“Rest and Resilience: Vulnerability”
3-3-24
John 3:1-10
Broadway Christian Church
David A. Shirey
Gregory the Great, in the 6th century, said Scripture “is like a river, broad and deep, shallow enough here for the lamb to go wading, but deep enough there for the elephant to swim.” Well, John’s Gospel is in the deep end of the Bible. When you read John, you need to go deeper. There’s always more than meets the eye. Words and phrases that seem straightforward have many layers of meaning. What Linda just read is a case in point. The passage begins, “Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night.” But stop right there. “He came to Jesus by night” doesn’t just mean after sundown and before sunrise. John’s telling us Nicodemus went secretly, covertly, discreetly. “He went by night.”
Why the hush-hush? Nicodemus was a Pharisee, a religious leader of God’s people who perceived Jesus as a threat. He didn’t want to be seen consorting with the enemy. Plus, Jesus’ teachings were deemed suspect at best, blasphemous at worst. So for Nicodemus, a Pharisee, an esteemed teacher himself, to go to Jesus to ask questions meant Nicodemus didn’t know everything and felt he could learn something from Jesus – the heretic. He didn’t want to be seen doing that. That’s called bad optics. It wouldn’t look good. So, he waited until the sun went down, looked both ways to make sure nobody was looking, and set off to see Jesus “by night.”
Likewise, you and I have things we don’t discuss or disclose in broad daylight. We talk about them … if we ever do … privately. Confidentially. “By night.” Our word this week in our Rest & Resilience Lenten Series is vulnerable. Dictionaries define vulnerable as “capable of being hurt or harmed physically, mentally, or emotionally”[1] Vulnerable: making oneself open to being ridiculed, shamed, shunned. Vulnerable: a Pharisee of metropolitan Jerusalem going to see a rabbi from rural Galilee. Vulnerable: Us as we are in broad daylight wearing the façades we wear that make it look like we have it all together – I’ve got this. I’m good – while deep down within there are parts of us that aren’t all together that we fear if others saw or knew about they’d turn away from us in a heartbeat. We have imperfections that make us vulnerable. Brene Brown, the wise, street-savvy sociologist who literally wrote the book on vulnerability thanks to a TED talk back in 2011 that went viral, says, “Life is all about connections. Relationships. Belonging and beling valued by others. Vulnerability is being haunted by the question Is there something about me that if other people know it or see it I won’t be worthy of connection? [2] I’d be looked at askance, be deemed damaged goods, be shunned, unworthy of love, respect, dignity. We’re all vulnerable as was Nicodemus, who went to Jesus “by night.”
Now for the good news. The Greek word for good news is evangelion from which we get the words evangelism and evangelist. The good news of the gospel according to John read by Linda our evangelist is that Nicodemus “came to Jesus by night.” Vulnerable though he was, Nicodemus didn’t walk away from Jesus; he walked to him. Hallelujah! Nicodemus didn’t walk away from Jesus out of the gnawing fear that Jesus would judge him, rebuke him, reject him. Rather, he walked to Jesus out of a courage born of the hope and trust that Jesus would receive him, welcome him … all of him. I went to a conference last year attended by many makes and models of human beings. The host opened it by saying, “All of you are welcome here and all of you is welcome here.” I heard in that welcome the good news of the gospel that I was in a safe place where I and the others attendees could risk being vulnerable – be ourselves – without fear. Or as Charlotte Elliott wrote in a poem two hundred years ago that was turned into hymn lyrics:
Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt;
Fightings within, and fears without,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!
Just as I am, Thou wilt receive,
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve;
Because Thy promise I believe,
O Lamb of God, I come, I come!
Vulnerable though he was, Nicodemus didn’t walk away from Jesus; he walked to him.
And that made all the difference! Nicodemus was “born again.” Now, I know that phrase is interpreted and understood in all kinds of ways but undergirding them all is a bedrock belief of the Christian faith that God in Jesus Christ working through the power of the Holy Spirit can change lives. Unconditionally love. Redeem. Heal. Save. The good news of the gospel is there is a God and a Christ in whose presence our vulnerability is safe and our imperfections are met with compassion, understanding, and grace. What’s more, there are people in this world who are flesh and blood channels of God’s redeeming grace with whom we can entrust our vulnerability – precious friends, counselors, therapists, pastors. And there are groups of people we can go to rather than run from with our vulnerability – small groups, 12-step groups, support groups. Nicodemus walked to Jesus, not away from him, and that made all the difference. He was “born again.”
Jesus himself was able to be vulnerable. In the face of death and grief – the death of his friend Lazarus and the grief of Lazarus’ sisters Mary and Martha, “Jesus wept.” No stiff upper lip stuff for him. “Big boys don’t cry?” You want to tell Jesus that? In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus crumpled to knees and prayed, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak” (Matthew 26:41). Translation: I don’t know if I can do this. An admission of self-doubt and weakness from the Son of God! And on the cross – stripped, exposed, humilated. Talk about vulnerability! – “My God, my God why hast thou forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34). The Son of God doubting God? The word is vulnerable. The person is none other than Jesus. He who openly acknowledged his vulnerability welcomes those who can do the same. In his presence, our vulnerability is welcomed, valued, in-couraged.
Sadly, though the testimony of Scripture is that walking to Jesus brings new life, people have walked away from his churches over the past decades. There are many reasons, but one is that when some people mustered the courage to visit, they found some people who were not willing to be vulnerable – not authentic. Not real. They came because they heard there’s a God, a Christ, and a people with whom life can be shared together, its heights as well as its depths, where hurts and hopes can be held in a sacred trust, but instead they found superficiality at best, hypocrisy at worst, and walked away.
Broadway, at your best you’re a place people can walk to rather than away from – a safe place, a sanctuary, where vulnerability is met with grace and compassion, a place where Broad Hearts, Broad Minds, and a Broad Reach serve as channels of God’s healing grace – where people can be born again and again and again.
There are two dictums by which we can live life. One is a lie. The other is the gospel truth. One says, If you’re perfect, you’ll be loved. Which leads to an insatiable perfectionism, masking, repressing, or denying our imperfections, and judging others’ imperfections. It’s a loathsome, life-sucking lie the world foists on us: If you’re perfect, you’ll be loved. By contrast, the gospel truth Jesus offers us is You’re imperfect and you’re beloved. You’re a precious child of God. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. There’s no prerequisite for perfection to be loved by God. We’re all beloved. Period. So it is that Brene Brown wrote of the sense of release and peace experienced by people who were finally able to let their guard down and acknowledge their vulnerability in the right places among the right people. “They are able,” she says, “to let go of who they thought they should be to be who they are. They had the courage to be imperfect; had the compassion to be kind to themselves first and to others as well; and as a result of their vulnerability and authenticity, they found deep, lasting relationships with others.” People don’t walk away from people who are authentically, courageously vulnerable. They are drawn to them. If you’re perfect, you’ll be loved is a lie; You’re imperfect and you’re beloved is the gospel truth that leads to wholeness, being at peace with self and others – being born again.
Back to Nicodemus. How do we know he was born again, changed as a result of his going to Jesus by night? As evidence, I point to the fact that Nicodemus only appears three times in the Bible. The first time is here in chapter 3. Coming to Jesus night. The second time is in chapter 7:50-51 when he steps forward and defends Jesus in the face of his being arrested – Interesting! – and in chapter 19. John tells us that after Jesus was crucified, Nicodemus and a man named Joseph of Arimathea went to Pilate to ask for the body of Jesus in order to give him a proper burial. What courage it took to do that! How to account for that change from cowardice to courage? He was born again, born from above.
Our word is vulnerability. It’s a good word. A life-giving word. Vulnerable as in “Just as I am, Thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve.” Vulnerable as in “All of you are welcome here and all of you is welcome here.” Vulnerable as in Nicodemus, who at first came to Jesus by night, but at last came to him in broad daylight, courageous and resilient. Redeemed.
Let all God’s beloved imperfect people say AMEN
[1] https://www.britannica.com/dictionary/vulnerable
[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCvmsMzlF7o Her book is titled “The Power of Vulnerability: Teachings of Authenticity, Connections and Courage.”