“A Quiet Work of Grace”

There is a quiet encouragement in the story of Nicodemus—a man whose spiritual journey teaches us that beginnings, even when weak and uncertain, are not to be despised. His story, scattered in three places across John’s Gospel, unfolds with such patient beauty that we must pause and reflect on its lesson: the Lord delights in the faintest beginnings of grace.

“For who has despised the day of small things?” – Zechariah 4:10 (BSB)

Nicodemus first appears in John 3, coming to Jesus by night. He is a Pharisee and a ruler of the Jews, yet he approaches with hesitancy, inquiring gently, “Rabbi, we know that You have come from God as a teacher” (John 3:2, BSB). He is not yet ready to stand in open daylight with Jesus, but he is drawn. Some might be tempted to write off such a man—timid, uncertain, unwilling to stake a bold claim for truth. But the Savior receives him without scorn. He challenges him, yes, but He does not cast him away. “Truly, truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again” (John 3:3, BSB).

Here we learn something vital: spiritual life begins with birth, not full maturity. A newborn cries before it walks. The same is true of grace in the soul. The Lord Jesus never disdained the weak beginnings of faith. As the prophet Isaiah foretold and Matthew confirmed, “A bruised reed He will not break, and a smoldering wick He will not extinguish, till He leads justice to victory” (Matthew 12:20, BSB). Nicodemus was both the reed and the wick—bent, flickering—but not broken.

Some may ask: where is the fruit of this quiet interview? We see it unfold slowly. In John 7:50–51, when the Pharisees seek to arrest Jesus, Nicodemus speaks—still carefully, but courageously—“Does our law convict a man without first hearing from him?” The man who once came by night now begins to speak in public, even if cautiously. Then finally, in John 19:39, after the crucifixion, he appears again—this time with Joseph of Arimathea—bringing myrrh and aloes to bury the body of Jesus. No longer hiding. No longer hesitating. His reverence is open, costly, and bold.

What a contrast to Judas Iscariot. Judas stood among the Twelve, performed miracles, and outwardly followed Christ. His profession was immediate and impressive. Yet it ended in ruin. While Nicodemus rose slowly, from shadows to sunlight, Judas fell, from apostolic office to betrayal and despair.

This comparison is no accident. It is a holy warning to us not to judge by first appearances. The flickering beginnings of faith may grow into a steady flame, while the brightest torch may burn out in the wind. How important, then, to heed the wisdom of Zechariah: “For who has despised the day of small things?” (Zechariah 4:10, BSB).

Let us be careful not to mistake early weakness for the absence of grace. The Lord knows how to nurture faith in its tender stages. If He deals so patiently with hesitant inquirers, so must we. Our task is not to measure the flame but to feed it—to take seekers by the hand and, with gentleness, lead them closer to the Light of the world.

Let us pray that we would not be quick to judge the struggling, the timid, or the slow to understand. Instead, may we mirror the Savior’s tenderness, remembering that in the kingdom of God, it is not how loudly one begins, but how faithfully one endures.

“The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining brighter and brighter until midday.”

— Proverbs 4:18 (BSB)

Amen.