Community Church Sermons
Year B
The Fourth Sunday in
Lent
Numbers 21:4-9
John 3:14-21
Rev. Rhonda A. Blevins
I love a good snake story, don’t you? Maybe the
reason why I love a good snake story is because of the raw fear that snakes
seem to evoke in people. I’ve read that the fear of snakes is the number one
fear for Americans. More of us fear
snakes than disease [1] despite the fact that 1 in 13 of us will contract some
form of disease and only 1 in 70,000 of us will ever experience the fiery
tongue of the serpent.
Perhaps this seemingly innate fear of snakes is
what makes this week’s Old Testament passage such a fascinating read. Imagine
the scene with me. The children of Israel are STILL roaming around in the
desert; they’ve been wandering for nearly 40 years at this point. Most of the
people who started out on this journey had died there in the desert, never to
see the Promised Land. The next generation was in power now, but we discover
that just like their forebears, patience was not their strong suit. “Why have
you done this to us Moses? Why did you lead us out of Egypt for us to die here
in the wilderness?” So for the fifth time in the book of Numbers, they formed a
“Let’s Go Back to Egypt” committee[2]
and they made a motion which needed no second since it came from a committee.
However, before the congregation could vote, snakes started pouring into their
sanctuary. They were slithering in from the windows, dropping down out of the
light fixtures, sliding out of the baby grand piano. You would have thought the
whole company was experiencing some sort of charismatic revival with ladies in
their choir robes screaming and jumping up on their chairs!
Fear. Raw, unadulterated fear. Alive and well
today just as in the day of Moses.
My friend Lisa fears snakes more than any person
I know. Lisa also happens to be one of the most emotive people I know. You
never have to guess how Lisa is feeling. Lisa can be quite a prankster and a
whole lot of fun to pick on. Lisa and I were working together one summer during
college at a camp. One day I was
walking along when I happened upon a very large black racer snake, recently
deceased, presumably hit by a car. Immediately a little devil appeared on my shoulder
and whispered a devious plot in my ear. With great care, I slid our slithery
friend with a stick into a bag, and carried it stealthily into Lisa’s room.
Once there, I pulled back Lisa’s comforter, laid down some wax paper (so that
snake guts wouldn’t get everywhere), placed the serpent onto the wax paper,
gently covered the snake again with wax paper, and pulled the blanket back into
place. I gathered all evidence and quickly made my escape.
I wasn’t there to witness the scene, but I’m
told that when Lisa arrived in her room, talking and laughing with the other
girls, she pulled back her covers, and somehow the snake slid off the bed
landing at her feet! Lisa jumped and screamed, and the best part of the story?
She completely lost control of her bladder. It would be a couple of weeks before
Lisa would talk to me.
The fear that Lisa experienced that day was
exponentially multiplied back in the desert where the Children of Israel roamed
amid the serpents. However, the snakes there were alive and well—the venom
lethal. The Hebrew Children interpreted this “snake fest” as God’s punishment
for their grumbling. So the “Let’s Go Back to Egypt Committee” put their
efforts on hold and asked Moses to put in a good word for them to Yahweh.
What happens next is just plain weird. Seemingly contrary to the second commandment
issued just a few years earlier (You shall not make for yourself an idol), God
instructed Moses to form a bronze snake and place it high on a pole. Moses
quickly hammered a brass vessel into the image of the very serpents that were attacking.
“He wound the brass snake around the crosspiece of his staff and then he ran
through the camp, holding the staff aloft and calling out to the people in the
throes of their agony, ‘LOOK UP! LOOK UP
and be saved! LOOK UP! LOOK UP and
be saved!’” [3] If a person received a snake bite, the
antivenin was to simply LOOK UP at
the bronze snake. But the strangest part of this story is that this remedy
actually worked!
How do we interpret this paradoxical narrative
where the very source of fear and death becomes
a symbol of hope and healing?
For starters, think about a time when you
experienced the bite of a scalpel. How many of you have undergone some kind of
surgery at one time or another? “Anyone who has had surgery knows something
about the terror and healing of snakes on a pole. The American Medical
Association adopted the image of the ancient Greek god of healing, a snake
twined on a staff.” [4] A snake as a symbol
of healing? The paradox is that usually when you go to the hospital, hurt
precedes health. Oftentimes, danger paves the way to wholeness. Sometimes a
symbol of death can be the means to new life.
Another way we can understand the story of Moses
and the bronze serpent is to interpret the story the way the ancient Jews did.
In ancient rabbinical thought, the
bronze serpent itself was not the source of their healing like some magic
potion; rather, it was their willingness to LOOK UP and submit themselves to God. [5]
Faith, not magic, became their elixir.
This interpretation
was undoubtedly familiar to Jesus, and it became the backdrop possibly the most
memorized verse in all of scripture (John 3:16). Yet right before Jesus
proclaims this powerful credo, he reminds Nicodemus of this strange and
enigmatic story of Moses lifting up a bronze serpent on a pole. Just like that
snake on the stick, Jesus tells Nicodemus, “so must the Son of Man be lifted up
that whoever believes may in Him have eternal life.”
Oddly, Jesus compares himself to the snake on
the stick. Why?
Here’s the point. When you’re in the desert, lost or tired, afraid or in pain, the
snakes circling round about you, you have a choice. You can look down. You can
focus on your fear, casting your gaze on the serpents that threaten. You can
look down as you run away; You can look down and declare war on that which
threatens, grabbing the snakes as they attempt to bite you. You can look down.
You have that choice.
You can also look away. Resign yourself to the
situation. Give into the snakes having lost any illusion of control. You can
look away. You can refuse to look at that which promises hope. I’m convinced
that’s what most of the world’s atheists have done. They have simply looked
away.
But hear Moses shouting out to the people, “LOOK UP! LOOK UP and be saved!” Saved
not by magic, but by faith! Your faith is what will save you! LOOK UP and be saved.
That’s the message of John 3:16. Yes, it’s hope
for tomorrow, but more than that, it’s hope for today! It is a given that life
will lead you through snake-infested lands. You might even get bitten, but,
child of God, LOOK UP!” Jesus
compared himself to the snake on the stick because he knew that the ugliness of
the cross would become a symbol of hope if people would simply LOOK UP that hill called Golgotha. LOOK UP and be saved!
In one of my favorite books, Man’s Search for Meaning, Viktor Frankl
recounts his suffering in a concentration camp during the Second World War.
During his imprisonment, Frankl became convinced that the only prisoners who
would survive the unfathomable atrocities heaped upon them were the ones who
maintained a strong sense of hope. Those who clung to some vision of a better
day were the ones who would survive. After Frankl’s release, he developed a
psychological theory and treatment tool based on his ideas about hope and
meaning.
Fast forward to 2008. New York Times writer Tim Sanders
began informally testing Frankl’s theory. Sanders is a frequent, almost daily,
flyer. During his travels he often encounters people who are visibly irritable
from the rigors of travel, uptight and anxious. He began to engage in
conversation with grumpy seatmates, prompting them to talk about the purpose of
their journey. He describes the grouchy man who talked about the sales
presentation he would deliver at his destination. Clearly excited about his
product and the possibility of a large commission, the longer he talked the
more relaxed and cheerful he became. Or the woman he encountered, clearly
anxious, barking at the flight attendant to bring her a drink. At first she
confessed her fear of flying, but when asked about the reason for her travel,
her mood immediately shifted. She would be seeing her granddaughter in Russia
for the first time. She showed pictures of her granddaughter to Sanders. As her
focus shifted from the misery of her travel to the hope of meeting this
treasured little girl, Sanders said her entire demeanor changed. She
transformed from a nervous traveler into a proud and confident
grandmother.
Simply put, the hope
these travelers found in some future event gave them joy in their journey.
We all find
ourselves among snakes from time to time. The question the scripture poses is,
“What will be your response?” You can certainly look down, which is often our
instinctual first response. You can look away frustrated by the futility of
looking down. But I challenge you to LOOK
UP! Fix your gaze the One who was lifted up that we might have eternal,
abundant life! LOOK UP! LOOK UP and
be saved! Amen.
[1] “Oddly,
Americans Fear Snakes More Than Disease” October
28, 2008. http://www.livescience.com/health/081028-diabetes-fear.html.
[2] Craig Kocher, “Numbers 21:4-9—Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word, Year B, Volume 2, David L. Bartlett & Barbara Brown Taylor, ed. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2008, p. 98.
[3] Phyllis
Tickle, “A Serpent in the Desert,” November 6, 2005, http://www.csec.org/csec/sermon/tickle_4906.htm.
[4] Kocher, p. 100.