A New Birth
“And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!”- Tennyson, “Maud.”
Whatever one may think of Tennyson or his work, I love the lines above. Though “Maud,” is a strange and frankly sad tale, I enjoy it and the cry for a new man to arise within resonates with me, even if it’s for different reasons than Tennyson envisioned. Everyone has, at some point, been confronted with their own inadequacy or shortcomings and desired to be better than they presently are. Self-help has become a booming industry with its various players vying to help you be the best that you can be. Typically, the strategy proposed can fall into one of two broad schools, those being the, “You’re great just the way you are, with minor adjustments,” or the, “total makeover now,” schools. Different approaches appeal different people and I don’t want to browbeat anyone, but I also want to get right to the chase. Never mind more cynical criticisms for now, but neither school can ever truly fix a person. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure plenty of people of have found them helpful, but two flaws present themselves:
Both schools misdiagnose the problem and the minor adjustment school misjudges the depth.
Both schools fail to acknowledge what is needed.
A Nighttime Meeting
In John 3, Nicodemus meets Jesus at night and is presented with a startling truth: “You must be born again.” Puzzled, he asks, “How? Do I somehow enter the womb again?” There’s something humorous to that, but, of course, on some level, Nicodemus is being serious. After all, he sought Jesus out and acknowledges that he’s the real deal. We might think that what he says is silly, but Nicodemus wants to make sense of what has just been set in front of himself.
Here, we see Jesus present our most pressing need and the solution to that need. “Unless someone is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God,” implies both a need (or at least desire) to see the kingdom and what is needed to meet that need. But his language further into the chapter leads us to a deeper understanding. “Water and spirit,” bring us back to Ezekiel 36, where God promises many things, including, cleansing, a new heart, and a new spirit.
Promises With Implications
When we stop and read Ezekiel 36, what God promises should give us pause. His promise to clean Israel implies that they’re dirty. The promise of a new heart implies a defect (at best) with the old one, and the same is true of a new spirit. We see similar language in Paul. “But God, who is rich in mercy, because of his great love that he had for us, made us alive with Christ even though we were dead in trespasses. You are saved by grace!” (Eph 2:4, CSB) “And some of you used to be like this. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.” (1 Cor 6:11, CSB)
The dead are made alive. Those stained with various types of sin are cleansed. The most pressing need is met, decisively so.
New Life
When I think on new birth and being made new in general, I think of Romans 6: 4–5. “Therefore we were buried with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too may walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in the likeness of his death, we will certainly also be in the likeness of his resurrection.” My deadness was taken away, replaced with life given to me on the basis of Christ’s own life and work. I can know that in Christ, I am made new. When I remember Tennyson’s cry for a new man to arise, I can confidently think, “A new man has arisen from the grave of baptism, with a new life freely given out of the death of Christ.” My lack of poetic aptitude aside, I don’t have to ponder minor adjustments or seek out a new role model. Instead, I can rest, knowing that in Christ, I’m made new in a way that surpasses anything the world can offer.