Born of the Spirit
February 17, 2008    Second Sunday in Lent
Romans 4:1-5,13-17    John 3:1-17

"The wind blows where it wills, and you hear the sound of it, but you
do not know where it comes from or where it goes."  Of all of the
elements that make up the universe – water, air, fire and water - air
is the one that is most elusive.  Water can be seen, felt and even
tasted.  Fire can be felt for certain, and seen as well.  Earth can be
smelled and seen and felt as the rich soil breaks down in your hands.
The wind is a different story.  We can feel the breeze as it blows.
We can see the result of its presence, but we cannot actually see the
wind itself.  This is how it is with the Holy Spirit, Jesus wants
Nicodemus to understand.  The Spirit moves in mysterious ways,
touching hearts and breezing through lives.  Her effects are certainly
felt, and often powerful, but we can't really pin her down.  All we
can do is make ourselves ready, prepare the space, and hope she shows
up.
For someone like Nicodemus, the concept of the spirit brought up all
kinds of control issues.  He was a powerful man, a man whom some
warned, could be dangerous to the Jesus movement if he chose to give
them trouble.  Someone like Nicodemus was used to getting what he
wanted when and how he wanted it, and so it was a particular challenge
to him that Jesus spoke so eloquently about the gifts of the Spirit,
but then in the same breath told Nicodemus that the Spirit could not
be pinned down or locked into place.  Jesus told Nicodemus that in
order to receive the gifts of the Spirit, he would have to be born
again.  This, for Nicodemus, was an impossibility.  And, even if it
had been physically possible, Nicodemus was so far emotionally from
his own childhood, that going back to that time was the furthest thing
from his mind.  The last thing a powerful man such as Nicodemus wanted
to do was to go back to such a time of personal vulnerability.
This vulnerability is perhaps the biggest challenge facing people who
desire the path of Christ.   We have all worked very hard to get to
where we are in our lives.  We have gathered our resources and created
beauty out of the brokenness.  We have taken what we had and built
upon it in order to fashion decent lives for ourselves, for our loved
ones, and for all of the other people who might depend on us.  When
the option of becoming vulnerable offers itself to us, it honestly
doesn't look all that appealing.  To be vulnerable would mean to risk
all that we are and all that we have for something less than certain.
The old adage warns us "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush."
Why risk what is losing what is certain?
This is the question that has brought people to Christ, to God, to
the Spirit, for centuries.  Why risk what is certain? – well, because
it isn't satisfying; because it doesn't feed my soul; it doesn't fill
up the emptiness that I feel.  Jesus said, "What is born of the flesh
is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit."  The part of
ourselves that is born of the flesh is quite content being flesh,
taking care of the needs of the flesh; but there is also an aspect of
us that is born of the Spirit and this aspect is not satisfied with
the things of the flesh.  What is born of the Spirit longs for spirit,
longs for fulfillment that can only be gained by those gifts that feed
the needs of the spirit.  And so we take the risk.  We let go of what
is in our hand, and we stretch out to receive the gifts that are "out
there," in the uncertain, uncontrollable world of Spirit.
My own journey with Spirit has taken me to places I didn't really
expect to visit.  My vulnerabilities have been tested and revealed
time and time again, mostly because I have chosen to be open to where
Spirit is leading me, rather than staying safely behind one label or
another.  I found myself exploring the natural world, looking out
there for clues about God and about the presence of the Holy in my
neck of the woods where I could have a firsthand experience of it.  I
found myself staying within a church structure that didn't perfectly
express the faith as I felt it boiling inside of me.  I found myself
stretching the boundaries of safety and security by getting to know
the mystical realms of Christian thought and other ancient teachings.
And in all of these places I found myself, I felt the calling of the
Spirit as she drew me deeper and deeper into faith.  There have even
been times when I have been surprised by the connections and
relationships pointed out to me by the work of the Holy Spirit – ties
that I may have not seen if it was left up to me.
Something I find especially challenging with regard to this particular
challenge of faith, is that often people assume that if you follow a
life of Spirit, then you are supposed to try to leave the flesh
behind, you are supposed to deny the flesh as something "less than"
the spiritual aspects of the self.  It may be my interactions with the
natural world, or with the depths of mystical tradition, but something
has kept me from pushing aside the values of being in a body,
"embodiment" as some theologians have called it.  Having a human body
is quite an amazing gift, if you want to go very far in this world,
especially if you plan on experiencing the world while you are here.
An ancient group that followed Jesus' teachings in early Christian
history, the Gnostics, attempted to make the argument that Christians
should basically do everything they could to ignore and even beat down
their bodies, in order to free their minds to more fully follow
Christ.  The problem with this idea is that Jesus came to earth in
human form, with a human body.  It seems unimaginable that he would
have done this unless there was some value to be gained in actually
experiencing life in the flesh.  To deny the value and usefulness of
one's own body naturally leads to devaluing the fact that Jesus came
to us in a body as well, and this just doesn't ring true.  So here we
are, both flesh and spirit, children of the heavenly realm and the
earthly as well.  The life we are invited to lead has the potential
for incredible depth if we are willing to make ourselves vulnerable to
the gifts and potential of all that God has designed us to be capable
of embracing.  Are we willing to be born of the Spirit just as we have
already been born of the flesh?  Are we willing to take the risks of
faith?

O Holy Spirit, draw us nearer to you.  Help us to experience all that
you have crafted for us, all that will open us to the wonders of life.
 May we embrace our being both flesh and spirit.  May we live this
life of balance between heaven and earth with skill and faith and
heart.  Amen.