“Jesus and Old Nic” — from John 3:1–21
When I read John 3, I don’t picture something ancient or distant. I picture Jesus and Nicodemus talking like two men sitting on a porch late at night — one trying to understand, the other trying to break through the fog.
And honestly, I can almost hear Jesus saying,“Nic… come on, man. I’ve explained this three times already.”Not in anger — but in that patient, loving frustration you have when someone is so close to getting it.
Nicodemus wasn’t dumb. He was just stuck in the only world he knew.And Jesus was trying to pull him into a new one.
That’s how Scripture feels to me.Not dusty.Not ancient.Not far away.
I imagine John writing his Gospel the same way any of us would write to our friends today — not thinking about how people 2,000 years later would analyze every word, but simply trying to capture what he saw, what he felt, and what changed his life forever.
He wasn’t chasing fame.He wasn’t trying to become a legend.He wasn’t thinking, “One day they’ll read this in Gainesville.”He was just telling the truth about the One who saved him.
And that’s how I feel when I write.
Not that I’m writing new Scripture — the Gospel is complete in Christ.But I feel that same pull to tell the story, to point people back to Jesus, to speak about what He’s done and what He’s still doing.
It wasn’t a respected job back then either.They killed almost every one of those men for it.So clearly, they weren’t writing for applause. They wrote because Jesus came to save us from sin, and that’s a reason worth writing about.
So if you’ve ever felt like the people in the Gospels who asked,“Can anything good come from Nazareth?”or“Is this really how God works?”
You’re in good company.
Nicodemus didn’t get it at first.Most people didn’t.But Jesus kept speaking anyway.
And so do we.