Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you the 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 he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him 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” (John 3:9-17 NRSVUE).
“How can these things be” (3:9)? Nicodemus asks Jesus, which sounds like the kind of question someone asks when they have no earthly idea what to say. What do you mean, Jesus? How is birth “from above” possible? By what mechanism does it take place? Jesus gently pokes fun at Nicodemus’ religious credentials, saying “Are you the teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things” (3:10)? For all the time and energy Nicodemus has spent keeping the law and attempting to teach others (and there is no reason to doubt Nicodemus is a sincere man who has earnestly sought to follow after God and help others do the same), he has apparently failed to recognize a key element of spiritual renewal. Nicodemus has missed something important.
Jesus, after pointing out that Nicodemus’ religious training has failed him at this point, shares his own superior credentials as a first-hand witness to this spiritual truth. The best way to learn about spiritual truth is to hear from one who has encountered God face-to-face. This is Jesus, the Word of God (1:1). Jesus tells Nicodemus that he can speak about them authoritatively (using one of his favorite titles for himself, the “Son of Man”): “No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man” (3:13). Religious education can only get one so far, and if the one sent directly by God appears, it makes sense to look to him.
Many of us (I am thinking in particular of sexual and gender minorities here, but there is broader application) have encountered leaders with religious credentials—and while some have led well, at other times our experiences have not been positive. Religious credentials do not always indicate someone is able to provide real spiritual leadership, or facilitate real spiritual growth.
On the other hand, I know some of us have pursued our own religious credentials as well. Some of us have gone back to the biblical text in the original languages, earned theological degrees, or worked in ministry in self defense, as a way to prove ourselves. Religious credentials are good—but if they are not linked to a real relationship with Jesus, if they do not push us to look to Jesus and believe in his what he says, then we end up missing something important. In this conversation with Nicodemus, Jesus points out the flimsiness of these credentials if they do not lead to, or flow from, spiritual renewal and power. Jesus, the “light of all people” (1:4), offers to us that kind of renewal and power—and so he challenges us to look through mere appearances to truly encounter him.
Jesus drives this home by drawing upon a story from the Hebrew Scriptures (Numbers 21:1-9) in which God, sick of the grumbling of the Israelites, sends poisonous snakes to attack them in the desert. When Moses prays to God for mercy, God instructs him to craft a bronze serpent resting on a pole. When this bronze serpent is lifted up, any Israelite who looks upon it survives the poisonous bite of the real serpents. In the same way, Jesus calls Nicodemus (and through the biblical text, us) to look to Jesus to save our own lives.
It is interesting that God chooses to use a bronze serpent to heal his people from the snake bites; the cure, in this instance, looks very much like the sickness. In a similar way, when God sent his Son into the world, that Son was nothing to look at—and when Jesus is “lifted up,” he looks like a concise summary of the pain and ugliness of earthly life: abandoned by his friends, in excruciating pain, publicly humiliated. This is not what one would expect from someone sent from God, not a typical exaltation. But again, we are invited to look through mere appearances to encounter the Son of Man and only Son of God from whom our salvation comes.
Speaking plainly, Jesus then shares with Nicodemus some of the most well-known words in the entire Bible: “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him 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” (3:16-17). Notice Jesus does not say here, “God gave his only Son in order that he might come to love the world.” Love for the world is already there, and his desire is not to condemn the world, but to save it. Divine love for humanity is the motivation for the sending of his Son, not the product of it. It is out of an immense love of the world that God chooses to send his only Son to reveal the divine glory and invite those who have found themselves distanced from God (for whatever reason) into an intimate relationship.
Weirdly enough, I think this is the time I've ever consciously processed the fact that John 3:16 is something Jesus Himself personally said, and not just something John the apostle said. Perhaps due to the fact that it's just so widespread, and cited as "John 3:16", I think on some level I've always thought of it as similar to John saying "In the beginning was the Word" etc. But it's not! And that's so much cooler.