How Will You Begin Again?
Genesis 12:1-4; John 3:1-17
This sermon does not take into account what has happened in the last 24 hours in our world (US at war with Iran). It does ask us to focus on the ongoing need to be born anew, restored, and redeemed. And this must be true in us as individuals if it is ever going to be true in this world. May God help us face our inner undoing this day. And we will entrust the world to God’s loving hands.
The title of this sermon is How Will You Begin Again, but it’s subtitle should be: Questions we ask in the dark. In Jen Hatmaker’s recent memoir titled, Awake, she begins telling how she was jolted awake in the middle of the night with the reality that in her marriage things were not as they seemed and hadn’t been for a long time. Hatmaker is a writer and speaker who for 20-something years was living the traditional Christian wife life. They married very young. He was an entrepreneurial, charismatic pastor. She was his partner in ministry and in life. They have five kids together. The memoir describes the sudden ending of that partnership, the difficult season that followed their breakup and subsequent divorce; and then, her own rebuilding of her identity, self-hood, and family apart from the relationship that had defined them for so long.[1] She begins again.
Awake moves through the feelings of trauma, betrayal, grief, anger, fear, and loneliness, to hope and determination. With a slew of friends, family by her side, and a good therapist, Hatmaker describes the heart wrenching middle trudging through one day at a time. She also describes a long season of soul-searching in which she mined her past beliefs and assumptions about marriage, partnership, and the roles we play in our own lives. In the final section of the book, which she calls Beginning – she asks, What if Mary Oliver is right and this is our one wild and precious life? What if… this whole life is ours to either grind our way through or throw our arms open for delight…wonder, beauty, joy, connection? …Are we really just helpless recipients of stalled, drained, broken things, or do we have agency? What if a life exists so full we would barely recognize it against our hustle and exhaustion and emptiness? Have we settled when we don’t have to? What if there is a different path, a different pace, a different peace? Hatmaker says, “I’m done sleepwalking through my own story. The Good Life is now, and I am its co-creator.”[2]
She asks so many honest questions in her memoir, like the one before us today, How can you begin again? The question assumes that there will be a need to do so. It’s not a matter of if, but when.
What are the questions we ask in the dark –the ones that feel too high-stakes to ask in the light; the ones that have been simmering all day long under the surface of busyness and daytime tasks. What we bring to God in the dark, Jesus wants us to bring into the light.
In the stories before us today, two of our ancestors of faith, Abram and Nicodemus, are faced with the cataclysmic prospect of starting all over. The Lord said to Abram that he wanted to make of him a great nation, but this would mean leaving his homeland, his family. At 75 years old, God calls Abram into a co-creator relationship, a covenant. God promised Abram his blessing: all the benefits of a good life in this world.
Just a few verses later after Abram departs his home, he gets discouraged and grows paranoid. Things aren’t happening as God described. His life may be in danger. His wife, Sarai, is not yet pregnant, and Abram treats her as expendable, offering her to Pharoah’s princes as a peace-offering of sorts.[3]
After they get out of that jam, one evening, God brings the discouraged Abram outside under the night sky. Scattered across the cosmos are thousands of stars. “Look up,” God says to Abram. “Count the stars if you can. This is how many children you will have!” And because some things are better seen in the dark, Abram’s trust in God is restored. God sees beyond his wobbly faith.[4] God sees past Abram’s ruthless doubts and impatience. That night, under the stars, God sees in Abram a reminder of the character that caused him to choose him in the first place. (Genesis 15:5-6) Sometimes the questions we ask in the dark lead to insight, clarity, which leads us to our next ancestor.
Nicodemus, a Pharisee and Leader among the Jews comes to Jesus at night. Frederick Buechner calls him “a VIP with a big theological reputation to uphold.” Perhaps this is why Nicodemus decided to wait until all of his neighbors were asleep to pay Jesus a visit.[5] Rev. Dr. Nicodemus begins the conversation with a statement based on evidence. “We know” he says, “you are a teacher who has come from God.” (3:2) By observation, logic, and deduction, Jesus has provided plenty of proof that God is on his side.[6] All this can be proven in the daylight. Nicodemus didn’t come merely to state the obvious. Jesus sees into his searching heart. Nicodemus is seeking, (but sometimes seeking doesn’t feel safe) looking for something more from the Teacher in the darkness. Jesus responds to what Nic thinks he knows with a statement to get the conversation moving: “Unless someone is born anew, it isn’t possible to see the Reign of God.”
And how is one supposed to pull that off, Nicodemus asks. How, indeed, would a man of his age get born again when it was a challenge to get out of bed in the morning. Could one “enter a second time into his mother’s womb?” I think not. Buechner imagines a gust of wind happened to whistle down the chimney about that time, “making the dying embers burst into flame, and Jesus said being born again was like that. It wasn’t something you did. The wind did it. The Spirit did it.” How can this be?! Jesus was just getting started. I’m telling you, God’s so in love with this world that God sent me here not to judge and condemn, but to save – every last bit of it. So, if you don’t believe with your own eyes, then maybe you’ll believe mine.[7] In Jesus’ eyes, Nicodemus saw himself in a whole new light. He caught a glimmer of the world that caused his breath to quicken, his heart to pound. Jesus continues, Buechner imagines, Maybe you won’t come sneaking around scared half to death in the dark anymore, but will come to, come clean, come to life!” Some things are better revealed in the dark – the way the wind enlivens dying embers, the way the stars populate the vastness, the blackness of the night sky.
How do you begin again? In the darkest times, God asks us to see glimmers of light, to trust in a Spirit that blows where it will. God tells us to believe in Love that is big enough to embrace the world; Love that will give itself for the whole world. Rebirth into God’s reign comes not by knowledge or doctrine, but by faith.[8] Beginning again is an act of faith and trust.
Whether you feel like Abram – impatient with the process. Waiting for God to show you something good. Remember the promise of the stars only visible against the darkest night sky. Whether you feel like Nicodemus - reserved, fearful, questioning, seeking… Loosen your grip on what’s provable and imagine what’s possible.
Do I believe in the possibility of new beginnings? I absolutely do! I look around this room and see proof – people with unbelievable stories of starting over… from the darkest dark endings… through the messy middle… to bravely beginning again. I look around this room and see a church that called a girl-preacher and believed we could begin again together – writing the next chapter of Weatherly Heights Baptist Church. Rebirth, born anew is something we are called to bravely live out every day.
Let us not be caught sleep-walking through our own story. Time to wake up like Nicodemus, step into the promise of what will be like Abram. Time to join with God in co-creating what’s next. You can call it the “Good Life,” or the covenant life, or the blessing. How will we begin again? Joining in the reign of God in the here-and-not-yet life.
[1] Hatmaker, Jen, Awake: a memoir, Avid Reader Press 2025
[2] ibid.
[3] Rothaus, Kendall Rae, Sojourners, Living the Word, Our Wobbly Faith, March 2026
[4] ibid.
[5] Buechner, Frederick, Peculiar Treasures, NIcodemus
[6] Jones, Judith, Working Preacher commentary John 3:1-17
[7] Buechner
[8] Jones, Judith, Working Preacher commentary John 3:1-17