This morning I sneaked back up stairs with a hot mug of coffee and slipped under the covers, hiding from my kids and chores that were begging for my attentions downstairs. I love the book of John and I was determined to read it with fresh eyes today, instead of the tired, mostly puffy ones that felt overwhelmed by all the housework that lay before me. Here’s what I saw:
“ ‘What do you mean?’ exclaimed Nicodemus. ‘How can an old man go back into his mother’s womb and be born again?’ ” 3:4
I’ve always loved this exchange Jesus has with Nicodemus. A few sentences later, Jesus pulls the rug out from under him, suggesting that faith is more important than religion. Aren’t you a religious teacher, why don’t you get this impossible concept I’m hypothetically asking of you? Jesus rhetorically asks.
Jesus is perfectly fine dropping huge theology bombs and sauntering off without explaining himself. I have to assume that because he does it, it’s okay when I do it too. Like when I tell my son that we love and obey a God we can’t physically see or hear. He asks a lot of follow-up questions (is God bigger than a bear yes or no) and I don’t feel pressured to come up with an answer for every single one. Faith bursts out of asking questions, whether or not they get answered.
Jesus asks so much of us that seems overwhelming, unbearable or like just plain nonsense (read: rebirth as an adult). He is gracious, patient and here for the questions. I push back on him a lot, and he is here for it.
What’s something about a life with Christ that you don’t understand?
What’s something about God, his character or his story, that he has revealed to you over time?