In Order That the World Might Be Saved, a sermon based on Numbers 21: 4-9 and John 3: 1-21, preached on March 10, 2024

Some Sundays each year focus on a particular person in the Bible. Every Sunday, our focus is on Jesus, but Mary has a Sunday a few weeks before Christmas. John the Baptist has a Sunday. The Sunday after Easter, the disciple Thomas always takes center stage, and this Sunday, most years, here in the middle of the season of Lent, the spotlight goes to Nicodemus, a leader of the Jewish people who had been persecuting Jesus but now sneaks off under the cover of darkness to find out more about this radical Rabbi who has captured so much attention. Nicodemus doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s gone to see Jesus; that’s why he goes at night, and when I think about Nicodemus, I think about all the people, including myself, who have struggled to step out into the light. There’s a great Jerry Clower story called “The Chauffeur and the Professor.” The story goes that a genius-level professor has been going around the nation making an incredible speech with the same chauffeur listening the whole time. The chauffeur tells him that he’s memorized the professor’s speech and can probably make that speech better than the Great PhD ever could. Even though he hasn’t graduated from the great school of minds, he’s an unlettered chauffeur, but he’s sure he can make that speech. The Professor, wanting to put this too-big-for-his-britches chauffeur back in his place, agrees to let him try. They swap clothes on the way to the next venue, so before this huge university audience is the chauffeur wearing the professor’s clothes, and the professor is in the back wearing the chauffeur’s clothes. Up before the audience of educated students, the chauffeur made that speech. In fact, in Jerry Clower’s words, “He forever shelled down the corn. He shelled the corn all the way to the cobb.” Translation: He made the speech really well. The crowd, so amazed, stood and clapped a standing ovation, then began throwing their books into the air, shouting in jubilation over the most enlightening speech they’d ever heard. Once they had been calmed down, the university president invited the crowd, if they would like, to ask their speaker any questions. Now, that meant trouble. The chauffeur had the speech memorized, but hadn’t thought about the Q and A. A very intelligent young man lifted his hand and asked the most detailed question you’ve ever heard. Something about carbon dating, stratospheres, and the layers of the earth’s crust. The chauffeur dressed up like a professor listened to the question. You would imagine that he was sweating, but he kept his cool, took off his glasses like this and said, “Young man, as long as I’ve been giving this speech throughout North America’s most prestigious universities, that’s about the simplest question I’ve ever heard. I’m surprised this university let in someone who would ask a question that simple. In fact, it’s so simple, I’ll just ask my chauffeur to stand up here and answer it.” Now why didn’t the chauffeur in professor’s clothes come clean? Why continue the charade? This morning, as we turn our attention to Nicodemus, consider with me the incredible appeal of the light. Consider with me this Jesus, who was the Truth incarnate. He was the One who gave the blind man his sight. Who saved the woman caught in adultery. Who preached the Gospel to the masses. Who was all the time seeking the lost and the lame, going around forgiving the sins of shame-ridden people and setting them free. That Light must have been so awe inspiring that even among those who persecuted Him were some who were compelled by His words, yet not all of them stepped out into the Light to follow Him in public. In fact, here we have Nicodemus who will only go to visit Him under the cover of darkness. Why? It’s the same reason that the chauffeur didn’t come clean. It’s the same reason that we will not hear any presidential contender say this campaign season: Well, I was wrong about that. It’s the same reason it’s so hard for some men to stop and ask for directions. It’s the same reason it’s so hard for any one of us to say the words “I’m sorry” to the people we’ve hurt. Considering Nicodemus, his whole life was built around his identity as a leader in his community, and because all the other leaders were busy persecuting Jesus, when he thought about following Him, he had to consider the cost of stepping out into the light. It’s not always easy to step out into the light. Jesus says, “the truth will set you free,” which is true, but first it will sting a little. First, the truth will cost you something. I’ve heard of a man who knew something was wrong. He felt bad enough to make an appointment with the doctor, yet on the day of his appointment, he drove to the doctor’s office parking lot, parked his car, but never went inside. I’ve heard of a parent who suspected his daughter was suffering. He knew something was wrong but didn’t dig deep enough to find out. Not knowing was more appealing than finding out the truth. There is always something dangerously appealing about the darkness of denial. Hiding from the truth in the shadows feels kind of comforting. And stepping out into the light is dangerous. Consider what Nicodemus might have lost should one of his colleagues seen him talking with Jesus? Nicodemus was a leader in his community. He was wealthy. He had standing. What would his friends say if they heard he had gone off to learn from Jesus? What would the other children say to his sons and daughters at school if word got out? Don’t be fooled. Stepping out into the light always costs us something. The darkness has an appeal all its own, but if you’re tired of living a lie, If you’re ready for true healing, If the charade has lost its appeal then step out into the light. Whether you are in the midst of a difficult season of your marriage and you’re scared to ask for help, or you’ve been nursing an addiction and are worried about what will happen if you let someone know; Whether the debt is piling up or the brokenness is about to get the best of you, I call on you to step out into the light to reveal your wounds to the Great Physician. We all fear that condemnation or rejection will come with revealing our wounds. And revealing our wounds will cost us something. The truth will always cost us something, yet remember that first Scripture lesson, how the Israelites were bitten by the vipers, and in revealing their wounds, they were healed. Likewise, the Son came into the world not to condemn the world, but that all might be saved through Him. Leave the darkness behind. Step out into the light and be saved. Amen.