After looking over this week’s passages I realized I should
open this sermon with the same quote I opened my last sermon with—because,
well, it bears repeating—and it fits… So here it is again: “Christianity
started in Palestine as an experience, it moved to Greece and became a
philosophy, it moved to Rome and became an institution, it moved to Europe and
became a culture, it moved to America and became a business”.
Our passages today from Romans and the gospel of John,
describe this experience in different ways—but it is the same experience in
each. They are speaking of rebirth,
renewal.
In our Romans passage, Paul contrasts life in the Spirit with
what he calls life in the flesh. For
Paul life in the flesh was a self-centered life. Now a self-centered life
is difficult to describe. But I’ll give it a shot—a self-centered life is one
that is dominated by one’s own drive to satisfy one’s own desire for power, security,
control, pleasure, etc..It is basically the conditioned, competitive, sense of
a separate self we all end up with by the time we’re 5 years old. The early
Christians called this self-centeredness several things, sin, life in the
flesh, the old self, etc..and they were right when in saying that everyone, the
whole world, suffers from this condition.
It is the normal evil we all deal with. Evil or hell is simply the usual self-centeredness that is life outside
the Spirit or kingdom. Remember, Jesus thought the whole world was drunk on
this power trip—and Paul said that anything
that is not faith is sin. Both recognized that wars, corrupt systems, and
their root, plain old fear, come out of this condition. Why does all this nasty
stuff come out of self-centeredness? Because big or obvious evils are simply
the result of everyday self-advancement, self-importance, and ego gratification.
We create things like war and poverty when we allow ourselves to perpetuate an ambitious, competitive, cruel, society.
Self-centeredness is very difficult to spot until you have an
experience that is beyond it. When that happens it’s like walking out of a
small room you’ve spent your whole life in and entering a much larger room. You
then look back on the room you just left and say “man that was one small,
cramped little space—of course, before you left it you thought that was all
there was. But now, thanks to the bigger room you just walked into, you realize,
borrowing Jesus’ words, that “your father’s house has many rooms.”
Paul likens that experience to being adopted by God. When one
is adopted one is taken into a new house. When one is adopted one goes from one
reality into another, New Reality, that replaces the old. And such renewal only takes place with an ending—what ends? The old reality.
This is our problem—we like
continuity—the old self likes continuity—but with continuity there is
disintegration—even with the modified continuity that too often passes as
change. Only in ending is there renewal. In Christianity we recognize this as
crucifixion and resurrection, as dying to self, and divine adoption. Where the
caterpillar ends the butterfly begins. Paul’s experience of the risen
Christ brought an end to his old life as a Pharisee—therefore it brought
renewal, it brought adoption into God’s household. This is why baptism was so
important for Paul—it meant an end to
the old identity as Jew or Greek, male or female. Does it still mean that to
us?? It meant one was adopted into New Life in the church—the body of Christ on
earth.
In our passage today, Paul says that we become equal to
Christ when we live life in the Spirit. Think about that—equal to Christ. We
become Christ on earth when we transcend self. The body of Christ cannot be the
body of Christ if we don’t encourage and teach one another to transcend self. We
live in God’s household when we transcend the competitive, ambitious,
self-centered society that is the household of the old self.
John’s passage calls this experience rebirth. John is not
describing simply believing in and adhering to the rules and moral codes of
Christian corporate life when he speaks of rebirth. He is describing the
experience of transcending self.
In verse 2 Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night. That means
Nicodemus was still caught in the darkness of the world—the spiritual
blindness, the usual self-centeredness, the usual hell of the world.
And Jesus, famously,
tells him, “Unless someone is born anew it’s not possible to see God’s
kingdom”. This is
tough language. The experience of transcending the old self is a must if one is to see God’s Kingdom. All
of the world’s spiritual geniuses agree on this. John agrees with Paul—the old
self must end. Only in ending is there renewal. With continuity it is impossible to see God’s kingdom. This flies
in the face of our culture of self-improvement. Just look at television—we are
absolutely obsessed with self-improvement. Self-improvement
is merely modified continuity—not self-transcendence. Self-improvement is
the strengthening of the thing we are meant to put down. And that is not
Christianity—Christianity is about self-ending. Because that is renewal. Just
as physical death is the instrument of eternal renewal in nature—so is the
death or ending of the self the instrument of spiritual renewal.
How are we to be reborn?—how are we to be adopted into God’s
household?
Through turning to God—through offering ourselves wholly and
completely to God in deep forms of prayer and meditation. As Paul says, by offering ourselves as a
living sacrifice. The great theologian and mystic Dietrich Bonhoeffer once
said, “Teaching about Christ begins in
silence”. We don’t like silence much
in our culture—we love noise—we love big talkers—we love things that make
noise. We love self-promoters and loud, big-selves. Squeaky wheels get the
grease. This is often true in church life—trust me, I just went to annual
conference and there was a lot of noise.
For the good of our
spiritual lives, and our world, we need
to learn to experience silence as the living presence it is. (Rohr??) Remember,
in Genesis it is the Spirit that moves over a silent void. Everything first
comes from nothing—from the great
silence—the pregnant silence. It is in this great silence that our selves
end—and therefore it is this great silence that brings renewal.
It is in the great
silence that we are adopted into God’s household. It is in this great silence
that we are renewed, born anew. Amen.
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