Eternal God, grant that we who are born of water and the Spirit and made members of Christ may be one in inward faith and outward service; through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

In keeping with the Lenten theme of last week--who won?  Who is winning?  Who will win?  Who is the current winner of the past few days?

Uno won!  Did you see the story in the newspaper and on television?  The beagle, Uno, won the Westminster Dog show in New York .  Twenty four hundred dogs, all sizes, all shapes and temperaments, register and proudly parade, tails wagging vigorously, into the arena for a week-long beauty pageant. Never in the history of this famous dog show has  a plain old hound dog, a beagle, won the staid pageant. One person attending the show says he had never heard such enthusiastic applause at a Westminster show.   History has been made by this proud, happy beagle and his owner.

We shall come back to Uno.  Let’s look now at another competition, the one in today’s Gospel story. As the debate continues between these two highly esteemed characters Jesus and Nicodemus--who is winning?

“Are you a teacher of Israel , and yet you do not understand these things?” Jesus challenges Nicodemus.

Nicodemus is no slouch.  He is one of the most highly respected Jewish leaders of the community.  Nicodemus’s job as a Pharisee is to answer the questions everyone else might have about the Creator, the history of the Hebrew people and their faith. Nicodemus has known years of training, education and preparation.  He is the person of wisdom.  Nicodemus hears of this “rabbi” – a teacher, roaming the area around Jerusalem whose name is Jesus.   What Nicodemus hears from the rumors touches a place of curiosity, a hunger, a yearning for clarity, maybe even a new truth.  However, for Nicodemus to admit his curiosity might be anathema to his Jewish colleagues.  There is no way Jesus could offer a new truth.

In cover of darkness, Nicodemus sneaks away from his comfortable headquarters and travels to Jesus for conversation, for answers, for a truth. 

Jesus’ responses to Nicodemus’ questions are foreign, disconnected from conventional wisdom. Jesus speaks of “being born from above,” of “wind blowing,” of being “born of the spirit.”

“Just how can these things be?” Nicodemus asks in frustration. 

Who is winning this conversation?

Nicodemus represents the past, a status quo, traditional understanding of God’s law.  Jesus represents a new truth, a break from the past.  Nicodemus is from the established temple.  Jesus is from the more primitive countryside.

For a moment we can step into the shoes of Nicodemus, we who are part of the Christian family, for many of us are baptized, confirmed Christians.  We are Episcopalians.  We have a sense of the faith – an assurance of the presence of God.  We know the Ten Commandments.  In fact, we just now in our worship service recited those Commandments which abide in our hearts, and we confessed our inability to be obedient to all of God’s Law. What more do we really need to know?

Jesus’ answers force Nicodemus to envision a new womb. If Nicodemus is to be born again, he  must begin again,  new life from a new womb,  just as at his physical birth as a baby. Nicodemus does not understand the image.   This is new, maybe even intimidating. 

We are beckoned to the new womb, are we not?  During a season like Lent, we go in cover of dark wilderness and face the demons in our imaginations, our lives. We are challenged, feeling fairly certain about Christian fundamentals, but perhaps missing something. Why does one person, especially one who does all the “right things,” come down with an illness—and another person remains healthy?  Why is there a random blizzard in a warm country—or, much worse, a tornado or hurricane with little or no warning, against all odds, out of season or proportion? Why in our civilized nation of good and promise does a crazed shooter fire guns at innocent students and teacher? Why should the last be first, the first be last, who is this Jesus, doesn’t he skew all at we have understood to be right?

Nicodemus hears Jesus’ answers to questions, but he seems to be unsure.  “How can this be?” 

“Who is winning?”

Nicodemus seems to be reaching down to an unborn Nicodemus, and in this internal struggle a new Nicodemus is evolving.

“How can this be?”  Is that a question coming from some place deep within our souls? “How can a common hound possibly win this world-renowned show of exotic canines, how can a simple man from a peasant family shake my experienced, learned faith?  “How can this be?” 

Writer G. K. Chesterton once said that you can only find truth with logic if you have already found truth without logic.

“Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

“There is no suffering greater than what is caused by the doubts of those who want to believe,” wrote novelist Flannery O’Connor. “What people don’t realize is how much religion costs.  They think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is the cross.  It is much harder to believe than not to believe.”

“Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?”

“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,” Jesus explains to Nicodemus.  “So it is everyone who is born of the Spirit.”  

Nicodemus wants desperately to know how to win the prize, how to achieve for himself this life beyond his grasp, a life truly in the presence of God. 

As we live into the crosswinds of Lenten wilderness, choosing between the comfort of the familiar and the challenge of the cross, we discover a new birthing place, perhaps a more true faith.

“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.”

Amen.