John 3 - "The Capacity for Wonder"

“The Capacity for Wonder”

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ 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.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?

“Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

“For God so loved the world that God gave God’s only Son, so that everyone who believes in God may not perish but may have eternal life.

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

When I was in Seminary, I took a class on the book of Revelation at Candler School of Theology. One of our assignments was to draw a picture, as literally as possible, of the throne room scene from Revelation 4. It’s a scene similar to that of Isaiah 6 that Steve read earlier. John describes angels and thrones and precious gems and flaming torches. There are tons of details and with 20 or so students in the class, we ended up with 20 very different pictures of the scene. Our professor used this to explain how impossible it is to take biblical prophecy “literally.” When we rely on words alone, we can be tempted to believe that we are describing heaven literally. But when we had to try and draw the scene, it became immediately clear that we were going to be making a lot of artistic interpretations. There is no such thing as a literal drawing of a thing we’ve never seen. 

            Trying to literally understand an image of God in heaven reminds me of dinosaurs. Yes, dinosaurs. We all have an idea in our minds of what dinosaurs “really” look like. If you were an adult during or after the 1990s, it probably looks like this –>

Thank you, Steven Spielberg. But the thing about those dinosaurs is that the scientists and artists drawing them were making artistic interpretations. They have only bones to work with and so their minds fill in the gaps with what they think makes sense and the rest of us say, “Yes. This is definitely what dinosaurs looked like.” But what if we used that same method of using only a skeleton to draw animals of today? The authors of the children’s book “All Yesterdays” wondered just that. Perhaps we would draw a baboon like this:

or a Zebra like this…  

or my favorite, swans like this… 

We look at these photos and laugh because they look nothing like furry, feathered creatures we know and love. We laugh because we realize that there is likely far more that we don’t know about dinosaurs than we do know. Maybe there’s more we don’t know about everything. 

That “not knowing” has been the catalyst for the scientific revolution; for exploration and discovery. But it has also been the cause of anxiety and fear. What if what we don’t know can hurt us? We get anxious and afraid of all that we don’t know, and if we’re honest with ourselves, there is little we know less about than the Trinity. This idea that God is somehow both three unique persons and still only one God so confusing. Like I shared with the kids, every time we try to simplify or “dumb it down” we end up using metaphors that are actually heresies. God doesn’t have three parts like clover or three modes like water or emanate from the “real” God like the sun. The trinity is more complicated than our childlike metaphors can contain.

I think there are two approaches we can toward tackling the divine. The first is to be like Nicodemus. Nicodemus was Pharisee, a leader in the Jewish faith who wanted concrete answers to his questions. When Jesus told him that, “no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above” Nicodemus was confused and frustrated. “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” He wants to figure out what being “born again” really means. I think Nicodemus has convinced himself that if he fully understands, if really gets what Jesus is saying, then he will feel secure in his faith and his identity. 

This approach to the mystery of who God is and how God acts is about seeking security in knowledge. I get it. I went to Seminary because of Hannah’s song from 1 Samuel where she sang, “the LORD is the God of knowledge.” I wanted that knowledge. And not just for myself—for my students who were asking questions I didn’t have the answers to. But what I’ve learned since then is no one has all the answers. The ones that claim they do are probably trying to sell you something. We can spend all our lives trying to fully understand the Trinity. We can look for definitive answers and tell ourselves that knowing the right answers will make us good Christians. 

But as much as I love learning, especially about God, I know that approach does not bear good fruit. Seeking solid answers above all else often requires denouncing the truths that others have found. It means being afraid that God might show us new things. And an unwillingness to learn and grow is indeed, strange fruit.

So there is another approach. An approach, not unlike what Jesus tells Nicodemus—being born again. Not just born of the Spirit, but practicing thinking like a child. At Southminster, we have an amazing program for children called “Children and Worship” which also known as “Godly Play.” My favorite part of Children and Worship is the kind of questions that kids are taught to ask. The kids are taught to ask questions that start with, “I wonder…” 

I wonder what it means to be born again?

I wonder what Nicodemus did after he talked to Jesus?

I wonder if he was still confused?

I wonder what Isaiah felt when he saw God on the throne in Heaven?

I wonder if that is what Heaven will look like to us?

I wonder what God thinks about us? 

To wonder is to imagine what is possible. Even the dictionary definition of wonder is beautiful—"a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.” Children tend to be good at wondering. They ask questions that could have many answers. I don’t want to overly romanticize childhood because of course, children also ask, “why? Why? Why?” They do want concrete answers. But I think kids are better at wondering than adults are. They are better at asking questions that could have thousand beautiful answers. Better at asking questions that might not have a right answer. They are like the scientists who draw dinosaurs by asking, “I wonder if this one was covered in beautiful feathers or a hump like a camel?” Who knows, after all?

When was the last time you felt a sense of wonder? When you felt “a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable.” For myself, I think of an incredible sunset, seeing Simone Biles’ insane new vault routine, and watching a helicopter fly on Mars. All of these have scientific explanations of light hitting dust particles, what the human body is apparently capable of, and what humans can achieve together. We can explain it and perhaps for some, that is the right approach. But explanations can also turn into cynicism. And wonder is the antidote to cynicism. We can choose to adopt a sense of wonder at the magnificent things around us. For life itself is a wonder. There are thousands of things that have to happen exactly right for a human being to come into this world and yet it happens every day. Every day, we are surrounded by ordinary miracles. 

When we are faced with big questions and a hard, broken world, one of the bravest things we can do is develop the capacity for wonder. Developing a capacity for wonder is a choice and it will probably take some effort because the world is not particularly aimed toward wonder. We are told to seek answers and certainty. There is time and place for answers and certainty, but I believe it is not every time and every place. Sometimes, the best thing we do is stand in awe and wonder at the things we cannot understand. The sparkle of sunlight on the water, the laugh of an infant, the radical act of forgiveness, and the God who created us out of God’s great love. We can look at the handiwork and witness of the Triune God and say, “You are a wonder that I cannot comprehend.” For our God comes to us with so many names and descriptions. God is a Father, a mother hen, a friend, an advocate, a redeemer, a strong tower, a mighty fortress, a wind, and a good shepherd. We are not supposed to have God all figured out. 

So if you feel like Nicodemus, sneaking up in the night to ask the hard questions, let me remind you that God met Nicodemus right where he was at. Nicodemus isn’t a villain or a story of what not to do. No, he was a man who got to talk to Jesus face to face. He got to ask his questions and hear the good news that God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. What a wonderful thing from a wonderful God.

My friends, we can choose how we look at this world and the God that created it. We can look with fear or skepticism or critical condemnation. We can focus on the things that irritate or enrage us. We can find so much to complain about that we give up and say, “no God could create all this and still be good.” Or, we can choose to have a capacity for wonder. We can choose to see the ordinary miracles all around us and signs of God’s magnificence. We can be irritated by the cicada carcasses littering our yards or we can, “why kind of creative, silly God creates a bug that lives underground for 17 years? How ridiculous and wonderful God is!” If we look carefully, we can see where God is at work in this world. We do not have to fully understand, but when we hear God’s call, let say, “Here I am! Send me!” Amen.