Jn 3:1-8
1There was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. 2He came to Jesus at night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one can do these signs that you are doing unless God is with him.” 3Jesus answered and said to him, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” 4Nicodemus said to him, “How can a person once grown old be born again? Surely he cannot reenter his mother’s womb and be born again, can he?”
5Jesus answered, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. 6What is born of flesh is flesh and what is born of spirit is spirit. 7Do not be amazed that I told you, ‘You must be born from above.’ 8The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”
Born of the Flesh, Born of the Spirit: The figures in the Gospel of John are often representatives of groups and of their traits, and Nicodemus is a good example. When he comes to Jesus, he is alone, but his initial words suggest that he speaks for a group of people: “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher…” (Jn 3:2).
Nicodemus is first identified as “a man of the Pharisees,” the group of Torah-observant Jews. He is “a ruler of the Jews” which probably means that he is a member of the Sanhedrin, the highest Jewish court of the time. He is a representative of the Pharisees who hold on to the traditional view that one’s relationship with God is based on birth rights, i.e., on being an Israelite. But Jesus tells him that one must be born “from above,” that is, the relationship with God is primarily through birth in the Spirit.
At a deeper level, Nicodemus represents humanity whose origin is from physical birth. He, the teacher of Israel, stands alongside all other human beings who are born of the flesh and stand in need of rebirth by the power of God’s Spirit.
The image of darkness surrounding Nicodemus reinforces the universal dimensions of his character. He comes to Jesus at night and by the end of the narrative he falls silent and seemingly fades off into darkness. He did “come” to Jesus, which is characteristic of those who do what is true, and his incomprehension was “exposed” by Jesus, the light. But does this mean he “saw the light” or did he remain under darkness still? The narrative is fraught with ambiguity. God loves the world which Nicodemus represents, but the world’s response is left open. Will the world prefer to remain in darkness or go into the light?