The Legacy of Jesus Christ
“Now there was a certain man among the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler (member of the Sanhedrin) among the Jews, who came to Jesus at night and said to Him, “Rabbi (Teacher), we know [without any doubt] that You have come from God as a teacher; for no one can do these signs [these wonders, these attesting miracles] that You do unless God is with him.” Jesus answered him, “I assure you and most solemnly say to you, unless a person is born again [reborn from above—spiritually transformed, renewed, sanctified], he cannot [ever] see and experience the kingdom of God.”” (John 3:1-3, AMP)
During my time in college, I joined a sorority. It was a good way to make friends, stay busy, and make the most of my time in university. I ended up pledging a sorority called Delta Phi Epsilon, and mainly because my friend was already a sister and encouraged me to rush.
It felt like a long process– meeting the sisters, finding a connection with them, going through rounds of meet and greets– all leading up to receiving my bid and joining the sisterhood. After a semester, I got to see the process from the inside: the long hours of discussing every girl that walked through the doors to meet us. And after each conversation, we decided as a group whether we wanted to see that girl again. Each round of meet and greets led up to that ultimate moment where you choose the girls you invite into the sorority.
It seems like it would be easy, but it’s not. On one end, you’re weighing the character of the girls you might welcome into your sisterhood. On the other, you know that some will have their feelings hurt because you can’t invite them all. Inevitably, however, you will have a girl that walks through the door and claims the title of a Legacy, meaning she’s the daughter of a sister somewhere in the organization across all universities.
But while that title of Legacy carries weight, it’s not the end all be all when it comes to getting a bid and becoming a full-fledged sister. At one time or another it probably has meant an automatic in, but most times, maybe that title will carry her through a few deliberations, but it doesn’t always equal becoming a sister in her own right. But a lot of the time, the term Legacy is used like an all-access pass by the girl trying to get into the sisterhood, when it may not be the sure-thing she thinks it is.
When Jesus sat down with Nicodemus in John 3, He made a radical statement for the time. Nicodemus was a member of the Sanhedrin, a ruling council in Hebrew society. All were considered elite and educated men within their social structure, so Nicodemus wouldn’t have only been well-versed in Jewish customs, but he would have been highly respected by his community. The Sanhedrin were the final authority when it came to interpreting Jewish law.
In that day, the widely accepted view in Judaism was that Jews were assured a place in heaven by simple birthright. They believed that as children of Abraham, God would welcome them into eternal life because of that legacy. Their original birth into the bloodline and the Jewish faith was a 100% surety of getting into heaven.
So when Jesus tells Nicodemus– most solemnly– that that might not be the case, He essentially drops a bomb on the Pharisee. That would have been a radical departure from Jewish law of the time.
Instead, Jesus says that we must be born again. Not washed. Not reformed. Born again.
And that choice of words is very deliberate. If Jesus said we could be washed, it would denote that we could do it ourselves. We would get the idea that there is something on our part that we could do to be saved and to see heaven for ourselves. It would be entirely in our own power to simply be washed clean.
If Jesus said we could be reformed, it would give us some sort of sense that we had it right at one point, but just needed to get back on track. It would give us a false sense of control and self-righteousness.
No, Jesus said we must be born again. We must be regenerated. Our first birth is that of the flesh, but our second birth was to be entirely about the spirit within us. It was to be something we could never control, manage, or set in motion ourselves. It is something completely reliant on God.
As a woman who has given birth twice now, and both of my kids came overdue, I can speak from experience that I had no control over when those babies would be born. Only God did, and only God made it possible. Otherwise, I am certain that my kids might both still be in the womb with no expectation of coming out.
Our second birth– the rebirth of our very spirit regenerated by the Spirit of God– is wholly a work of God Himself. There is nothing that I could do to save my soul. There is no part that I can play in God’s renewing and sanctifying of my spirit than to say, “Yes, Lord. Here I am. Do what you must.”
There is nothing in my bloodline that marks me for salvation, besides the mark that the Lord placed on me. I am nothing but the roughly hewn threshold in Egypt, marked with the blood of the Lamb of God. I am simply the child in the womb until God decides to set His sovereign will into motion for me to be spiritually born again, into a world I will have to relearn with my transformed eyes.
My humanity and my bloodline holds no legacy. My parents didn’t extend their faith to me– as some denominations of Christianity believe– until my faith could be realized and confirmed within my heart. There is no legacy beyond the legacy I receive the moment I become a child of God, and no one will see or experience heaven without that salvific spiritual rebirth.
There are no “legacies” from man to man when it comes to the Kingdom of Heaven. There is only the legacy of Christ, who died on the cross, rose from the grave, and who is drawing His people to Himself. There is only God the Father, who sanctifies His people, gives them new life, and empowers them to transform their minds to walk by faith.
