By Stefan Sjöqvist, pastor at St Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Uppsala, Sweden. Article originally published in Biblicum Volume 87:4, 2023. Bible citations from EHV (wartburgproject.com). Translated by Julius Buelow.
What do we think of when we hear words like, “You must”; “It is necessary that you”; “you have to”; and “unless you”?
We probably all immediately have pictures in our heads, maybe of our mom saying, “You have to make your bed” or of a police officer saying, “You need to replace the bulbs for your turn signals” or a health program that says it is necessary for us to reduce our butter and cheese, sandwich and pizza intake if we want to lose weight. Or we think of bill from the electric company saying if we don’t pay the bill by the due date, we have to pay an extra late fee. In all of these examples, it is up to us to act—and we can do something, we have the ability to act, depending on our will and our resources.
Those same words can be a little confusing if we remove them from a context like that and put them in another context. In Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus in John 3:1-15, Jesus says, “Do not be surprised when I tell you that you must be born from above” (v 7). “Unless someone is born from above, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (v 3). “Unless someone is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God!” (v 5). Jesus emphasizes that unless we are “born from above” (or “born again”), we cannot enter the kingdom of God. The text also says that Jesus must be lifted up (v 14). But when we see these words “must” and “unless” does it mean that Jesus is standing and waiting for the person to whom he’s talking to act? Does it mean the person to whom he’s speaking has the resources to do so? Does it all depend on his will or his resources? When Jesus says that he must be lifted up on the cross, does it mean that at some point there was someone pointing at Jesus saying, “You must”?
No, “shall” and “must”, and many expressions that look like commands, are often simply explanations of how matters and things happen.
It does not automatically mean that a person is expected to act to fulfill the command, or even has the ability to do so. It does not mean that there is a decision making process with the person who heard it, like when a child thinks, “Should I really make my bed or not?”
If we say that, “this water shall freeze at 32 degrees”, or “it has to rain for things to grow,” or “it is necessary to breathe to receive oxygen,” or “unless the sun goes up, it is not morning,” these are not commands. These words don’t have anything to do with someone’s decision; they aren’t telling someone to use their will and resources to make these things happen. They are descriptions of reality.
John 3:1-15 tells how Nicodemus, who was a leader among the Pharisees, came to Jesus during the night. As a Pharisee, Nicodemus was indoctrinated with the idea that “shall” and “shall not”, “must” and “must not” meant that a person could, that a person had the resources to act on those commands. How can we say that with confidence? After all, we’re talking about a culture from 2000 years ago.
From ancient Jewish writings we can see that the Pharisees made it their life’s goal to fulfill the law which God gave to the prophet Moses. To fulfill this goal, they had set up special rules which delineated every action and decision one could make. They devoted their lives to this obedience, and that is why not just anyone could become a Pharisee. They themselves chose who could be a Pharisee. This was no mass movement; it was a group of religious elite which never consisted of more than 6000 men at a time, people who had promised to devote themselves to the ten commandments their whole life long.
Why would one devote oneself to such obedience of the law if one didn’t believe that he could fulfill the whole law? Pharisees believed they could obey the law. This belief came from their view of humanity. Pharisees believed that all people had good and bad inclinations within them, and that if a person chose what is right, of his own free will, he could climb up the steps toward the goal of perfect obedience to the law.
The idea was: It all depends on us, how we act—and we can really act this out. We have the capability. It all depends on our will and our resources.
This is the worldview Nicodemus had when he came to Jesus at night to have a conversation with him. He was not just a Pharisee, but also a member of the Jewish ruling council, that is, a member of the Jewish Sanhedrin, a government authority subject to the Romans but with a certain amount of self-determination in social, religious, and legal matters. “He 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 miraculous signs you are doing unless God is with him’” (v 2). We see that this government official and outwardly religious man greets Jesus with “Rabbi,” which means teacher, even though Jesus had no formal religious schooling. It was a good, polite introduction. Maybe he expected that Jesus, honored by the honorific, would answer in kind, with a corresponding honorific: “Honored, noble ruler” or something like that. But Jesus does not do that.
Nicodemus mentioned that no one could do miracles like the ones Jesus did, if God was not with him. So what should he think about Jesus? Maybe Nicodemus had seen that the Pharisees demands for obedience to the law had not resulted in improving humanity. Maybe he expected to receive an even greater law from Jesus, the crowning achievement for anyone who would obey the law. We don’t know what Nicodemus had in mind or what he wanted to ask. He is never given the opportunity to ask a question, and Jesus does not comment on Nicodemus’ opening words.
Jesus does not open up a religious or philosophical discussion; instead, he cuts right to the heart of Nicodemus with the sword of God’s Word: “Amen, Amen, I tell you: Unless someone is born from above, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (v 3).
With these words he cuts down the ladder of obedience to the law which Nicodemus thought he was climbing to get up into the kingdom of God. The Scriptures saw that people are by nature dead in transgressions and sins (Eph 2:1). “An unspiritual person does not accept the truths taught by God’s Spirit, because they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them, because they are all spiritually evaluated” (1 Cor 2:14). People cannot see the kingdom of God because of their inherent ability, what they are able to do are what they actually do. God’s kingdom is only seen by those who are born again, or, as the Greek could also be understood, born from above, that is, from God. It is God who does it all.
It is true that God’s law says “you shall” and “you shall not.” The law even says “the one who does these things will live by them” (Gal 3:12). Jesus says, “If you want to enter life, keep the commandments” (Matt 19:17).
Let us return to what we said in the beginning: Many expressions that seem like commands are actually descriptions of reality, how matters and things happen. It does not automatically mean that someone is expected to act in response to it, or even can.
People must obey the law—and if they really did keep the law perfectly, they would be righteous. But the Scriptures teach that it is impossible to obey the law perfectly: “There is surely not a righteous man on earth who does good and does not sin” (Eccl 7:20). “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us” (1 John 1:8).
It is not unreasonable for God to expect obedience to the law from us, even though we are unable to carry out that obedience. We are the ones, not God, who through Adam’s sin in Eden, destroyed our ability to be obedient to the law. When we see what God expects of us, we see that it is impossible for us to save ourselves. It is God who does it, when he gives us new birth from above. It is God who restored us, when Christ Jesus, God’s Son, died in our place, took the punishment for our sins and fulfilled all the demands of the law perfectly in our place as our substitute.