Jesus said, “You’re absolutely right. Take it from me: Unless a person is born from above, it’s not possible to see what I’m pointing to—to God’s kingdom.” John 3:3 (MSG)

He pulled his cloak tightly around his body and headed out the door, looking both ways, left and right, thankful that the darkness made him not much more than a shadow and cleared the streets for him to walk them alone.

At least, that's what he told himself. “I have to go in the dead of night. It's more practical. No Crowds, more time, less waiting.”

Yes, that was it.

And yes, he was ignoring that ’tap on the shoulder’ from within that whispered the truth that he didn’t want to be seen, he didn’t want to have to explain himself to his peers, and he didn’t want to face what was happening in him just yet. He didn’t want to tell the council – the men he had grown with, served with, broken bread with – of the doubt and ache within his soul that he could no longer satisfy.

The stars were bright, his path was well lit. He walked down from his home on The Temple Mount and deep into the outer streets of the city where the streets become less defined, wandering here and there around structures housing people that had come to him for wisdom over the years. And while his feet followed this path, his mind wandered around his beliefs… and beyond them. Would he find the right house?

Maybe he should turn back.
Maybe his questions should stay unanswered.
Maybe he was childish, weak, undisciplined.

No.

He could not deny the twisting within that told him something new was coming. There was more to the Messiah than just political freedom and social justification. Not just something more, but something else… beyond the hunger for cultural redemption was a hunger for something he could not quite put his finger on.

And this hunger, this starvation, drove him on, through the black of night and the darkness of his heart.

He had much to lose. His fortune, his reputation, and, the way things were going, even his own safety and that of his families could be at stake. The fear of what people would think and do, what his friends would say – they would have MUCH to say – was ringing in his ears.

But the questions in his soul were burning through logic and reason and drove him down the road, and around the last corner to the house where he knew the man would be.

He walked through the old door and looked for the young teacher he had felt magnetically drawn to since the time Simeon spoke of holding him as a child on the Temple steps. He had listened from afar to his teachings and watched him as he talked and walked with the people… His eyes searched the room for the radical that was upsetting many of his colleagues and friends, the revolutionary whom he desperately hoped could show him the new way. He could sense it; it came to him on the wind, surrounded him during morning prayers, and slipped by as he ate with his family… but he couldn’t find it or take hold of it.

“Master, we know that you are a teacher from God, for no one performs the miracle signs that you do, unless God’s power is with him.”

Did he say the words? All he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest for the exhilaration and terror of discovery. The words flew out of his mouth in a rush of adrenalin, hope, and fear.

“Nicodemus, listen to this eternal truth: You can perceive the kingdom realm of God, but you must first experience a rebirth.”

(John 3:2-3 The Passion Translation)

And then he felt it all go… everything he used to know. Everything he had taught and believed to be true for the last 50 years as a Pharisee and a member of the Sanhedrin slipped through his fingers. He gave himself to the unraveling somehow knowing that this man in front of him would be the only one who could wrap him back up again – wrapped in grace – and show him how to live within the mystery of his Kingdom of blood and hope and glory and love.

Rebirth.
A new start.
A home coming.

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