Today we’re looking at a curious contrast in John 2:23–3:12. On one hand, we see crowds chasing after Jesus because of the signs He’s performing. On the other, we see Nicodemus—one man whose heart is stirred by those same signs, but whose story unfolds very differently.
When the Scripture says, “many believed in His name because they saw the signs that He was doing,” it sounds wonderful. Who wouldn’t want that kind of faith? But verse 24 goes on: “Jesus on His part did not entrust Himself to them, because He knew all people.” He knew they were following Him for the miracles, not for the message of new life in Him. Their faith was skin-deep—earning points, not opening hearts.
Then comes Nicodemus. He sneaks to Jesus by night, curious and cautious, yet earnest. He acknowledges, “We know that You are a teacher come from God; for no one can do these signs that You do unless God is with him.” He sees God in the miracles. But Jesus doesn’t dismiss him outright. Instead, He engages: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
Why the different treatment? Why reject the crowd but receive Nicodemus? Because Nicodemus saw more than the surface. He saw God at work and came seeking truth, not merely spectacle. He wasn’t chasing showy wonders; he craved transformation.
There’s a lesson here for us. We live in a world of flashy signs—dramatic healings, viral testimonies, quick fixes. And let’s be honest: it’s tempting to chase after those experiences. But God wants more than our attention; He wants our hearts. He wants us to recognize every sign in our lives as an invitation to be born anew.
Every heartbeat is a miracle. Every sunrise, a gift. Every friendship that lifts our spirits, every tear wiped away in kindness, every whisper of peace in a restless mind—these are signs of God’s presence. Do we merely admire them, or do we let them draw us into deeper dependence?
Nicodemus saw the miracles and said, “Surely, God is with this Man.” But Jesus challenged him: seeing isn’t believing; being transformed is. Nicodemus needed more than a demonstration; he needed rebirth.
So how do we respond? First, let’s slow down and notice the small wonders around us. The warm cup of coffee on a chilly morning—more than caffeine, it’s a reminder of God’s care. The friend who checks in when life is hard—more than concern, a reflection of Christ’s compassion. The strength to endure another day—no small feat, but a sign that the Spirit sustains us.
Second, let’s invite Jesus into those moments. Not just as the Provider of blessings, but as the Lord of our hearts. We can thank Him for the miracle, but let’s also ask Him to open our eyes to the kingdom He came to bring.
Finally, let’s be open to being born again daily. Nicodemus didn’t grasp everything at first—he stumbled over “born again”—but he stayed in dialogue with Jesus. Likewise, let’s bring our questions, our doubts, our longings to Him, trusting He guides us deeper into His life.
Miracles are all around us—and they point to the greatest miracle of all: a new birth in Christ. May we not settle for superficial faith, chasing only the awe of signs. Instead, may we see God in every moment and let those signs lead us into a transformed life, filled with His Spirit and anchored in His love.
