Rev. Doug Floyd

Lent 2 2026
Rev. Doug Floyd
Genesis 12:1-9, Psalm 33:12-22, Romans 5:1-7, John 1:3-16

Nicodemus is puzzled.

Jesus just told him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”” (John 3:3, ESV)

How can a man be born again when he is old?

Jesus is speaking mysteries in the dark. 

Nicodemus has come to see Jesus in the evening. He acknowledges that Jesus has come from God. Even as his mind is befuddled by dark mysteries of the Spirit, he looks to Jesus for light and life.

When Jesus says, “unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God,” Nicodemus cannot understand. And if we weren’t so acquainted with the term “born again” we might also struggle to understand. Jesus is using language in a way that is both familiar and unfamiliar.

I say this as a reminder that Scripture is filled with confusing terms that we have often become so familiar with hearing and using that we fail to see and hear the oddity.

It is okay when a text seems puzzling. This is a good place to start asking questions, meditating, and listening afresh.

Nicodemus is in a good spot. He is puzzled but not arguing. Confused but open to Christ.

When Jesus says “born again” he is using an earthy word that has to do with bearing offspring and a spiritual word that has to do with “being born from above.”

Jesus clarifies that this is not a physical birth to an earthly parent. “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” (John 3:5, ESV)

To be born again is to be born of water and spirit. The church often considered water to mean by baptism and the outpouring of the Spirit. Of course, this discourse takes place before the church. It is possible that water and spirit are linked together in one phrase. Both refer to this mysterious, miraculous birth from above. But it could still refer to earth and heaven. The birth from above happens to people on earth. Like Nicodemus, they hear the word of truth, the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As they hear this good news, the Spirit of God bears witness in their heart. This is a two-fold action. We hear, we respond by the Spirit. 

In this respect, we might accept the witness of the church about baptism. It is a physical act where we invoke the Holy Spirit to come down. In fact, the walk of faith is a walk that is both earthly and heavenly. 

We worship individually and together, we pray for one another, we anoint with oil, we receive the Eucharist. In all these physical actions, we ask the Spirit to come. And yet, we actively participate. The walk of faith is not simply passive submission, but rather active obedience.

Then Jesus continues, “Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”” (John 3:7–8, ESV)

In Christ, we are Spirit people. It could be as mystical as Philip baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch and then suddenly being whisked away by the Spirit to another city. But it can be as mundane as Paul telling the Jews and Gentiles of Galatia to share a common meal together.

God’s Spirit reveals His glory wherever we go. In Romans 14:17, we read, “For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.” (Romans 14:17, ESV)

Now I want to tease two aspects of being Spirit people. Spirit people walk in the way of the cross. And yet, Spirit being are becoming children again. As Jesus says in Matthew, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3–4, ESV)

We are born again, a new creation. We are turning and becoming like children. If we follow the trajectory of Scripture we see how sin caused to humans lose the childlike innocence and taint the earth with murder, sexual violence, greed, and more. As Paul reminds us in Romans 1,

“They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil, disobedient to parents, foolish, faithless, heartless, ruthless. Though they know God’s righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them.” (Romans 1:29–32, ESV)

In his book Orthodoxy, G.K. Chesterton writes, “It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.” But how do we reconcile this with 1 Corinthians 13:11? “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.” (1 Corinthians 13:10–11, ESV)

In the Corinthian passage, Paul is talking about maturing in love, and he speaks of leaving childish ways. The Bible does distinguish between childish and childlike. Paul has been challenging the Corinthian community to quit competing over gifts, status, wealth, and more. They claim to be the Spirit people but act like immature children. All the gifts of the Spirit are not for self-glorification but for love to one another.

In our world of sin, people physically grow up, develop abstract thinking skills, get jobs, and have families. And yet, sin makes us childish. How many executives and politicians treat fellow employees as beneath them, or make decisions rooted in their own egoism?

We might speak of sin as childish immature behaviors. At the same time, we might also speak of sin as blinding us, crippling us. We grow old in sin and can no longer see or rejoice in the glory of God all around us. These images of childishness and growing old are meant to help us understand the nuances of how sin robs us of innocence.

During this Lenten season, I keep being drawn to these images of new creation, rebirth, childlikeness. We are no longer old creation but new creation in Christ. It could be like walking through a nightmare of my own self-centered world and waking up to the joy of and in the Lord.

When I had cataract surgery, I could literally see more colors. My eyes were opened and renewed like a child. Childlikeness is about opening our eyes and heart to God wonder and glory all around us. In “Celebration of the Discipline” Richard Foster writes, “We who follow Christ can risk going against the cultural tide. Let’s with abandon relish the fantasy games of children. Let’s see visions and dream dreams. Let’s play, sing, laugh. The imagination can release a flood of creative ideas, and it can be lots of fun. Only those who are insecure about their own maturity will fear such a delightful form of celebration.”

Even as I read these words, I’m aware of guttural reactions to Foster’s word like, “Well, we have responsibilities. We can’t just play the fantasy games of children.” What if we could be childlike and still fulfill our responsibilities?

Jesus meets a blind man, spits into mud, covers his eyes, and tells him to go wash. That does not sound very adult. It sounds like the imagination of a child become manifest. The late Southern Baptist preacher Jack Taylor told the story of his son who had a financial collapse and ended up declaring bankruptcy. Jack grieved with his son, but then threw a party in his son’s honor. He was opening a new future for his son.

We grieve in life, but we also discover ways to see God’s new future breaking in all around us. We celebrate God’s goodness in the land of the living even as we cry out for the in-breaking of His grace in our lives and the lives of those around us. 

C.S. Lewis was an Oxford Don. He speaks of his conversion as being “Surprised by Joy.” The wonder of his childhood came out through his faith. His “Chronicles of Narnia” create a magical childhood world that introduced many children and adults to the wonder of faith in God. 

How does this childlike redemption connect with a call to the cross? I once told my professor that play seems to be at the heart of all creation. He thought about it, and then asked me, “What about suffering and pain?”

Then I had to think on his question. Eventually, I thought about Hebrews 12. Verses one and two read, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” (Hebrews 12:1–3, ESV)

We, like Christ, are running to joy. Yes, we may endure suffering, we may face pain, and we will die one day. But oh the joy, the joy, the joy set before us. There are many tales of martyrs singing at their death. Thomas More was cracking jokes on his way to be killed. 

During this Lent, may we all set our faces toward the cross, letting go of every weight, every distraction, all unforgiveness, every bitter thought, all weariness, all self-centered childish thoughts and behaviors. Let us run to Christ, our hope, our joy, and the true and only fulfillment of our desires. Let us be open to God’s surprise. God’s call to reveal His love and life to those near and far. Let us run afresh into God’s new creation that is breaking out all around us.