You Must Be Born Again, Part 1

This week and next we’re essentially doing a 2 part sub-series within the book of John as we look at the end of John 2 and the beginning of John 3. Both of these have to go together. Macie can’t have a cookie without a glass of milk, and we can’t understand Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus about how we’re saved in John 3 without understanding why we need to be saved at the end of John 2.

I remember discipling a guy while I was a pastor in New Orleans. If you’re not familiar with that term, discipling essentially means teaching, or mentoring. I gave him a book to read that was all about how the gospel of Jesus applies to our lives. We were going to read a chapter at a time, and then discuss it each week.

The first chapter was on sin, and how we fall short of an all-righteous God. The next chapter was on God’s love in sending Jesus in response to our sin… But we were only reading a chapter at a time, so he hadn’t gotten to chapter two. When we grabbed coffee after that first week, I asked him what he thought about what he read, and he said it was awful. He felt bad about himself the whole week because he only read about all the ways he rebels against God in his thoughts, feelings, and actions. He had only focused on his need, and hadn’t spent any time reflecting on God’s provision.

That was my bad. Because you can’t have one without the other and the gospel still be good news. If you have need, but no provision, then you’re hopeless. If you have God’s provision, but no need, then it’s redundant. Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection in our place and on our behalf is crystal clear about how we fall short of God’s glory but it’s also crystal clear on how Christ has lovingly fulfilled what was lacking. He has done what we needed, and he has done what we could not. That’s the gospel, and we need all of it.

And yet, whether you agree with the Bible on them or not, the idea of our need and God’s provision are two massive theological topics that fundamentally shape the way we think about ourselves, the way we relate to God, and the posture we take as we live in the world. So, we’re going to break down one of the most significant sections in the entire book of John into two parts, covering them both this week and next week.

Don’t worry, though. I’m not going to leave you like my friend with only focusing on sin one week and only focusing on Jesus the next. But it does mean, even if you’re not able to be here next Sunday, that I would encourage you to listen or watch the sermon later. At a minimum, continue to study the next part of John in chapter 3 for yourself because these things all have to go together.

Jesus’ conversation with the Pharisee named Nicodemus in chapter three culminates with the most famous verse in the entire Bible: John 3:16: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” But the bulk of their conversation leading up to that verse is centered on Jesus saying that you must be “born again” in order to see the kingdom of God.

If that’s familiar to you, it’s because we saw very similar language back in chapter 1. In John 1:12, John describes what it means to be a Christian—to see the kingdom of God. He says, “But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” Then, in the very next verse, he tells us what happens as people are given the right to become children of God. He describes them saying, “[those] who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.”

So, back in chapter 1, John tells us that people become children of God by being born again by God. They believe in his name, and they are forgiven and redeemed. Then, in verse 3 of chapter 3, Jesus says something similar: “unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Okay, so there’s a connection here. And if Jesus is telling Nicodemus he must be born again, then just like John 1:12-13, we can expect the invitation to believe in his name is somewhere nearby. And, like we already mentioned, John 3:16 is right around the corner: “whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

It would seem like Jesus is drawing out in conversation with Nicodemus in John 3 what John had already summarized for us back in John 1. So then why do I say this section focuses both on our need as well as God’s provision? Where’s our need emphasized? For that’s, let’s look at verses 23-25 in John chapter 2.

John 2:23–25 ESV

²³ Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed in his name when they saw the signs that he was doing. ²⁴ But Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people ²⁵ and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.

Right before this, Jesus had just driven the merchants and money changers out of the temple and made a statement about the priority of worshiping God. According to verse 23, Jesus also performed miracles, or signs, while he was in Jerusalem for that same Passover Feast as well. And like we see whenever Jesus did miracles throughout his ministry, people believed in him as a result. I can’t really blame them. Seeing a miracle is kind of a big deal.

But then, verses 24 and 25 give us an unsettling response from Jesus. Starting in verse 24, it says “But Jesus on his part did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.” So, Jesus performed miracles, and people believed in his name, but Jesus did not give himself to them.

This is why our need for the new birth that Jesus is going to talk to Nicodemus about next week in John 3 is so great—because there is a natural problem with both our belief and our heart. Let’s look at our belief first. These verses show us there’s a type of belief in Jesus that is not accepted by Jesus. Or, we could make that more personal: you might sincerely believe in Jesus and not truly know him or be saved by him.

You might have grown up going to church, you might read your Bible regularly, you might have named your pet after an Old Testament King or even have a tattoo of Scripture in Greek or Hebrew—but there is a type of belief in Jesus that is not saving faith. You can see the works he does and believe he is who he says he is, and yet still not be united with him.

Think about it. James 2:19 says demons have the same kind of belief—they fully know who Jesus is—and yet they aren’t with God. So, why does Jesus reject the belief of the crowd in our passage this morning, and what’s the kind of belief that does lead to saving faith? Well, let’s start with verse 23. What was the cause of the peoples’ belief in Jesus? In the second half of the verse it says, “many believed in his name when they saw the signs he was doing.” So, Jesus performed signs, or miracles, and they believed in him as a result.

If you were here two weeks ago when we looked at the previous section in verses 18-22, the Jews approached Jesus after he drives the merchants out of the temple and they ask for a sign. They don’t rebuke him for causing a scene; they ask for proof that he has the authority to do so. In verse 19, Jesus responds by pointing to the ultimate sign of his authority. He says, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up”, talking about his own death and resurrection.

But how do they respond? They hear about the sign, but they misunderstand about the person. They confuse Jesus, the true temple and dwelling place of God, with the literal temple they were standing in. In verse 20, they say, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and will you raise it up in three days?” You see, the sign catches their attention, but they don’t understand it in a way that properly teaches them why they need the person who provides it.

And that’s the same thing we see play out with the people in verses 23-25. They see Jesus perform the miracles, and they believe in the one who does these miracles. But they don’t understand the point of the miracles. They miss that the point of a sign is to point to their need for the person who can do the sign.

Right now, the low tire pressure light is on in Macie’s car. Do you know why? Because at least one of her tires is low on air!

When I see that warning light pop up, I can respond in a few different ways. I can be skeptical that it’s true—”Eh, it comes on all the time, and the car seems to drive fine. It’s probably just a little sensitive.” I could also believe it’s true but not a big deal—”Eh, the tires don’t look that bad. Maybe they’re a little low, but that’s not really something I need to worry about. I’ll check on them again after a while.” Or, I could see the sign, and do something about it. Like, put air in the tires, so you don’t get a flat.

We respond in one of the same ways when something in our life causes us to think about God. We might be skeptical, we might be apathetic, or we might be moved to action. And just like our thoughts on our tire shape whether we feel a sense of urgency to fix it, our response to the idea of God isn’t shaped first by what we think about God; it’s shaped first by what we think about ourselves.

If we don’t think we have a problem, then we’ll be skeptical of anyone offering a solution. If we think we can fix our own problems, then we’re going to be apathetic and slow to surrender our problems over to someone else and ask for help. But if we feel like we have an impossible problem—an eternal problem that we cannot solve ourselves—than we’ll look for an answer that’s bigger than us—bigger than what we can fully understand.

Your sense of need determines how you look to God for provision. And this is where the people in verses 23-25 misunderstand the point of Jesus’ miracles. He wasn’t just doing something great. He was making wrong things right. Saving the wedding feast, restoring sight to the blind, healing a paralyzed man. These aren’t just miracles; they’re restoration. They’re fixing how sin has broken various elements in us and in the world around us.

Which means that the point of the miracles wasn’t primarily to give the people things they want; it was to demonstrate that Jesus is the answer to the help they need. The people witnessing Jesus’ miracles at the end of chapter 2 believed that Jesus had the power of God, but they didn’t believe he was their only hope to be made right with God. They were amazed by him, but they weren’t committed to him.

If you’re not a Christian, and you find the study of Scripture and the discussion of theology as more interesting than personal right now, then that might be because you haven’t explored much of your own need for what’s being offered in Jesus.

Or if you feel like you’ve been a Christian for a lot of your life, but you’ve always struggled with finding motivation to grow in your faith or plug in consistently with a church, then you might not be seeing much urgency in your ongoing need for Jesus—not just as the one who saves you, but as the one who sustains you and changes you.

If you want to know what kind of belief you have in Jesus, then a great place to start is by looking at how you’ve acted on that belief. Are you skeptical the tire needs air, are you hoping you can fix it yourself, or are you resting in the one who can make wrong things right?

As we turn from the peoples’ belief in verse 23 to Jesus’ response in verses 24 and 25, we see that wrong belief is ultimately just a symptom. The deeper issue is a problem with our heart. And here we have both good news and bad news. The good news is: Jesus knows our hearts. The end of verse 24 says he knows “all people.” And that’s a glorious thing.

I’ve been a pastor in two other churches: one in New Orleans and one that I started in New York City. And in both of those ministries, I struggled with something that many pastors struggle with. I felt like I knew the people I pastored well—I knew their passions, I knew their fears, I knew their successes and failures. But it was hard at times to feel like I was known.

I think much of that was on me, wrongly believing that I needed to be this spiritual role model and have myself put together, which at the end of the day meant I wasn’t believing the gospel well; I was focused on how my performance would be perceived by others instead of resting in the performance of Christ on my behalf and being vulnerable with others.

At the same time, it can also be easy for people in a church to not put much effort into getting to know a pastor. I’m so thankful that the way God went about leading us to start this church meant that I got to plant it with my best friends that I already had deep relationships with. I feel known here. I feel like a part of this church and not just a leader in this church, and I’m thankful to each of you for that.

It’s a sweet thing to be known and loved, and the Bible tells us over and over again that God both knows and loves us. But really, we don’t have to look any further than right here in John chapters 2 and 3. In verses 24 and 25, we get the statement that Jesus knows all people. He knows our very hearts. And then in the next chapter, John 3:16 starts off saying, “For God so loved the world.” Being fully known can be a scary thing. But being fully known and fully loved is a beautiful thing.

God knows you. Psalm 139 says he knit you together in your mother’s womb. Luke 12 says he knows the number of hairs on your head. And despite the things you know about yourself that you’re afraid would disqualify you from the love of God, John 3:16 says those very things that God already knows about you are actually what qualifies you to be the recipient of his sacrificial love through Jesus Christ. What he knows about you and the depth of how he loves you is why he sent his Son. That’s good news.

But verses 24 and 25 also give us bad news. Because it’s the very things that Jesus knows about the hearts of the people that lead him to not accept the belief of the people. Clearly, there’s an issue with what’s within us. And not just the people who saw the signs in Jerusalem. Verse 24 says, “all people.” So, what’s our problem? What’s our real need?

We could turn several places in the Bible, and I want to end our time this morning providing a brief theological survey here because I think understanding what Scripture says about our need is so crucial for understanding why Jesus came and what it actually means to believe in him.

Romans 3:23 gives us a starting point. It says, “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” As much as we don’t like talking about the topic of sin in our culture, this verse is probably not hard for us all to get on board with. If there is a God who created everything and defines what’s holy and right by his perfect character—which is what the Bible teaches—if that God exists, then it’s not a stretch for me to say that I don’t perfectly live up to who he is. I fall short.

I don’t value him like I should. Instead, I often try to replace him with other things that I want more, doing things my own way. That’s a simple definition for what sin is. It’s our rebellion, whether conscious or subconscious, against God’s character and his rule in our lives. So, we all sin, and we all fall short of the glory of God. But the Bible goes further. If we back up just a few verses in Romans 3 to verses 10-12, the Apostle Paul quotes the Psalms when he says:

Romans 3:10–12 ESV

¹⁰ as it is written:

“None is righteous, no, not one;

¹¹ no one understands;

no one seeks for God.

¹² All have turned aside; together they have become worthless;

no one does good,

not even one.”

This levels the playing field and exposes a fundamental symptom of our problem. First, he says “none is righteous.” While that might sound off-putting, it should probably also come off as freeing. Because, no matter what you’ve done, you are not more or less naturally righteous than the person sitting next to you, the person in your past that’s hurt you, or anyone else in the world. That’s because our standard of righteousness is not comparing ourselves to each other; it’s God. And like we’ve already seen: we all fall short.

But this also exposes a major problem. Two of the symptoms of falling short of God’s righteousness in these verses are that we don’t naturally understand God, and we don’t naturally seek God. 1 Corinthians 2:14 backs this up. It says,

1 Corinthians 2:14 ESV

¹⁴ The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned.

But you might say, “People seek God and study the Bible for themselves all the time.” And that’s why the world “naturally” matters here. We might seek God in the way the crowds did in John 2:23-25, wanting him for what he can do, but not submitting to him for who he is. And like we’ve already seen, that kind of belief doesn’t lead to saving faith. Seeing and savoring Jesus as Savior and Lord is an unnatural desire for us because our hearts are naturally turned against him from of our sinful nature.

I grew up here on the Northshore, so all my favorite sports teams are Louisiana teams. Naturally, that means I’m pretty petty as a fan—we do that well here—and, even more importantly, I am utterly against all things Atlanta. The Saints haven’t won in a long time, but as long as the Falcons have a bad year, I can say it’s a good season. I actually got to go to see the Saints win their Super Bowl in 2009, but when the Falcons choked to the Patriots in their Super Bowl—that might have been an even more fun victory.

I know we’ve got a die hard Falcons fan in our church. And Steve can wear his hat and try to convince me that they’re a team worth rooting for, but it’s not going to work. He could make a logical case for why they’re a good team, but I won’t listen to it. He could make an emotional case for how the Falcons give him so much joy, but I can’t feel it.

I can see the team. I can watch them play. But my nature is fundamentally oriented against them, so I won’t see them clearly, and I won’t genuinely desire to join them.

Once again, the Apostle Paul provides us with clarity here. In Romans 8:7-8, he says: “For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God’s law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”

Every created thing operates in line with its nature. A rock cannot do fish things. It cannot swim. It’s a rock. Swimming isn’t in it’s nature. A human cannot fly on his own like a bird. He could try, but it’s not going to go well. It’s not in his nature. God cannot sin. He cannot do “non-God things”. It’s not in his nature.

And we cannot, on our own, do righteous things. We might do good things because we’re made in the image of our good God, and any person is able to do something good for another person. There’s so much good in the world. But what makes an act righteous is when it rightly points to the God who makes it good. That’s why Paul says in Romans 14:23 that anything which doesn’t proceed from our faith in God is sin.

Think about it. A king could want to serve his kingdom by providing them with the greatest army to protect them. He spares no expense buying the best armor, training the strongest soldiers, and equipping them with the greatest weaponry. But if that army decides to rebel—if they decide to use all their equipment and all their training for their own purposes—if they use it not to serve the king but to overthrow the king—then even those good gifts become evil.

From all the way back in the Garden of Eden, when we chose to use the gifts and the life God has given us for our own purposes rather than to glorify our king, we separated ourselves from him and naturally predisposed ourselves against him. Even our good deeds can be viewed as what Isaiah calls “filthy rags” when they’re not rooted in our faith in the God who created us to do them. We are more sinful than we realize.

And because of our sinful nature, we can’t properly believe in God. We won’t genuinely follow Christ. And that’s because our sin doesn’t just leave us separated from God—it’s made us spiritually dead. One more passage from Paul, and then we’ll close. In Ephesians 2:1, Paul describes us as being “dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked.” We are all born spiritually dead.

That’s our ultimate problem. Because dead things can’t do anything good for themselves. Dead things don’t have hope in themselves. Dead things can’t believe in something on their own. The theological term for this is “total depravity.” Our sin against God has left us spiritually dead and separated from God, unable to properly believe and follow God.

And yet, I said I wasn’t going to leave us this morning like I did my friend who only read the first chapter of the book. Yes, the Bible says we were dead in the trespasses and sins in which we once walked. But that’s not the end of the story. Paul continues in Ephesians 2:4-9:

Ephesians 2:4–9 ESV

⁴ But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, ⁵ even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— ⁶ and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not a result of works, so that no one may boast.

Something dead has no hope. It can’t do anything good for itself. But the good news of the gospel is that, while we were spiritually dead, Jesus came to die for us, paying the penalty of the sin that has overcome us, so that our death can no longer hold us, because his resurrection can bring new life to us.

In John 2:25, John acknowledges that Jesus knows the condition of our hearts. He knows why we won’t truly believe and follow him, and he knows what we need. We need a miracle. We need new birth. And that’s exactly what we’re going to be looking at in Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus in John 3 next week. Nicodemus perfectly represents the wrong kind of belief that’s called out at the end of chapter 2. He sees the signs, he knows Jesus has come from God, and yet, he doesn’t understand what has to happen in order to be restored in a right relationship with him.

Jesus tells him, “You must be born again.” Not by your own effort, not because of your background, but like we saw all the way back in John 1:13; we must be born of God. It’s his work, and it’s available to you. Yes, our need is deeper than we could ever understand, but God’s provision through Christ is greater than we could ever imagine. He invites you to turn from your sin and rebellion against his rule in your life, and to trust in the finished work of Jesus in your place to give you a new life.

Let’s pray.