"Sunday Sermon Manuscript, March 1st"

Riding the Headwind Upward

John 3:1–17

Beyond the Romance of The Little Prince to the Mission of Night Flight

1. When we think of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, we often recall the romantic star journeys and childlike innocence of The Little Prince. Though the novel certainly gains new depth as we age, the work that has given me deeper reflection and spiritual awe as a pastor is his other masterpiece, Night Flight.

2. This novel is rooted in the author’s own intense real-life experiences while working as an airmail pilot in Argentina.

3. Rather than merely celebrating the technical achievement of flight, it deals with the solitude and mission of those who risked their lives crossing the night sky in the early days of aviation, when technology was insufficient and weather conditions were harsh.

4. In pitch-black darkness, the pilots advance toward their destination relying solely on the vibration of the aircraft and the sound of the engine. What made a pilot’s heart beat more powerfully than the existential fear of death was the sense of duty—“This mail must be delivered at all costs.” That question of mission casts a weighty challenge upon us as believers living today.

5. We often think of God’s calling only as a mysterious blessing or glory, yet at times that calling demands from us painful sacrifice and lonely decisions.

6. When we hesitate, wondering whether we are truly ready to bear the weight of that calling, sometimes we even think it was too great a call, and at other times our zeal becomes excessive.

7. Of those who entered seminary together with me, I do not know where half of them are or what they are doing now. This means that not everyone who goes to seminary becomes a pastor; more than half eventually leave to pursue other paths.

8. I once had a senior who joked that he came to seminary thinking he was called, only to realize perhaps God had called the friend standing next to him and he had misunderstood. Though it was a joke, it felt quite serious.

The Maturity of Faith: From Relying on Friends to Relying on God

9. Looking back on my own spiritual journey, I too first knocked on the church door wanting to lean on someone. My initial reason for attending church was less an existential longing for God and more the sense of security and belonging that “friends” provided.

10. In high school, I moved from a very conservative Presbyterian church to a Methodist church where I had more friends. In truth, that decision was less a deep theological conviction and more the result of the environmental factor called “friends.”

11. Many believers, in the early stages of faith, depend on “people” or “environment” in this way. Yet as time passes and spiritual maturity grows, we move beyond reliance on “friends” and come face to face with the essence—God Himself.

12. To mature in faith means to move beyond seeking comfort within the church and instead to ask, “What can I devote to this community and to the kingdom of God?” John Wesley, who led the Methodist movement, emphasized that we are all walking a journey toward “Christian perfection.” This journey describes the transformation from a dependent faith to a responsible faith that responds to mission.

13. Are we still lingering in spiritual infancy, relying on people? Or are we rising into the sky of mission, standing alone before God? I pray this will be a time for serious reflection.

The Misunderstanding of “Again” and the Truth of “From Above”: The Limits of Nicodemus

14. In today’s passage, Jesus tells Nicodemus, “You must be born again.” The key Greek word used here is anōthen (ἄνωθεν).

15. This word carries two meanings simultaneously. One is the temporal sense, “again.” The other is the sense of origin, “from above.”

16. Nicodemus understood the word strictly in the earthly logic of “again.” Thus, when Jesus said, “Unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God,” he responded, “How can a man be born when he is old? Must he enter his mother’s womb a second time?”

17. Nicodemus’ misunderstanding resembles ours today. We often mistake faith as our effort to “redo” our lives by our own strength or to “repair” past habits. We think repentance or rebirth means starting over afresh on our own.

18. But the rebirth Jesus speaks of is not a biological restart or moral self-cultivation. It is the proclamation that we must be born as those who lift their gaze and long for the reign of God coming from above. It means that God embraces all the wounds, hardships, broken hearts, and unrestored spirits revealed in our lives, and restores them through grace descending from above so that they may be made whole again.

19. The reason we collapse before daily problems is that our will to “try again” has been broken. But the Lord invites us to become new beings who place our hearts not in our own will, but in the “power of heaven.”

Fear of Judgment: Breaking Free from the Bondage of Phobos (φόβος)

20. Recently, as a pastor, I have stood before a very sensitive existential question: “Am I withholding words I ought to proclaim because I am afraid of being judged by people?”

21. In Greek, the noun form of “to fear,” phobos (φόβος), refers to a state of shrinking back before something and avoiding the essence of the matter. When pastors or spiritual leaders become captive to the fear of “What will people think of me?” they choose to please human preference rather than proclaim God’s truth.

22. Nicodemus, too, was blocked by this phobos. Perhaps this is why he came to Jesus at night, when he would not be easily seen. He confessed before Jesus that He was a true teacher, stepping beyond the comfort provided by his religious background, status, and colleagues.

23. We must not see only Nicodemus’ weakness in coming secretly at night, but remember that within that situation was a courageous act—a bold step toward spiritual independence, abandoning a faith dependent on others and seeking one-on-one fellowship with God.

24. Likewise, we too desperately need a “night hour” when we cast off every outer shell and meet the Lord alone.

Verse 8 Exposition: The Wind (Pneuma) and the Mystery of Rebirth

25. To the bewildered Nicodemus, Jesus explains the principle of the Spirit: “The wind (pneuma) blows where it wishes. You hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes” (v. 8). The one who is born again does not attempt to analyze or confine the source of the wind but willingly raises his sails to follow the direction of the Spirit.

26. Our path is not determined by what is fixed and calculated, but by being carried along by the One who leads us.

27. By my calculations, I may think I should go west, but if the Spirit’s wind blows east, entrusting the helm of my life to that current—that freedom—is the reality of rebirth.

28. There will be suffering, wilderness seasons, and also the happiest and most pleasant moments. Though the emotions differ, remember that in each moment you are being carried by the wind of the Spirit.

29. Faith is not the effort to create the wind; it is the ability to sense the wind of God already blowing “from above.” To those on the ground, this wind may seem like unstable air currents, but to a pilot in the sky, it can be the force that lifts the aircraft higher.

30. They say that when an eagle encounters a storm, it does not flee but spreads its wings as wide as possible to meet the tempest head-on. Then it rides the wind to heights it could never reach by its own strength.

31. In the hymn we sing, “They shall mount up with wings like eagles,” this means that rather than shrinking back before an unknowable wind, we spread our wings even wider to rise higher. It echoes Isaiah 40, waiting upon the Lord and facing the wind like an eagle.

Conclusion: A Flight That Rises Above the Storm to Meet the Starlight

32. In Night Flight, the protagonist Fabien faces a life-and-death crisis. A massive storm threatens to swallow his aircraft, fuel is running low, and communication with the ground is cut off.

33. Chaos and the deafening threat of death surround him. At that moment, Fabien makes a remarkable decision. Instead of trying to avoid the storm, he lifts the nose of his plane upward to gain altitude.

34. When he breaks through the clouds, the storm below still rages violently, tearing at the world. Yet above, he encounters an unbelievably calm and peaceful starry night.

35. There he meets a sublime peace that transcends the turmoil of earth. This is the mystery of life “anōthen”—“from above”—that Jesus spoke of to Nicodemus.

36. Beloved congregation, may this Lenten season be a time to raise your spiritual altitude. Do not remain in the earthly logic of “the exhaustion of starting over again,” but set your hearts on the heavenly logic of “grace that comes from above.”

37. Do not be buried under earthly judgments and daily noise. Ride the wind of God blowing above them and soar to higher places. May the starlight-like truth Nicodemus encountered that night pierce your souls.

38. In the name of the Lord, I bless us all to break through the storm, abide in the peace that descends from above, and fly vigorously toward the perfection of Christ.