4 Lent – March 10, 2024
John 3:14-21
We have an interesting pairing of stories today – one from the Old Testament Book of Numbers, and one from John’s Gospel. In the Old Testament story, the Israelites, having lost patience yet again with the hardships of life in the desert, speak out against God and Moses. “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?” they ask. “For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.”
Their complaint is the final one in a long line of “murmurs” — murmurs that until this point in the post-Egypt narrative, God answers with compassionate, long-suffering care. This time, it appears that God sends poisonous serpents in response. They do repent and God has Moses make a poisonous serpent on a pole for those bitten to look upon and live.
Now fast forward several centuries, to the conversation John’s Gospel records between Jesus and a Pharisee named Nicodemus. When Nicodemus approaches Jesus under cover of night to inquire about God, they enter into a long and strange conversation about birth, light, Spirit, and belief. At one point in the conversation, what we read today, Jesus refers back to the ancient story from Numbers which Nicodemus must know inside out, and says: “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
What an odd comparison, the loving, saving Messiah to the bronze replica of a poisonous snake. What does it mean?
It’s important to know that, in those times, snakes were seen not just as the enemy but also as symbols of protection. The pharaoh in Egypt often wore a head piece that displayed a hooded cobra. The snake was there to protect the pharaoh, to spit venom at his enemies should they try to hurt him.
Ancient people realized the irony in snakes. The venom found in snakes is the source of medicine by which snake bites can be healed, so the symbol of two intertwined snakes is used even today by the American Medical Association. Why? Well, if you’ve ever had major surgery you know that there is a not so fun recovery period that occurs after the surgery. Eventually we do recover and usually feel better than we did before the surgery. But, in essence, the doctors have to hurt you in order to make you whole.
Another interesting historical perspective – the poisonous snakes were referred to by the Hebrews as fiery serpents, because that is how you feel when you are bitten by one of them… fiery, feverish. The Hebrew word for it is seraph, from which the heavenly being is named, Seraphim. The snake, which brings a terrible, painful death, is also the Seraph which gives life. It’s a paradox.
It’s strange. But Jesus says it is the nature of salvation… that in the hands of God, “evil and good, threat and promise, life and death are all somehow mixed up.”
We are once again standing at the foot of the cross and we are reminded that we have choices in life. We are reminded as we look at the cross that we will die, so the larger question becomes ‘how do we live a life worthwhile of our breath’?
Remember the Old Cherokee Legend of the two wolves. I’ve shared it several times over the years, but it’s well worth hearing again.
An Old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy. “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.” The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
John’s gospel tells us this morning “And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”
There is actually good news in this statement. Judgment, as it turns out, is about telling the truth. The Greek word “Krisis” is the root of our word crisis in the sense of a decisive turning point. God’s mercy made manifest in the lifting up of the Son, the visible sign of God’s grace poured out for the world, creates for us a crisis, a turning point, a decisive moment that we might perceive and receive God’s redemptive, life changing love.
We’re standing at the foot of the cross. When we make decisions, when we are in our moments of crisis, so to speak, all sorts of thoughts can go through our minds. We are asked to pause and see, really see ourselves. Remember we have two wolves inside of us. What makes the difference is which one we feed, which thought we give life to and take action on. When we realize that we have sinned, we can bring it into the light of God and with God’s grace and mercy, we will be redeemed.
And so Christ comes to ask us about darkness and light: What do we love more? Where will we allow this love to take us?
To enter into relationship with God and to live connected to God’s life and power, is like a branch that draws its life from the vine. Only by abiding in God can we be instruments of God’s love and healing and salvation in our world. We are called to live by grace. The words of Saint Francis can be a daily reminder of God’s purpose for us and for the world.
Lord, make us instruments of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let us sow love.
Where there is injury, pardon.
Where there is doubt, faith.
Where there is despair, hope.
Where there is darkness, light.
And where there is sadness, Joy.
This is God’s mission in the world, and it is ours. “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son”. Amen.
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