Trinity-B June
3, 2012
Isaiah 6:1-8; Psalm
29
Romans
8:12-17; John 3:1-17
In the year that King Uzziah died … there were no garage
sales.
In the year the King Uzziah died … professional athletes did
not tattoo their foreheads with religious shorthand such as “John 3:16”.
In the year the King Uzziah died … the Dalai Lama would not
have had more devoted Twitter followers than Justin Bieber does. As a matter of
fact, the New York Times reported yesterday, not only does the Dalai Lama rock
the world with his Tweets, but there are
“evangelical Christian leaders whose
inspirational message of God’s love perform about 30 times as well as Twitter
messages from pop cultural powerhouses like Lady Gaga.”[i]
I have to admit
that I feel a little bit like King Uzziah when I read that, because I don’t
really know what it means to say that some messages “perform” better on Twitter
than others. But it must be good.
I do get the point that a lot of people are talking about
God, asking questions about God, wondering about where they can find out more
about God – and about themselves and how they can live good lives. Of course,
this desire and longing for the courts of the Lord is nothing new – we humans
have always expressed it in the medium at hand: ancient papyrus, illuminated
manuscript, Gutenberg press, newsprint or Tweets all perform the same function.
“Woe is me!” humans have cried for centuries, and now they can tweet: “I am
lost, for I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean
lips!”
“Fifteen percent of adult Internet users in the United
States are on Twitter, and about half of those use the network every day,”[ii]
the Times tells us. Granted, that is mostly chaff – most conversation – even
face-to-face conversation is forgettable and trivial. But listen to this story
of Ann Voskamp, a mother of six who lives on a farm in Ontario:
Her book “One
Thousand Gifts,” about moments of everyday grace, started a Twitter
conversation that is still going 18 months after its publication.
Under the hashtag #1000gifts,
readers share their own moments, like “seeing the beauty in the mess” and
“sitting down at the table to eat dinner as a family.” Dozens of #1000gifts
posts are still sent every day.
Mrs. Voskamp says the network is successful as a source of
spiritual support because it is tailor-made for today’s culture. “In a fast
world, they get what they need from that one little tweet,” she said.[iii]
How much different is that Twitter culture from that of
Nicodemus, whom one preacher called “the Patron Saint of Seekers?” Not much
different, if you think about it. Nicodemus seems right in the middle of the
group that contemporary demographers call “the unchurched.” Look how Jesus
responds to this stranger in the midst of the community of disciples. If
Nicodemus walked into one of our meetings one night, twittering all the way, we
might ask, What are you doing here? This kind of church, where we still
remember when King Uzziah died, doesn’t seem to be your cup of tea.
In contrast to our derision, Jesus receives Nicodemus as a
pilgrim, a sincere religious seeker. Jesus welcomes him and his searching mind.
Jesus immediately senses that this learned Pharisee … is responding to
something in Jesus' teaching. He seems to know that Nicodemus is willing to
risk leaving behind the truth as he has known it in order to explore something
new. Jesus invites him into a new realm of insight, and takes Nicodemus
seriously even as he pushes him far beyond his comfort zone. Recognizing a
spiritual pilgrim who is starting down a path, Jesus seeks not to embarrass
Nicodemus, nor condemn him, but to offer him, instead, the possibility of new
life.[iv]
If the disciples spent all of their time talking with each
other, they would have missed Nicodemus entirely. Think of it this way: the
disciples were all updating their Facebook pages, making sure they “friended”
only their friends. They were a closed circle, facing inward, their knees
touching and their heads bent. But what Jesus is talking about, and what
Nicodemus is responding to, is the equivalent of a Twitter feed, which once you
send it, goes out into the world: “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.” Does Nicodemus come to Jesus
wanting a hard and fast answer? Or is he more like us, we who live in a time
when hard and fast answers don’t answer enough of the questions we have? O,
Nicodemus, Patron Saint of those of us who wonder where the Spirit of God is
taking us now: where is your hashtag when we need it?
Isaiah’s story from the days of King Uzziah is spooky and
mysterious and mythic. It’s an image of the Ancient of Days, and at first
glance you might think, what has this to do with us? With our experience of God?
But look at the last lines: “Whom shall I send and who will
go for us?” God is asking: who will tell God’s story? Who will bring God’s
message to a world that very much needs it? How we will answer that? In our
neighborhood, our community, our city, among our family and friends? Do we put
“John 3:16” up on billboards? Do we tweet messages of God’s love in
inspirational snippets? Do we set up a Good News telephone tree? Do we put
flyers in people’s shopping carts at Wegman’s?
Who will go for God into this world? Who will tell God’s
story, of how much God loves this world and all of us in it?
All of us are in church today because SOMEONE bothered to
tell us that story, and told it to us in the words we could understand. We know
what we will answer, don’t we, when God asks us, as God asks us every day: Who
will go for us? Here am I; send me.
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