You Should Start Over
“Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” —John 3:3
We’ve all gotten really good at managing appearances.
We keep our questions polite, our struggles private, our doubts quiet. We show up where we’re supposed to be, say what we’re supposed to say, and hope no one sees the distance that’s growing between what we know about God and what we actually feel.
If that sounds familiar, you might have more in common with Nicodemus than you thought.
On Day 3 of VBS, our kids learned about a man who came to Jesus not in the middle of the day, but under the cover of night with a lot of questions.
He wasn’t a mess.
He wasn’t desperate.
He was respected. Religious. Well-read. Well-behaved.
And still—he was thirsty for something more.
Jesus didn’t scold him for his questions but He also didn’t give Nicodemus a small answer. He told him the truth: You need to start over. Not tweak, not improve, not adjust.
Start over. As in, be born again.
That’s a hard word when you’ve worked so hard to hold it all together.
Our kids may not carry the same pressure, but they know what it’s like to feel like they have to “get it right.” And so do we. But today’s truth cuts through all of that: God forgives me. Not the future, cleaned-up version of me. Me—as I am, right now.
They played “Zoomed-In Trivia”—trying to guess what each image was when it was too close to make sense. The connection was clear: sometimes we’re too zoomed in on our image, our performance, our control. We stop seeing the bigger picture.
Nicodemus came to Jesus with questions. And Jesus answered with an invitation—not to know more, but to begin again. That’s the invitation we’re extending to our kids this week, and honestly, it’s one we all need.
Because at some point, most of us stop thinking we need forgiveness. We just need to manage our reputation. Stay a little ahead of the shame. Keep things looking spiritual on the outside.
But Jesus sees through that and He doesn’t flinch.
We believe at Christ Methodist that discipleship isn’t about image—it’s about transformation. And transformation begins with surrender. With admitting what Nicodemus eventually did: “I don’t have this figured out.”
So here’s one way to take this home: Ask your child what they learned about Nicodemus. Then talk together about what it means to ask Jesus your real questions—not just the right ones.
And if you’ve been holding your faith together with polish and performance, you don’t have to anymore. Jesus doesn’t want your appearance. He wants your heart.
He already knows. And He still says, “Come.”