanted to share this house he had built with his lifetime of faith. From what he first shares with Jesus we can assume Nicodemus recognized him as a master builder of faith and belief. Nicodemus wanted to share his life with Jesus, as one master builder might want to share with another, a house he has personally planned and built through his lifetime of attention and perseverance.

Nicodemus, perhaps, intended to ask, from one builder to another, the questions that would help to make this project of his lifetime of faith and belief even better. He did not expect the response he received. What Jesus essentially answered him was the equivalent of a master builder looking around and saying "You can't do anything further on this project from here except to tear it all down."

Smith feels we all eventually wind up in same the place Nicodemus finds himself in. We know that what springs from our best effort will not get us closer to God. I understood the Nicodemus story in a new light (where, by the way, the night in this night conversation is never emphasized).

Mary commented on a post "Making connections seems to be part of human nature, and a part of spirituality - a part of me." Another connection that happened outside conversation was when  we played a game that day for the first time. It turned out that playing this particular game was well timed with considering the Nicodemus story and Smith's take on it.

I could see Nicodemus’ reaction with what he essentially heard from Jesus to "start over".  To explore and unmake connections force the re-examination of values, faith and beliefs that were carefully worked out over years and abandoning old views that are dear to us. Jesus makes this clear to Nicodemus and simultaneously reassures us there is nothing to be afraid of in this re-examination.

Our John 3:16-17 discussion was difficult. Mary said she felt sorry for me because she when reads John 3:16 and all her associations are purely of joy. When I read John 3:16 the "whosoever believes" felt like it was declaring eternal life conditional on belief in Jesus. We identified these different associations came from our different childhood memories of John 3.

For her, Nicodemus and John 3:16 was and is about Sunday School, song and happily memorizing and taking to heart God's infinite love. For me I heard it used in sermons to invoke fear and duty. The fear was that how much I, as an individual, believed in Jesus and what that it meant if my behavior and faith might not be "enough" to qualify as true belief. The duty piece in my past worked with the Great Commission and was a litmus test for everyone's belief in Jesus. Pass the test and be saved. 

I initially found it hard to accept Mary feeling sorry for me because of, or despite, knowing these differences in our associations and what experiences we bring to the story. In the end, however, I was brought back to Jesus said to Nicodemus "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". We don't need to know why and how the Holy Spirit works in each of us or that we need to harmonize or agree in our understandings. I appreciated her feeling sorry about what had happened in my past.

What Jesus said to Nicodemus, about everyone who is born again:

 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."

Nicodemus said to him, "How can these things be?" and I confess, in the end, I am truly like Nicodemus - in the dark when it comes to knowledge of God and, at times, asking the same question "How can this be?" when confronted by some life events and with others I fill with self-righteousness despite my best efforts.

 More often I search for and attempt to see signs that appear to me to proceed from God rather than the world. I call, I cling, I want and there is no presence whispering answers in my ear. I can wonder where my faith lies...  deep down at times there is nothing but emptiness and darkness . I don't usually dare to utter the words and thoughts that crowd in my head at times like these. And suddenly the scripture's words  "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me." runs through my head.

One part of God's grace is that these questions about God have moved me from potential worship of false Gods and idols in my life. The questions have served as a reminder that God is beyond description and yet I still must describe God working within me. They have finally been questions about the true nature of existence and have helped me map the contours of my faith regarding how best to live in this world. I can also accept that these contours can change.

“I am what I am,” is the answer the burning bush on Mount Sinai gives when Moses asks God's name. I discovered many years ago that a man named Ernst Bloch who maintained that this is mistranslated from the original Hebrew Ejher Asche Ejher which actually means “I will become what I will become.” In Bloch's reading, the unfolding of the holy spirit is something which is yet to come, the expression of an unfinished process.

This is why certainty and faith may not provide an immutable understanding of God in my life. This year I found out because Hebrew does not specify tense and that this could also be translated as "I am what I am becoming."

Today those are comforting words.

March 15, 2020 - Third Sunday in Lent - A Burning Light, A Burning Question

1918 Pandemic

Blind Willie Johnson wrote in his powerful song What is the Soul of a Man? the following words:

I reads the Bible often, I tries to read it right
And far as I could understand, ain't nothin' but a burning light!

Blind Willie Johnson has been on my mind this week while hearing about the latest news on the pandemic we are facing. He wrote a song about the pandemic he lived through in 1918 called Jesus is Coming Soon.

I write this after a week spent mostly in the hospital with my wife or caring for her as she struggled with her ongoing health issues, listening to constant news updates about the pandemic or having Blind Willie Johnson's songs floating in my thoughts and, throughout my waking hours, last Sunday's lectionary readings haunted me.

I do try to read the Bible often. As much as we can learn it is hard to know with certainty anything about the nature of God. For those that have faith in something beyond our apprehension of daily experiences, is there something to be done to bring about the kingdom of God? Today's gospel reading has addressed this question for me from when it was the lectionary reading three years ago. The revealing parallels and differences in the stories of Nicodemus and the Woman of Samaria are quite obvious in these current gospel readings.

Water is a central image in both "Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit" and "Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life."

There are parallels in the way these stories are told. In both these stories Jesus answers questions that come from the practical experience we have in life with another level of answer. Nicodemus never seems to overcome his literal understanding of Jesus' words, Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night with theological questions, seeking him out to ask a question about his identity.

The woman arrives at Jacob’s well at noon, the brightest hour of the day, and she is startled when Jesus speaks to her. She came for a practical purpose: to draw water, not to question Jesus about anything spiritual. Although she asks questions that assume Jesus is still talking about her physical experience with water, they are involved in a productive exchange in their dialogue.

The exchange starts when Jesus asks for a favor. Her perplexed response "How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" is explained by the parenthetical (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) There certainly is some problem with mixed levels again (perceived cultural division), however it is hard to imagine that anyone wouldn't be thirsty and ask for water at the well. It is also hard to imagine if Jesus' refreshment were the only point of this favor that their exchange would have proceeded the way that it does.

For years I have assumed the woman and Nicodemus are somewhat dense in not picking up on the meaning of Jesus' words. Now I see that is both condescending and not necessarily true. For Jesus and the woman to communicate higher truths this may be the best, if not the only, level to continue on. The profound change in the woman at the end of the story argues for this interpretation.

After Jesus' responds "The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life." The woman said to him, "Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water." and Jesus replies "Go, call your husband, and come back."

Jesus' words are extraordinary and unexpected. What does the woman's marital status have to do with the offer of living water? Perhaps Jesus is bringing up the idea of a union as a step in what is necessary for the transformation of the water from the well to living water. Next Jesus' observation of her 5 husbands (he might be suggesting that in her past she has operated from her five senses) and having no husband (she is ready to move on) now actually responds to her question. There is a union of the levels of daily experience and a higher level comes with the transformation of water.

In the end of last Sunday's gospel Nicodemus appears to be left on the fence and in the dark. He is not ready to accept or understand Jesus’ revelation. Nicodemus remains at the literal level of the dialogue with Jesus, confused about how a grown man can reenter his mother’s womb and be born again.

The woman proceeds from a literal level, identifying Jesus as he appears, as a Jew to a deeper understanding of his identity, calling him a “prophet”, opening herself to the possibility that he is “greater than our ancestor Jacob”, and finally hearing Jesus’ self-revelation, “I am he” - the one, as the woman says, who will “proclaim all things to us”. She rushes to share her belief that Jesus is the Christ with others. In this week's gospel - based on the word of Jesus, the Samaritans come to believe that Jesus is the “Savior of the world”.

This week the lectionary readings seemed to focus on rest and refreshing water that is not easily accessible. Pastor Ray focused on how the water from the wells that Jesus describes satisfies true thirst rather than the wells we often turn to, wells of loneliness and fear. This links to the First Reading  Exodus 17:1-7. The name of where the Israelites camped in this story Rephidim (Hebrew: רְפִידִם‎) means rest. And there is no apparent water for the people to drink there until Moses struck the rock with his staff. Then the Israelites are satisfied that the Lord is with us.

They were afraid of dying of dehydration until Moses struck the rock and revealed the water they could drink. Like the Israelites I feel I am in new wildernesses, both personally and in our shared, public world.

I have seen and experienced many fears this week with my wife in the hospital (thankfully not for this virus) and some choices that are being made beyond my control to fight the coronavirus. Some choices are moving many away from the world that I normally experience.

The congregation is not meeting in the church building because of the health advisories that are swirling around us. The question "Is the Lord with us?" takes on a new urgency. And I vacillate between fearing that anwer and having faith. There doesn't seem to be anything holding me to one or the other or both. This Jesus is Coming Soon song provides me with a window to my predicament and also weighs me with the burden that keeps me moving through my current, rather desolate wildernesses.

Rationally I don't believe in the chorus or that God sends disease and that is why I I connect with this cover of the song. It vacillates between a calm delivery of the stanzas and an energetic, wild chorus. I think I have a little of both in me as America prepares for this pandemic.  

Jesus is Coming Soon

(click the title to link to hear the Cowboy Junkies' cover of the song at 10:38) 

Chorus

Well, we done told you, 
our God's done warned you
Jesus coming soon
 
We done told you, 
our God's done warned you
Jesus coming soon

In the year of 19 and 18, God sent a mighty disease
It killed many a-thousand, on land and on the seas

chorus

It spread disease to everybody and the people were sick everywhere

It was influenza epidemic and it floated through the air

chorus

The doctors they got troubled and they didn't know what to do
They gathered themselves together, they called it the Spanish flu

chorus

Soldiers died in the battlefield, died in the camps too
Well the Captain said "Lieutenant, I don't know what to do"

chorus
 

Well, God is warning the nation, He's a-warning them every way
To turn away from evil eye and seek the Lord and pray

chorus

Well, the news was presented to the people, "You better close your public schools"
"And to prevent the death piles building, you better close your churches too"

chorus

Read the book of Zechariah, the Bible plainly say

Thousands of people in the cities dying on a-count of their wicked ways
chorus

March 8, 2020 - Second Sunday in Lent - In the Dark with God

The story of Nicodemus appearing as this week's Gospel text confirms what I am exploring in Lent and also compliments as well as contains this longing for God's truth wherever the journey may lead.

People who have followed this blog may know my initial reason for beginning this writing. I wanted to answer my son's heartfelt question, "Why do people worship every week". Currently he does not connect with the repetitious structure of the liturgy and hearing only the pastor preaching on the scripture. My reason does not come from a concern about how often my son attends church or whether he will follow Lutheran traditions. I admit I don't have a corner on how to keep Sabbath holy.

Today's Nicodemus' story runs almost disturbingly like my own.  My current life is a reflection and a result of all I have done to devote myself to a spiritual life, mostly through Christianity.  Two years ago Mary shared a sermon she had found on YouTube about Nicodemus.  Colin Smith was the preacher. Mary was exploring the Nicodemus story and being born again and thought I would appreciate the ideas Smith expressed and I did.

Smith first emphasized the life Nicodemus had led until his meeting with Jesus. His life was a reflection and a result of all he had done to follow a holy life. This was a man who knew how to keep the Sabbath holy. Smith asked those listening to his sermon to put themselves in his shoes and also to imagine they were master builders of their faith lives, like Nicodemus was in his faith life, who built a house that could represent that life with discipline and integrity.

In essence Smith then asked us to imagine that Nicodemus wanted to share this house he had built with his lifetime of faith. From what he first shares with Jesus we can assume Nicodemus recognized him as a master builder of faith and belief. Nicodemus wanted to share his life with Jesus, as one master builder might want to share with another, a house he has personally planned and built through his lifetime of attention and perseverance.

Nicodemus, perhaps, intended to ask, from one builder to another, the questions that would help to make this project of his lifetime of faith and belief even better. He did not expect the response he received. What Jesus essentially answered him was the equivalent of a master builder looking around and saying "You can't do anything further on this project from here except to tear it all down."

Smith feels we all eventually wind up in same the place Nicodemus finds himself in. We know that what springs from our best effort will not get us closer to God. I understood John's Nicodemus story in a new light (where, by the way, the night in this night conversation is never emphasized).

Smith ended his sermon with a different take on Jesus tying the serpent on the pole Numbers story by saying the most important parallel and take away was to look to Jesus to be saved, just as the Israelites looked up to the serpent to be healed.

Mary commented on a post "Making connections seems to be part of human nature, and a part of spirituality - a part of me." Another connection that happened outside conversation was when  we played a game that day for the first time. It turned out that playing this particular game was well timed with considering the Nicodemus story and Smith's take on it.

We played Sabacc and enjoyed this Han Solo Card Game. There was strategy together with bluffing involved. One of the game mechanics that stood out was a somewhat unique rule about rolling dice at the end of a round. If the dice matched, every player's hand is discarded and all players are dealt a replacement hand.

This provided both unusual opportunity and was simultaneously frustrating. The player's strategy could pay off during the game's short rounds. I imagined what it would be like if they were longer and if a player's strategy had worked out well, only to find themselves with a replacement hand in the closing part of a round, which was happening to us from the first rounds.

I could see an equivalent reaction in Nicodemus with what he essentially heard from Jesus to "start over". Even as players were making the most out of the hands they were dealt, those hands certainly had a random element in them. However, discarding that previous strategy, effort and luck seemed to make success arbitrary.

The same is true of our spiritual lives. To explore previously unmade connections may force the re-examination of values, faith and beliefs that were carefully worked out over years and abandoning old views that are dear to us. Jesus makes this clear to Nicodemus and simultaneously reassures us there is nothing to be afraid of in this re-examination.

As we discussed the sermon Mary and I did go into a deep conversation about another part of the sermon where Smith preached about the serpent on the pole and John 3:16-17.  Our conversation sent my meditations and prayers on John 3 down another very different path. However, I was not afraid.

I wrote about the serpent as an idol in a past blog post. The story that came to Mary's mind about the snake was Medusa, cursed to be a Gorgon in Greek mythology who had the ability to turn beings into stone by just looking at them. We are both lovers of myth and she has read Jason and the Argonauts many times.

Mary pointed out the fact that Medusa has snakes instead of ordinary hair and those snakes and her eyes could petrify living beings. Obviously this brings with those facts a fair share of fear. At the time, when Mary associated this story with the Numbers account, her takeaway was that God's message to man was, "Don't be afraid to look at what is horrible and brings fear. This may be precisely what will save you."

Don't be afraid to confront either the Medusa / Gorgon or the crucifixion. God's intention is not to instill fear in us. I learned a lot from this association that I wouldn't have made had it not been for Mary. I learned something more about what is important to her at this moment as well.

Our John 3:16-17 discussion was more difficult. Mary said she felt sorry for me because she when reads John 3:16 and all her associations are purely of joy. When I read John 3:16 the "whosoever believes" felt like it was declaring eternal life conditional on belief in Jesus. We identified these different associations came from our different childhood memories of John 3.

For her, Nicodemus and John 3:16 is was about Sunday School, song and happily memorizing and taking to heart God's infinite love. For me I heard it used in sermons to invoke fear and duty. The fear was that how much I, as an individual, believed in Jesus and what that it meant if my behavior and faith might not be "enough" to qualify as true belief. The duty piece in my past worked with the Great Commission and was a litmus test for everyone's belief in Jesus. Pass the test and be saved.

I initially found it hard to accept Mary feeling sorry for me because of, or despite, knowing these differences in our associations and what experiences we bring to the story. In the end, however, I was brought back to Jesus said to Nicodemus "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". We don't need to know why and how the Holy Spirit works in each of us or that we need to harmonize or agree in our understandings. I appreciated her feeling sorry about what had happened in my past.

What Jesus said to Nicodemus, about everyone who is born again:

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."

Nicodemus said to him, "How can these things be?"and I confess, in the end, I am truly like Nicodemus - in the dark when it comes to knowledge of God and, at times, asking the same question "How can this be?" when confronted by some life events and with others I fill with self-righteousness despite my best efforts.

More often I search for and attempt to see signs that appear to me to proceed from God rather than the world. I call, I cling, I want .. and there is no presence whispering answers in my ear. I can wonder where my faith lies...  deep down at times there is nothing but emptiness and darkness . I don't usually dare to utter the words and thoughts that crowd in my head at times like these. And suddenly the scripture's words  "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me." runs through my head.

One part of God's grace is that these questions about God have moved me from potential worship of false Gods and idols in my life. The questions have served as a reminder that God is beyond description and yet I still must describe God working within me. They have finally been questions about the true nature of existence and have helped me map the contours of the my faith regarding how best to live in this world. I can also accept that these contours can change.

“I am what I am,” is the answer the burning bush on Mount Sinai gives when Moses asks God's name.Several years ago Ernst Bloch, however, maintained that this is mistranslated from the original Hebrew Ejher Asche Ejher which actually means “I will become what I will become.” In Bloch's reading, the unfolding of the holy spirit is something which is yet to come, the expression of an unfinished process.

This is why certainty and faith may not provide an immutable understanding of God in my life. This year I found out because Hebrew does not specify tense and that this could also be translated as "I am what I am becoming."

Today those are comforting words.

March 26, 2017 - Fourth Sunday in Lent - What We Deeply Believe and What We Deeply Belove

Today's Gospel Lesson, together with the last two Sunday's gospel readings, have moved from questioning how we can know God (Nicodemus) to being transformed by inner knowledge (Woman at the Well), to today's lesson where Jesus is first heard and then seen by the blind man after the miracle. The reactions in John's gospel to this miraculous healing help us focus on how personal experiences of God are communicated among individuals.

In the today's First Reading is Samuel 16:7 - But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him; for the LORD does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart."

This verse captures one dimension of the difficulty encountered in the Gospel Lesson. Whatever we communicate about God publicly, we rely on outward appearance as a touchstone or point of reference. God's presence and attributes are not truly recognized through direct sensual evidence, even in our own hearts. We discover them through faith. The questions then become:

• How do we communicate about God and our faith to others?  
• Does the world we live contain all the vocabulary that can used to share our God experiences?

John 9:1-41, read by Suzi, Craig and Pastor Michelle, dramatizes how frustrating conversations or arguments can be when God's interventions in the world are discussed.

After this miracle many "neighbors", and then the Pharisees, do not accept what happened. Pastor Michelle highlighted how difficult it is for people to see one another given the prejudices and biases contained within us. Seeing each other through these prisms of prejudice is a major problem we all face.

Another obstacle is the difficulty of accepting anything that falls outside or challenges our inherent confirmation bias. When something disturbs how we assume life works, our first impulse is to reject it.

This story's details are beautiful challenges to practical assumptions. Jesus covers the blind man's eyes with what  "common sense" would have us avoid. Why is mud - a base component of the everyday world - used by Jesus? Mud (particularly made from spit) is counter-intuitive as a practical cure to blindness. Yet when the mud is washed away, at the command of Jesus, the blind man sees for the first time. In other words, as the "world" covering his eyes is washed away, he is able to see his savior.

Consider this quote:

"Our world, so we see and hear on all sides, is drowning in materialism, commercialism, consumerism. But the problem is not really there. What we ordinarily speak of as materialism is a result, not a cause. The root of materialism is a poverty of ideas about the inner and the outer world. Less and less does our contemporary culture have, or even seek, commerce with great ideas, and it is that lack that is weakening the human spirit. This is the essence of materialism. Materialism is a disease of the mind starved for ideas."

— Jacob Needleman, "American Soul: Rediscovering the Wisdom of the Founders" (2002)

The Second Reading - Ephesians 5:14 "for everything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, "Sleeper, awake! Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you." suggests there is another invitation or way to approach Jesus and not succumb to this disease of the mind. Christ can shine on us, in us, and through us.

I felt this shining on us, in us, and through us was present in two musical highlights of today's worship. The first was the congregation singing Amazing Grace. There was a purity and simplicity in how Matt played the piano and the congregation sang this hymn that was centering and humbling. 

The other extraordinary moment was Vaune, Kim and Annie singing Jennifer Knapp's Peace during the Offertory.

This blog is essentially about worship and what is gained from gathering each Sunday to explore the richness of our inner and outer worlds around us. God is the elusive mystery we try to express in word and sacrament when we gather. In communicating through word our tools are metaphors, analogies, arguments, and figures of speech to convey our ever changing inner perceptions and our outer realities. These expressions can become a glory or agony, depending on their success or failure.

There is another way to experience the mystery that haunts us besides word and the sacrament. What the trio offered in Peace exemplifies that other way. Language is rarely able to completely convey and connect what is in our hearts except, perhaps, in poetry. Music and poetry often rise above what is being conveyed and can embody this connection instead.

During this trio's offering I shivered. The prickle at the back of my neck alerted me to what was established between something associated inside me, and with the trio's offering, and also the author's composition. This was even stronger than when I later heard Jennifer Knapp's original recording.

Since the first time I heard Annie, Vaune and Kim; every appearance they have given has been a revelation. Over the years I have experienced their history as an audience member, a musical supporter, and as a fellow musical contributor with them.

What connected with me went beyond what they presented in their three minutes during Offertory. I have missed hearing their unique harmonies for a long time now.  To hear them practicing Neil Young's Old Man before the service I found deep, personal significance. As a Creator member, as a folk music follower, as a Neil Young fan, and as a music aficionado the music resonated with community meanings as well.

Through the years the trio's music has invited my attention to new, important artists. Through them I began to listen to the Wailin' Jennys (who, incidentally, did a beautiful cover of Old Man). Today they introduced me to Jennifer Knapp's compositions. There are intersections, identities and powerful connections made when such interests and passions are shared. 

I doubt they made their selection of this song primarily to support the sermon or the readings, and yet Peace did support today's sermon and readings. The lines "That I might hear a simple word" and "All tempests He will bind with a mighty word" was relevant to the gospel's story. The blind man first heard and then followed Jesus' word before he saw Jesus. Although it must have been coincidental, the lines in the verse "And when my enemies draw near / I pray that they will find / That I'm protected and secure" strongly echoed the sentiment in Psalm 23 which was read responsively by Suzi and the congregation in today's Psalmody.

Compared to the Jennifer Knapp's original hearing three voices sing rather than one during worship affirmed something about being gathered in community. Three voices singing in the first person moved from a singular individual experience to shared experiences that blended into an overall community experience. Another inspiration for me was the importance each of the women gave to the intricate blend of their voices and guitars. Not one of the three wanted to overpower the other's voices.

For practical reasons the trio's selection was not included in the worship bulletin which resulted in more hidden blessings. The first blessing was a revelation of the ephemeral nature that can be inherent in charged moments. The next blessing was a lack of expectations for the congregation. The omission essentially created a secret place to hide and pray, just like the song's lyrics describe. Those listening experienced the performance as simply as it was offered.

Peace's inspirations dramatized one of Pastor Michelle's key observations of the Gospel. She quoted Sonnet, one of Creator's eighth-graders, on “intersectionality,” To quote the sermon on this:

Sonnet gave examples of how intersectionality applies to her own identity:  She’s female.  She’s black.  She’s of African descent. She’s a teenager. She’s a musician.  She’s an athlete….  And because I’ve gotten to know her a bit, I’ll add a couple more pieces:  She’s an American by birth.  She’s a Christian.  She lives in the suburbs of Portland.  And she comes from a loving family….  As I reflected on this, it occurred to me that even though Sonnet and I seem very different on the surface, we have some important areas where our lives intersect:  We’re both female.  We’re both Christian.   We’re both Americans by birth.  We both live in the Portland area.  We both come from loving families.  Like Sonnet, I also enjoy making music, and although I’m not super athletic, I do like sports….  So, you see, even though we look very different, Sonnet and I have some important things in common….

These God connections are intersectionality moments that provide opportunities to grow into community experiences while simultaneously remaining signposts along personal faith journeys.

In the Jacob Needleman quote above, he identified with integrity and insight a moment we are currently witnessing in our contemporary culture. This entire worship acted as a balm to our diseased minds starved for ideas. In the Age of the Spirit, that Phyllis Tickle among others wrote about extensively, intersectionality allows  more ephemeral and deeper connections to God as we live into our future.

Today's balm was an opportunity for Creator to deepen what we believe and what we belove.