Start Over
Numbers 21:4-9; John 3:14-21

March 30, 2003

In a world caught up and dragged down by what is happening in the Near East, keep always in mind that the Bible is a Near Eastern book. In the case of the early books of the Old Testament, amidst all the infamous rules and regulations and genealogical lists in Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy, the narrative keeps coming back to a bedraggled bunch of freed slaves wandering in the wilderness of Sinai. Seldom are they happy campers. Yet, they were not really wandering aimlessly.

They should have been on the borders of the Promised Land, but the government of Edom prohibited the Israelites from traveling through their territory - a no-fly zone without the flying.

Instead, we find them walking along the Red Sea Road, a well-worn trade route, as a kind of detour. Detours always seem to get you into trouble rather than evade it as it’s supposed to. Was it any wonder all of this detoured wandering put the Israelites in a poor mood? “Are we there yet?” from the back of the caravan.

Complaining is just part of wandering. Lost people find anything irritating. The Israelites may been freed from 400 or so years of slavery, but they didn’t like camping out. “Why did you drag us out of Egypt to die in this forsaken country?” Tell us, are we having fun yet being free? We’ve heard this line before on the Exodus - complaining of lack of water, lack of meat, lack of bread - so at least they were being consistent.

However, the story stops beings consistent, for God no longer takes the criticism kindly and sends out poisonous snakes to bite and kill more than a few complainers. The leaders get the point and admit their sin: they spoke out against both God and Moses. Pray to God for us, they all but order Moses, and Moses prays for them. I guess they weren’t Protestants yet, for they didn’t have the skills for prayer.

God tells Moses to have a bronze serpent cast, stick it on a pole, and tell the bitten ones to look up at it and they will be healed. And so it came to pass.

This doesn’t sound the typical Biblical fare, and it caused problems for the Jews as well, because after all, there not supposed to be any idols that one looks up to for help. Somehow this was the exception, although inevitably the bronze serpent had to smashed into pieces by King Hoshea (2 Kings 18:4) because people had indeed been worshiping it, even giving it a name, Nehushtan.

To some extent this is explainable: the serpent seemed to lead a double life in ancient Near Eastern society, both the symbol of evil and also of healing. That is why the logo of the physician has a snake entwined around the staff of Mercury. I’m certain you have been enriched by this knowledge.

This is one case where the story leaps immediately into the Gospel, right into the words of Jesus, using this bizarre tale as a metaphorical type of his own life. Look up at the Son of Man lifted up - on the Cross and lifted up into heaven - and you will be saved, healed eternally.

A lot of you are pretty skeptical right now. In the time of tragic war, is this all it takes, an almost magical wink at a bronze idol? We reserve these gestures for Harry Potter and the like. We need to think a different life and do through our actions a life we’ve only just imagined. There are a lot of people who come very close to trusting in magic for their religious faith, but not us. It’s how we think and act, not wink.

Especially in the Near Eastern climate in which we are living, it is apparent the Old and New Testaments are not disconnected, different books for different religions. Here the original sense of the bronze serpent has faded from our concern; the Gospel interprets its purpose as a kind of metaphorical cross that gives healing and life in the life of Jesus.

Yet what should not be allowed to fade away and be conveniently forgotten is Israel’s attitude in the wilderness: a self-centred faithlessness in God’s providence. We have decided how God’s world is supposed to run, and when our criteria are not met, we charge God with treason.

God loved the world infinitely - how else would the infinite God know how to love? God loved what he had created, but which was so terribly ungodly and opposite to his nature. God loved that which was least like him.

As a consequence, God gave that which was closest to him, the Only Begotten Son. There have been thousands of books written, councils held, churches split over exactly how close this Son is to God. Did God give up himself to the world? Yes; you can’t save by delegation.

God so loved this impossible world that he did not want it to destroy itself. God wanted people to have a deep relationship with him - that’s what it means to believe in him. Not just fasts and sacrifices, not just knowledge, not just feelings and emotions, not just experiences, but all these things glued together by love for its own sake are what make a real healthy life.

This is not quite universalism, that everybody will be saved in the end, for there are those who seek refuge in darkness - almost oxymoronic - resisting the light and refusing to trust and believe and participate in this relationship. Just looking up at a cross and saying a prayer is not enough in this particular world, or any others.

What is required of us is to start over, start from the beginning, and forget for a good while all our magnificent churches and cathedrals, forget our colourful vestments and wonderfully moving worship services. Start over with the impossible task of developing a deep relationship with the infinite God who has this impossible habit of making God become flesh and blood and serving you and me well beyond what we’ve earned.

In the time of war, such a relationship always makes you give up your own aspirations and the offenses you perceive against you. Our God does not bring us to victory; our God makes us whole and healthy, and saves, yes, our soul. With God, all things are possible.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan