“You must be born of wind and water...” is essentially what Jesus said to Nicodemus in the third chapter of John. To which Nicodemus responded “Huh?!?” Okay this might be a bit of a translation. But you get the point. As is the case with most people when it comes to these obtuse sayings in John, Nicodemus didn’t understand what he was being told. How can one be born of both wind and water? The water part makes sense — the human body is made up mostly of water. But wind? The wind doesn’t deliver us into our parent's arms any more than a stork does. These words make no sense. They are paradoxical. Ah, yes, paradox. How often in our faith tradition are we brought right to the water's edge of paradox; are we caught up in the wind of mystery; are we surrounded by the swirling vastness of the Spirit.

Outside of being born, I’ve had very little experience with giving birth. The closest I’ve ever been to an actual birth was sitting in the hallway waiting for my friend Shannon to deliver her son, Liam. But what I do know is that birthing something new is hard — they don’t call it labor for nothing — and we often don’t see the results until after that truly hard work is over. That is the nature of any birth, not just the ones that produce a baby, like the one we anxiously await in this season. And like childbirth, those doing the birthing are presented with both challenge and gift.

Change Your Life in the Summer of 2010 at the Alliance of Baptists Convocation in California and the Baptist Peace Fellowship of North America Summer Conference in New York. To learn more about 2 great gatherings in 2 stunning settings, please visit bpna.org and allianceofbaptists.org.

Wind and water can be incredibly dangerous — think hurricane or tsunami. But they are also life giving. It is the wind that delivers the seed that gives rise to the new flowering plant and it is the water that nourishes that bud. The bird rides the wind southward every winter and northward every summer to preserve and create new life.      Our very human survival is dependent on water. Jesus telling us we must be born of wind and water comes with these same challenges and gifts. The challenge is to listen and notice when the winds of the Spirit are blowing, to wait patiently when the winds seem to have died down completely, and to hold on when it seems as if we might be blown away by gusts moving around us. The challenge is to not be drowned by the waters of our world that would keep us planted firmly in the way things have always been done or by our inability to get out of the way and allow God’s flowing current of love and life to go where it longs to go. Giving birth to the new thing that the Spirit seeks to do in our world and in our lives often comes with great effort. And all too often if feels as if we will never see the fruits of that labor. But just as winter always turns to spring, the rains always come, and the winds always begin to blow, so too does the Spirit of Wind and Water always give way to new life. 

How might we be both born of wind and water? How might we seek the gift of new life that is often hidden and obscured by the challenges of our stubbornness and impatience? How might we be caught up in the great dance of the Spirit that is often found in stillness?  How might we experience the birth that is often found on the other side of death? Come explore these paradoxes with us at Asilomar in Pacific Grove, Calif., July 29-Aug. 1.