Num 21:4-9; Ephesians 2:1-10
John 3:14-21;Ps 107:1-3, 17-22
We begin our remarkable set of scriptures this morning with the story in Exodus of the wilting courage and growing anger of the Israelites in the wilderness. They are so sick of Manna. They cry out to Moses, “Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?” And “We detest this miserable food!” They thought the worst thing about the wilderness was the lack of food and water, but that was before they met the poisonous serpents.
Interestingly, the Hebrew word used in Exodus for these poisonous serpents is “Seraphim.” The exact same word that Isaiah uses for the angelic beings in the famous story of his calling. Isaiah’s winged angels spent their time calling back and forth to each other these familiar words: “Holy Holy Holy Lord God of hosts, heaven and earth are full of your glory…”
Then one of these winged beings brings a glowing hot coal to the reportedly unclean lips of Isaiah, his lips are made clean, and he says to the Lord, “Here am I, send me.”
The Old Testament goes back and forth from descriptions of an all-forgiving God and a punishing one. But in this case, it seems God has had about enough of their whining, and gives the ultimate punishment. The scripture tells us that many of the Israelites died from the bite of the poisonous serpents.
But our story then takes a surprising turn. It seems that the redeeming, angelic nature of the Seraphim now manifests.
Because Moses, at the behest of God, makes a model of one of these seraphim, raises it up on a stick, and rather than poisoning people, this icon of the serpent heals anyone of the snake bite they have suffered. This seraph is now an agent of God, like the coal-bearing one in Isaiah’s story. This serpent now brings life, not death.
Life and death are the subject of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians as well.
But here he speaks of a spiritual death brought by sin- by a self-separation from God. And he tells us that it is God’s tremendous love and mercy that brings us back to life- though grace- not through our works. We are returned through grace to the people we were meant to be. He tells us, “for we are what he has made us.”
And now in our Gospel we have Jesus compared to the Seraph- Jesus too is raised up- and the Greek word means both lifted up and exhalted- as the ultimate manifestation of God’s grace and forgiveness.
It is fascinating that Jesus and the snake are so closely compared in this passage- that the snake brought life, and Jesus brings eternal life. In many ancient cultures the snake symbolized immortality, because of the continuing shedding of its skin and the appearance of a constant rebirth. The Jewish understanding of the snake as an agent of evil was a very late one, and apparently the memory of its previous status as an agent of life remained in some Old Testament texts.
Next we have the passage in John that has often been called the whole gospel in one sentence:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
This is the only passage in John that says that Jesus was “given” by God, rather than “sent by God.” The difference is important because it shows us that the incarnation- the gift of Jesus- springs purely from God’s great love for the world.
As is so often the case in the Gospel of John, the great contrast of light and darkness is used to separate the believers from the non-believers.
But we all have periods of darkness. Perhaps a period of mourning, or a period of depression. Loss of our livelihood, loss of our health, loss of our family. And we are all familiar with the feeling of wanting certain deeds to remain in the darkness. We may have periods in our lives where we love the darkness, as it provides us with some element of cover. We may not wish to be seen. We may believe that no one wants to see us. We may believe that no one would reach out to us in our darkness.
But then we might have an experience of a blinding light coming into our lives. The birth of a child, the finding of a great love, a vision of God or of an angel, an experience of God saving us when we could not save ourselves. Or perhaps a calling when we feel, in our darkness, that we have unclean lips. We have all been bitten by snakes in this life, and if you are listening to me now you have survived by grace.
Sometimes being saved will not look like we imagine it might. It might hurt. It might be as painful as a snake bite to give up those things we know we should. It might feel like starving to death, or dying of thirst. But so often angels do appear for us, in many different disguises. They save us. They lift us up, and, with grace, they bring us into the light.
Amen.
John 3:14-21;Ps 107:1-3, 17-22
We begin our remarkable set of scriptures this morning with the story in Exodus of the wilting courage and growing anger of the Israelites in the wilderness. They are so sick of Manna. They cry out to Moses, “Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?” And “We detest this miserable food!” They thought the worst thing about the wilderness was the lack of food and water, but that was before they met the poisonous serpents.
Interestingly, the Hebrew word used in Exodus for these poisonous serpents is “Seraphim.” The exact same word that Isaiah uses for the angelic beings in the famous story of his calling. Isaiah’s winged angels spent their time calling back and forth to each other these familiar words: “Holy Holy Holy Lord God of hosts, heaven and earth are full of your glory…”
Then one of these winged beings brings a glowing hot coal to the reportedly unclean lips of Isaiah, his lips are made clean, and he says to the Lord, “Here am I, send me.”
The Old Testament goes back and forth from descriptions of an all-forgiving God and a punishing one. But in this case, it seems God has had about enough of their whining, and gives the ultimate punishment. The scripture tells us that many of the Israelites died from the bite of the poisonous serpents.
But our story then takes a surprising turn. It seems that the redeeming, angelic nature of the Seraphim now manifests.
Because Moses, at the behest of God, makes a model of one of these seraphim, raises it up on a stick, and rather than poisoning people, this icon of the serpent heals anyone of the snake bite they have suffered. This seraph is now an agent of God, like the coal-bearing one in Isaiah’s story. This serpent now brings life, not death.
Life and death are the subject of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians as well.
But here he speaks of a spiritual death brought by sin- by a self-separation from God. And he tells us that it is God’s tremendous love and mercy that brings us back to life- though grace- not through our works. We are returned through grace to the people we were meant to be. He tells us, “for we are what he has made us.”
And now in our Gospel we have Jesus compared to the Seraph- Jesus too is raised up- and the Greek word means both lifted up and exhalted- as the ultimate manifestation of God’s grace and forgiveness.
It is fascinating that Jesus and the snake are so closely compared in this passage- that the snake brought life, and Jesus brings eternal life. In many ancient cultures the snake symbolized immortality, because of the continuing shedding of its skin and the appearance of a constant rebirth. The Jewish understanding of the snake as an agent of evil was a very late one, and apparently the memory of its previous status as an agent of life remained in some Old Testament texts.
Next we have the passage in John that has often been called the whole gospel in one sentence:
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”
This is the only passage in John that says that Jesus was “given” by God, rather than “sent by God.” The difference is important because it shows us that the incarnation- the gift of Jesus- springs purely from God’s great love for the world.
As is so often the case in the Gospel of John, the great contrast of light and darkness is used to separate the believers from the non-believers.
But we all have periods of darkness. Perhaps a period of mourning, or a period of depression. Loss of our livelihood, loss of our health, loss of our family. And we are all familiar with the feeling of wanting certain deeds to remain in the darkness. We may have periods in our lives where we love the darkness, as it provides us with some element of cover. We may not wish to be seen. We may believe that no one wants to see us. We may believe that no one would reach out to us in our darkness.
But then we might have an experience of a blinding light coming into our lives. The birth of a child, the finding of a great love, a vision of God or of an angel, an experience of God saving us when we could not save ourselves. Or perhaps a calling when we feel, in our darkness, that we have unclean lips. We have all been bitten by snakes in this life, and if you are listening to me now you have survived by grace.
Sometimes being saved will not look like we imagine it might. It might hurt. It might be as painful as a snake bite to give up those things we know we should. It might feel like starving to death, or dying of thirst. But so often angels do appear for us, in many different disguises. They save us. They lift us up, and, with grace, they bring us into the light.
Amen.
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