What Nicodemus Can Teach Dads
John 3:1-15
💥 THE BRIEFING
I got saved when I was 8 years old in a Baptist church in North Georgia. Terrified at the idea of spending eternity swimming laps in a lake of fire. I mean, I barely knew how to swim, and eternity seemed like a long time. I raised my hand, said the prayer, meant every word of it. I even said it twice to make sure Jesus heard me.
But life has a way of complicating things that seemed simple when you were a kid.
Middle school hit and our private Christian school shut down because a leader had been stealing funds. The church that was supposed to support us? They didn't come to our rescue. I didn't walk away from faith, but something shifted. My heart wasn't as diligent toward God. I was going through the motions, but the fire wasn't the same. Ironic, right?
Decades go by and I'm going through the motions. Finally, Taylor's cancer journey happened, and I'll be honest, I was straight up pissed at God. I remember being stoic in the moment, assuring Taylor everything was fine, I was fine, and yet I was crying in the shower with this burning anger at God at the idea that I might lose my best friend. That's a story I need to unpack all on its own, but the point is: here I am, a 30-year-old dad who got saved at 8, who's been through church hurt, who's wrestled with God through the hardest season of our lives.
And I'm supposed to lead my family spiritually?
This is the first time I've been a 30-year-old dad. In January it'll be the first time I'm a 31-year-old dad, so on and so forth. This is the first time, with my particular history, this specific baggage, these questions I thought I'd have figured out by now.
That's what was going through my head as I found myself studying John 3.
This guy (Nicodemus) wasn't some villain or skeptic. He was someone who had been in the spiritual community his whole life. He was a respected leader, a teacher, someone people looked up to for answers. But he shows up to Jesus at night, and you can almost feel the uncertainty in his voice: "Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God..."
He's trying to sound confident, but he's coming in the dark because he doesn't want anyone to see him asking questions he thinks he should already know the answers to. Questions about whether what he's been doing his whole life actually means anything.
Jesus cuts right through the small talk: "Unless someone is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God."
And Nicodemus responds with confusion and maybe some defensiveness: "How can this be? Are you telling me my years of religious education, my position as a teacher, none of that counts? I need to start completely over?" Just a few verses before he addresses Jesus as Rabbi even though Jesus had no formal rabbinic training, and now he's asking questions that reveal how much he doesn't understand.
Jesus isn't giving him a to-do list or a five-step process. He's explaining that seeing and entering God's kingdom requires something that only the Spirit can do. "The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."
Here's what hit me: The faith I had as a kid was real, but I need to live it out differently as the dad I am today.
I don't need to be born again, again, that happened when I was 8. But I do need the same Spirit who gave me new birth to breathe fresh life into who I already am in Christ. I need to return to the new life that was already given to me, not as the scared 8-year-old I was, but as the 30-year-old dad I am today, with all my questions, baggage, and complicated history with God.
🎙️ THE CORNER TALK
"Jesus answered, 'Truly I tell you, unless someone is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. Whatever is born of the flesh is flesh, and whatever is born of the Spirit is spirit.'" — John 3:5-6 (CSB)
Nicodemus was a Pharisee and a member of the Sanhedrin. Think of it like being both a seminary professor and a Supreme Court justice for Jewish religious law. He'd spent his whole life studying Scripture, teaching others, making decisions about spiritual matters. This guy should know his stuff.
But here's what I keep coming back to: Nicodemus had decades of experience, years of study, a position of authority, and he still didn't understand what Jesus was talking about.
When Jesus tells him "unless someone is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God," it's challenging everything Nicodemus thought he knew. All his own constructed “systematic theology,” all his careful study, all his religious credentials. None of it prepared him for this conversation.
Jesus uses the Greek word anothen, which can mean either "again" or "from above." Nicodemus clearly hears "again" and gets stuck on the logistics. But Jesus is talking about something that comes "from above." From God's initiative, not human effort.
Verse 8: "The wind blows where it pleases, and you hear its sound, but you don't know where it comes from or where it's going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."
You can't control the wind. You can't schedule it or manufacture it. But when it shows up, you know it. Things move. That's spiritual birth: God's work, God's timing, God's power.
Verse 10: "Are you the teacher of Israel and don't know these things?" Jesus isn't being rude, but he is being honest. This expert didn't understand the basics of how someone actually enters God's kingdom.
And that's where we find ourselves. We're supposed to be the spiritual leaders of our homes, but we're realizing that all our years as Christians don't automatically qualify us to lead our families well. Our resume means nothing in this case. All those CIO and corporate meetings I’ve lead, complex strategies I’ve developed for client issues, don’t offer much assistance to bedtime routines or tantrums in the middle of Target.
Just like Nicodemus, we've got experience and knowledge, but we're discovering we need God's help in ways we never expected because this is the first time we’ve ever done this.
The same Spirit that gives new birth? That's the Spirit we need to depend on as dads. Not our past experience, not our religious background. We need God to move in our lives right now, in this moment, with these kids, in ways we can't control or schedule.
🥊 THE FIGHT PLAN
This week's drill:
Practice "Nicodemus honesty."
When it's just you and your thoughts, stop pretending you have it all together. Ask God:
"Where am I trying to be the expert instead of the student?"
This counters the toxic dad-temptation to fake maturity. Your kids don't need you to have a PhD in everything. They need to see you depending on the same God you're pointing them toward.
🤝 THE HUDDLE
Here's what Nicodemus teaches every dad:
You can check all the religious boxes and still miss the heart of it all.
Church attendance? ✓ Family devotions? ✓ Bible knowledge? ✓ Christian reputation? ✓ Real life change and dependence on God?…
The most dangerous place for a dad is thinking his spiritual résumé equals spiritual reality.
But here's the hope: You're never too far gone for God to start over.
Jesus didn't shame Nicodemus for not getting it (kinda). He explained it. And spoiler alert, Nicodemus shows up later in the story with courage, honor, and genuine faith (John 7:50, 19:39). The midnight seeker became a daylight follower.
So if you're reading this and feeling like you've been going through the motions... If you're leading your family from an empty spiritual tank... If you're more comfortable talking about God than talking to God...
You don't need more religious activity. You need the wind of the Spirit to blow through your life and make you new.
In your corner,
Chance