Sermon, Lent 2A, John 3:1-17

Last week, being the first Sunday in Lent, had a heavy focus on sin. The liturgy changed, opening with the penitential order, exhortation and confession; and we began using the contemporary version of the Lord's Prayer because it explicitly uses the word 'sin'.

The first reading was from Genesis and was the story of how sin entered the world. It was the story of Eve and the snake and the silent man. In the epistle, Paul wrote how the sin of one man led to the condemnation of all, while the righteousness of one man leads to the justification of all. And in the gospel we heard how Jesus was tempted in every way as we are -- Eat. You won't die. You'll be like God -- yet did not sin.

Through the liturgy and the lessons we were reminded that sin is and always will be a part of our lives. Through that same liturgy and those same lessons, though, we are also reminded that it is God who gives us life. We heard it in the liturgy with our confession of sin and our reception of the bread of life, the body of Christ; and we heard it in the lessons with God creating humans in the first place and followed up by the free gift of grace that leads us to eternal life.

That movement from sin to forgiveness and death to life is where we are today.

In classic literature and cinema, dark represents evil and light represents good. Think about those old westerns where the good guys wore white hats while the bad guys wore black hats. Star Wars is another good example where Darth Vader, all dressed in black, tries to get Luke to come over to the dark side. Or you may remember the movie Ghost, where the good people were surrounded and taken up by a bright light, while the bad people were swallowed up by darkness.

This imagery of light and dark is found in Scripture as well. "The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light." Christians interpret this passage from Isaiah to reference Jesus. And Jesus refers to himself as the light, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life."

In Scripture we are descendants of Adam and Eve. In the beginning God breathed on humanity and gave us life, forming us in God's own image. But, as our Eucharistic prayers say, we turned against God, betrayed his trust, fell into sin and became subject to evil and death. Because of that sin, we walk in darkness. We are subject to sin and death. "The wages of sin," says Paul, "is death."

When you read through the gospel of John, notice this interplay between light and dark: The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome it; John testifying to the light; People loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil; I am the light of the world.

Nowhere is this imagery more compelling that it is in John's version of the Last Supper. Jesus is with his disciples and tells them that one of the twelve chosen will betray him. They ask, "Lord, who is it?" Jesus answers, "It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread . . ."

He gives it to Judas, and John writes in Chapter 13, verse 30, "So after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night."

Dark and light. Sin and forgiveness. Death and life.

The gospel passage for today isn't just simply a story about a Jewish leader coming to see Jesus. For John, it is deeply significant. Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night. Whereas Judas leaves the light and goes into the darkness, Nicodemus leaves the darkness and comes into the light. Nicodemus comes to Jesus and we get the famous discussion about being born again; or, more accurately, being born from above.

From the Genesis story, humans were formed from the earth. We were born from God and of the flesh. It was in that state, however, in which we were tempted and became party to sin and death. But now, Jesus is saying those born from above, of water and the Spirit, are given eternal life. By being baptized with water in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, we, like Nicodemus, are drawn from the darkness into the light.

Now we don't know if Nicodemus was baptized or not, or what he thought of what Jesus was saying. We do know that he appears to have had some difficulty with what was being said.

Isn't that just like us sometimes? We stumble around in the dark trying to make our way, falling over shoes we thought were somewhere else and stubbing our toes on chairs, all the while wishing for a light. And if someone should suddenly show up and unexpectedly turn on the light, what do we do? "Ow!! Turn it off!!" we exclaim as we cover our eyes. We may stumble around, but sometimes we feel more comfortable in the dark. The light takes some getting used to.

We live our lives in sin, but we are drawn to the light. It is the light that gives us life. It is the light that destroys darkness.

Lent is like this: dark and light. Lent begins in the dark of winter. It is a time of prayer, fasting, reading and self-examination. It is a time when we work towards the unity and fellowship with each other and with God. As Lent progresses through the darkness, the days get longer and brighter until we reach spring and Easter Day. The season of Lent moves from darkness to light. As we progress through Lent, we are drawn to the light of Christ until, finally, on Easter Day we are able to sing, "The Light of Christ," as we see the morning light overcoming the darkness of night.

We are human. We do sin. We will die. But like God breathed life into humanity at the beginning, so does God's Spirit breath new life into us from above; and it is through water and that Spirit that we have eternal life. This Lent, remember that through the waters of your baptism and the breath of the Spirit you have been born from above and have life eternal. This Lent, follow the example of Nicodemus who came in from the darkness into the light of Christ. This Lent, look for ways to let the light of Christ shine through you so that others might also come in from the darkness into the light.