The
Preacher’s Study
Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year B
John W.B. Hill
Numbers
21:4b-9
Psalm
107:17-22
Ephesians
2:1-10
John 3:14-21
When I was a summer camp counsellor, I took the boys
from my cabin on a hike through the woods one day. It was very hot, and the mosquitoes were
ferocious. It wasn’t long before some of
the boys began to wonder aloud whether I knew where I was taking them. Then someone stepped in a hornet’s nest, and
some of us got stung. There was panic
and a sudden unanimous conviction that we were lost, and that it was my fault —
a minor mutiny.
The metaphor of the serpent in the wilderness which
John uses to amplify the message of the cross (and which the lectionary has
chosen to reinforce) seems bizarre.
Stories of wilderness grumbling about food are frequent in the story of
the Exodus, but this version is unique: immediate punishment by snake-bite, and
a remedy that looks suspiciously like a graven image! There are depths to this story we may never
fathom — although the similarity to the staff of Asclepias, the Greek god of
healing, can hardly be coincidental. The
pharmacological wisdom of using a small dose of the poison as the antidote to
the poison (as in vaccination) may be part of the answer. More to the point, if the people were to be
healed they would have to ‘face up to’ the thing they feared.
But did everyone get bitten? Or did the few who got bitten trigger a panic
amongst the many who were already predisposed to fear the worst? And which was the greater danger: snake-bite,
or social hysteria? Was Moses perhaps
viewed as the real ‘snake’?
These, after all, are some of the social dynamics that
came into play in the story of Jesus: resentment about God’s failure to save us
in the way we would have preferred, a resentment we project onto any convenient
scapegoat, and the unchecked power of an evil spirit that we have been
unwilling to acknowledge or ‘face up to’.
So Jesus became our scapegoat. But that does not justify using crucifixes as
therapeutic charms. Rather, beholding
the cross must be a ‘facing up to’ the reality that we actually rejected his
way and resorted to violence to express our frustrations and our fears. We have to ‘face up to’ the crime we
committed against the One who was the world’s best hope. And yet his arms are outstretched in mercy
still!
One of assumptions buried in the snake-bite story is
that God inflicts such evil as punishment for sin — a common assumption in the
most ancient strata of scripture. But
the gospel rejects this simplistic theodicy and invites us to recognize how our
own faithlessness and defection from God’s ways constitute a judgement that we
pass upon ourselves: “this is the judgement, that the light has come into the
world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were
evil.”
However, the reading from the Letter to the Ephesians
takes us one step further. It portrays
our dilemma as a fatal entrapment: “You were dead through the trespasses and
sins in which you once lived, following the course of this world...following
the desires of the flesh and senses...by nature children of wrath”. A more insightful account of our contemporary
global crisis would be hard to find! It
suggests that our defection from God’s ways has left us captive to
psycho-social forces that can only adequately be named using mythological
language: “the ruler of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work
among those who are disobedient”.
And yet, what follows in the text is truly good news:
“But God, rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us, even
when we were dead through our trespasses, made
us alive together with Christ.”
Here is something very important for baptismal
candidates (and all who are returning to the truth of their baptism) to
hear. “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.”
This penitential season is a time for recognizing the forces that have
held us captive; but it is not a time for digging ourselves out! What we must do is simply turn toward the
light, turn to the one who is our
deliverance and let him lift us up. Believing in him is not a meritorious thing
to do; it is his merit, not ours,
that counts, and we can learn to follow him, becoming what he is, by God’s
gracious gift.
John W. B. Hill is an Anglican presbyter
living in Toronto, Canada. He is a Council member of APLM, chair of Liturgy
Canada, and author of one of the first Anglican sources for catechumenal
practice.
“God
Turns Moses’ Staff into a Serpent” ~ Marc Chagall (1966)
“Moses
Erecting the Brazen Serpent (Numbers XXI, 9)” ~ William Blake (1800-03)
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