Category Archives: Lenten preparation

March 12, 2012

Lists and Love

By marciglass

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian, Boise, Idaho

March 11, 2012

Exodus 20:1-17

John 2:13-22

We are a people who like lists.

Here are the titles of some books I found in a bookstore:

“10 Simple Steps to Lower your Cholesterol!”

“10 Spiritual Steps to a Magical Life”

“10 Steps to Beat Depression Now!”

“Simple Steps: 10 weeks to Getting Control of your Life”

“Awakening Joy: 10 Steps That Will Put You on the Road to Real Happiness”

I suspect that we know that depression can’t be tackled in 10 easy steps. I suspect we know that a magical life is not 10 steps away. What does that even mean?

But we love our lists. We love to be able to say, “if you follow these rules, then you are a good Christian, a good American, a good employee, whatever.”

This week in the news, a county chapter of one of the political parties tried to institute a list for candidates to adhere to before they could run for office. It was quickly shot down by the higher ups, but the best intentions of the people who came up with the idea was that if the candidates agreed to their 28 items on the list, then they would know they agreed with them enough to vote for them.

Even within our own denomination, we struggle with lists. There are churches leaving the denomination right now, partly because they feel we don’t give their list of what it takes to be a faithful Presbyterian as seriously as we should.

But here’s one of the problem with lists. They are never complete. We could come up with a list of what it means to be a Christian, but where would we end it? Because doesn’t our faith bring life to all different aspects of our lives?

I was running a before and after school program at an elementary school when Justin and I were first married. I had to make a list of rules and expectations to hang in the cafeteria. The list I inherited said things like, “no running in the cafeteria”, “no screaming”, “put your games away before you get out another game”, etc. So I was trying to work with that list and it just kept getting longer and longer and longer. And that is no fun for adult or child. 
So my supervisor helpfully advised me to approach the task differently. Listing specific behaviors like “no running with scissors in the cafeteria” then gives kids license to run with scissors in the school hallways, or run without scissors in the cafeteria.

And so she suggested I make a different kind of list. And it went something like this. “Respect yourself. Respect each other. Be a good neighbor.” And then, whenever Nathaniel, beloved child of God, was about to use his blunt scissors to give Susie a haircut, I could say, “Nathaniel, how does that behavior fit with our rules?” And he would reluctantly put down the scissors and go find something else to do.

People try to use the 10 Commandments as a top ten litmus test.
10 magical steps to being a Christian!

And while the 10 Commandments should be instructive in how we live, they are much more than that.

They are a reminder of the Covenant that God established with the people. And when we remember the Covenant, the crazy idea that God has chosen to be for us, that God has chosen to partner with us as God’s people, it should evoke in us a sense of gratitude. Because God has chosen to be our God not because of our worthiness, but because of the mysterious grace of God. And that should evoke our gratitude. That should call us to ask, “how can we respond to such a gift?”

And the 10 Commandments give us an idea of our response. God spoke all those words to help us live together in Covenant before God and with each other.

And we have the image of those words, written on stone.

But we know that stone is not the most convenient medium for communication. When I send Alden to the store to buy groceries, I write the list on a piece of paper. Stone tablets would not be helpful. When I write directions down for a stranger who is lost and trying to find their way, I don’t use stone tablets. Even Moses had other options back in the day.
And yet, they wrote them in stone.

And not so he could throw them at people and hurt them if they weren’t following them correctly. God gives us the law to convict us, to instruct us, to help us live life together. But not so we can use the Law to wound each other.

And yet he wrote them in stone.

Because that is how people would mark treaties and covenants. Stone is how you write something that is permanent and that you want people to remember. The shopping list I send with Alden does not need to be remembered once he is past the check out line.

All of the words that God spoke to Moses when the 10 Commandments were written down, however, should be remembered.  And not so we can tell others how to live. I mean, you can post them on the lawn of the courthouse, or on your own personal lawn, but only if you intend them to be there to change and guide your own behavior.

One of my professors tells the story of seeing someone mowing their lawn around their 10 Commandments yard art. The great irony, of course, is that the person was mowing the lawn on a Sunday. “Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the LORD your God; you shall not do any work”.

And the other day I was returning a Bible at Barnes and Noble for exchange when the salesman stopped to remove the anti-theft sticker in the Bible.

“We have to add anti-theft devices to Bibles. They are our most stolen merchandise,” he told me.

“Really? Bibles are stolen more than any other book? That is not a good statement about the state of American Christianity”, I said.

“No, no it is not,” he replied.

“Thou shalt not steal“.

We seem to enjoy using our lists to help other people live, and seem to be less interested in having them help us know how to live.

It is better for God to be the one writing in stone. We tend to need to edit. We like to make qualifications.

“Remember the Sabbath Day and keep it Holy*–(*unless you have a really busy week ahead, and then it is okay to work on the Sabbath).

Or

“You shall not steal*–(unless you really need it and they have enough and wouldn’t miss it anyway.)
“You shall honor your mother and father*–(unless they embarrass you in front of your friends or expect you to unload the dishwasher).

Some of you may have heard about the controversy at the Martin Luther King, Jr Memorial in Washington DC. Rather than put an entire quote of Dr King on the side of one of the carvings, they put a truncated version of a quote from one of his sermons.

The memorial’s chief architect told NPR that the quote was “a paraphrase of the original statement based on design constraints.”

Could you imagine God explaining the 10 Commandments are so short because they were a “paraphrase based on design constraints”?

Anyhow, in order to correct the quote, they either have to shave down the entire face of the stone and start again. Or else they have to go back to the quarry and get another piece of stone to attach to the carving.

It leaves me thankful that stone carving is not my job.

In our New Testament reading, Jesus and his opponents have a small conversation about stone carving. Jesus, in a moment of zeal, has just kicked the money changers, and turtle dove salesmen out of his Father’s house, the Temple.

And when his opponents ask for a sign, he tells them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up”.
But his opponents know that working with stone is hard work. Making something permanent takes time. And so they react with some incredulity.

“What? Are you kidding? We’ve been building this for 46 years and it isn’t finished yet! And do you know how much harder it is to get permits now? And the committee to select the carpet for the fellowship hall just, finally, agreed on the color for the carpet. They’ve been meeting for 45 of the 46 years! And you think you can rebuild it in 3 days?!”

But we, of course, know that Jesus isn’t talking about the building. He’s talking about his Body. And the resurrection. And in one of those rare moments where the gospel writer forgets where he is in the story, he makes reference to the resurrection. “After Jesus was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.” We’re still in chapter 2, for goodness sake, and he’s already giving away the ending!

And this is another reason I love John’s gospel. Jesus turns over tables, causes a ruckus, and then makes these outlandish claims that make no sense to his opponents. This Jesus will not be contained. He will not be easily explained.

But he challenges us to reconsider what is permanent.

We can carve things in stone, but it will erode. We can build large temples, but they will crumble. But only God, through the work of Jesus, can build something that is permanent. The Covenant that was evoked in the carving of the commandments is still in place today. The person of Jesus of Nazareth did not erase the Law, or replace the Law. He said, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill”. (Matt 5:17)

I invite you to consider that this weird text from John might be one way we see how Jesus fulfilled the law. He embodied the Law, and the Covenant, writing it not just in stone, but with his very body on a cross.

We are about halfway through Lent, our time of preparation for Holy Week. I invite you to be like the disciples, about whom the text says this:
“After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.”

What does it mean to us that Jesus died as he did? What does it mean to us that the tomb was empty on Easter morning? What does it mean to us that he referred to himself as the Temple?

If you don’t come up with easy answers to those questions, that is good. Because this is the mystery of our faith.
But if the 10 Commandments are one way for us to know how to live in community and with God, how does the crucified and risen Jesus show us an additional way how to live in community and with God?

It is much harder to look at Jesus and come up with a “10 Easy Steps to Be the Perfect Christian” list. Because Jesus defies our categories. He eats with the people we would pass by on the street. He turns over the tables of the money changers and turtle dove sellers, even if they are there to sell things that were found on lists in Scripture. He destroys our very understanding of Messiah by charting a course that would take him straight to the cross. He defies our very understanding of death by rising from the tomb on Easter morning.

So we look to the 10 Commandments to remember that God is FOR us and to see how to live in community. We look to Jesus and see the same thing—a reminder that God loved us so much that the very son of God came to live among us, showing us how to live. So, fight the tendency to limit your faith to lists. Instead, use the lists to transform your participation in the communal life we lead, and look to the list defying life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth to see what God’s love really looks like.

Amen

1 comment | posted in Exodus 20, John 2:13-22, Lenten preparation, Ten Commandments

March 4, 2012

Looking for the Big Picture

By marciglass

A sermon preached March 4, 2012 at Southminster Presbyterian Church in Boise, Idaho.

Psalm 22:23-31

Psalm 22 is arguably best known as being the source of the words Jesus chooses to say from the cross, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But if you can read past the crucifixion imagery in the first verses of this psalm, and make it to the passage we read this morning, the psalm expands from the very real complaints of an afflicted person into a hymn of hope, a promise of redemption, and a reminder of God’s love for, and authority over, the entire earth.

Isn’t that remarkable? In one little psalm, 31 verses, the narrative shifts from “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” to “future generations will…proclaim God’s deliverance to a people yet unborn…”

This reminds us, of course, that despair and hope are not mutually exclusive. Even in the midst of the worst despair, we have the capacity within us to also hold on to hope. It doesn’t mean we disregard our despair and cling, Pollyanna like, to only the positive moments. The psalmist allows for both to live together in one psalm. But it does mean that, even as we experience those moments of life that break our heart and crush our souls, it is okay to let hope and praise come forth too.

I wonder if sometimes we fear that we can’t honor or value our pain if we allow hope to creep in to the midst of it. Does it make us worry that we will forget what we have lost, how we have been hurt, if we can also see how we might be healed?

But the psalmist seems to not be bothered by despair and hope living alongside each other. Perhaps because he or she knew that we most truly understand the power of hope when we have experienced despair.

Really. Who worries about future redemption when the present already feels redeemed?

I want to be like this psalmist. I want to be able to see that entire spectrum of life within the scope of 31 verses. I want to be able to claim my despair, to cry out to God when I feel forsaken. But I also want to make claims of hope and redemption.

And not just personal redemption for me. While this psalm is personal— “God did not hide his face from me, but heard when I cried to him”— this psalm is not private.  “All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD.”

It is a reminder to us that while God does hear us, while God does listen for our cries, we are also a part of a larger story than just our own individual lives. Our story is connected to “all the ends of the earth” and “all the families of the nations.”

Somehow, though, we seem to live as if that isn’t true. We act as if we could get our own salvation, our own redemption, taken care of, without praying for and working for the salvation of our brothers and sisters in the pews next to us and across the world from us.

So, what does that mean? How do we live as if we believe what the psalmist is saying? How do our lives change if we believe this:

All the ends of the earth shall remember
and turn to the LORD;
and all the families of the nations
shall worship before him.

I would suggest that we need to read the news with more intention. We need to pay attention to what is going on down the street and across the world with an understanding that it affects us.

And once we have become aware of the despair and hopelessness that others are experiencing, then we can make a difference for them, and for ourselves. As Martin Luther King, jr, once said, “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”

The psalmist is calling us to live our personal despair into communal redemption.

One of the things I appreciate about this psalm is the view it affords us. It starts in close and personal with the anguish of the psalmist’s soul and the mistreatment he receives at the hands of his enemies. It reminds us that we all experience loss, pain, and grief.  But as the view expands, we are reminded that we are not alone. We are reminded that other people are with us in our journeys, through the good and the bad. We are reminded of our connection to each other as part of God’s family.  And we are reminded that it is God who is in charge.
“For dominion belongs to the LORD,
and God rules over the nations.”

And this is the good news. God is in charge. We are recipients of God’s grace, mercy, healing, and redemption, but it is God who has the whole world in hand.

So our job is not to hold on to our own problems or try to fix everyone else’s. The psalmist instructs us to remember that God is in control and to worship God, offering our thanks and praise for our deliverance, testifying and proclaiming deliverance so that the story can expand even further—to future generations yet unborn.

Putting our despair into the context of the world’s redemption also helps us see the beauty of the “big picture”. Listen to these words from author Ursula LeGuin.

“If you see a whole thing – it seems that it’s always beautiful. Planets, lives…. But close up a world’s all dirt and rocks. And day to day, life’s a hard job, you get tired, you lose the pattern.”

This is where the psalmist leaves us, inviting us to look up from the dirt and rocks of our personal lives so that we may see the beautiful pattern of God’s wider plan for the redemption of the world.

So, when you find yourself down amid the dirt and rocks, it is okay. Sometimes that is where we need to be. But remember to look up at the sky, seeking the stars, and remember that you are a part of God’s bigger plan for the redemption of the world.  And then, when the time is right, you can get up from the ground, wipe the dust from your hands, and get back to participating in the praise and worship that the world offers to God, so that future generations can also know about the Lord, learning about their place in the deliverance of the world too.

May it be so. Amen.

And here is the video from worship this morning. Who are you going to invite to join you for church next week?

Leave a comment | posted in Lenten preparation, Psalm 22

February 26, 2012

Out of the Crowd

By marciglass

A sermon preached February 25, 2012 at Southminster Presbyterian Church in Boise, Idaho.

Mark 8:31-38

Gen 17:1-7, 15-16

I apologize if the lectionary seems a little disjointed in this section.
It is.

Our gospel passage is the section immediately preceding what you heard last week, so we’re going backwards. Last week our Old Testament reading was from 2 Kings and now we are back in Genesis. And our passage from Genesis this morning reports the third time God has spoken with Abraham about promises of the future. And here they are, in case you can’t remember that far back.

I will make of you a great nation!

You shall be the ancestor of a multitude of nations!

I will establish my covenant between me and you….an everlasting covenant!

Surely this is all good news, right? But in the 25 years since God first spoke promises to Abram and Sarai, not much has changed in their family status.

They were childless then.

They are childless now.

And in their 90’s, one can imagine why they might seem incredulous at God’s repeated promises of offspring, ancestors, and blessing.

The story of Abram and Sarai is the story of two very imperfect people who manage to walk in faith and trust, despite themselves. And God, for reasons God understands, chooses them to be the ancestors of multitudes of nations and the three monotheistic faiths of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. The good news for us, is that God willingly enters into relationship with people who are like us. People who make mistakes. People who turn away from grace.
Everyone in this text gets a new name. Abram becomes Abraham. Sarai becomes Sarah, and God is called “El Shaddai”, or God Almighty. This passage is the first time El Shaddai occurs in the biblical text. Perhaps the new names are a tangible sign of the covenant. Much like in baptism, when we call the baptized by their name, it is a reminder that we are not a part of a crowd, but we are known by name, and claimed by God.

This covenant is also a reminder to us that all we have is a gift from God. We did not, we do not, earn this covenant. We receive this covenant. “Our concrete acts bear no more than a testimony to the divine promise of creation, reconciliation, and redemption.” (Mark Husbands in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol 2, page 54).  This covenant is a sign that God chooses to be for us. We do respond to the covenant, seeking to live faithful lives, but we are always on the receiving end of grace.

And Abraham and Sarah, equipped with their new names, continue their story in trust and faith, and in their old age, give birth to a son, Isaac. They continue to live into their promises as they journey through life.
As you consider this text during Lent, I invite you to consider your relationship with God. To consider the covenant between us and God.

Upon what does that relationship depend?

What are you doing to live into the relationship?

If God were to give you a new name, what might it be?

One name I invite you to try on in a new way this week, to see how it fits, is that of “Disciple”.

Our New Testament passage today is a pivotal passage for Mark’s gospel. Jesus has just asked his disciples “who do people say that I am?”

And then he asks them,  “who do you say that I am?”

And right after this passage, Jesus is transfigured on the mountainside, which we read last week. But before we can see the glory, Mark wants us to wrestle with questions of identity.

Who do you say that I am?

In response to the question, Peter gives the right answer. “You are the Messiah.”

So then Jesus begins to teach them some things. To make sure that everyone understands the word “messiah” the same way Jesus does.

There will be great suffering;
Rejection by the elders, chief priests and scribes;
He will be killed;
He will rise again from the dead three days later.

And in a gospel where Jesus spends a lot of time telling people to be quiet about what they’ve seen and heard, here he says these things quite openly.

There is no messianic secret here. Mark makes clear that if you want to know one thing about Jesus, it is that he must undergo great suffering, rejection by the authorities, death on a cross, and resurrection from the dead. The centerpiece of this gospel is this message right here.

And Peter, in a move that I silently applaud, rebukes Jesus. This word is the word used when Jesus rebukes unclean spirits, when Jesus rebukes the waves and the sea. And Peter rebukes Jesus. We, of course, know that it is the wrong thing to do. Silly Peter. Don’t rebuke Jesus. Remember? He’s the Messiah.

I am on the sidelines cheering Peter on, though. Because, really, is this the message anyone wants to hear? Do you know how long I wrestled with this text this week? I don’t want to preach this. I, like Peter, want Jesus to be a Messiah who will deliver us from the bad guys. I wonder what Peter said when he rebuked Jesus. “Let’s stop this nonsense of suffering and death, Jesus. We know enough about suffering. Let’s talk about power. Let’s talk about bringing back the throne of David. Let’s make people happy!”

But, of course, Jesus is having none of that. Peter should know that the man who rebukes the wind will have no trouble rebuking him. “Get behind me, Satan. For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Ouch.

And Jesus then goes on to describe how our preconceptions of divine things are all wrong. God will not be confined to human expectations or desires. “God is found in uncertainty, danger, and suffering…precisely where human wisdom perceives God’s absence.” (Joseph D Small, ibid, page 72)
And so those of us who want to become disciples, are supposed to take up our own crosses and follow him. It isn’t in the miracles we’re called to be like Jesus. He’s not expecting us to calm storms or cast out demons. He wants us to walk in his path. And his path is not one of glory, at least not by the world’s understanding. It is not one of success by the world’s understanding. It is not even a path of life by the world’s understanding. But it is on the path where we become disciples. The act of following Jesus is the education we need.

Being a follower of Jesus requires us to acknowledge that the world’s understanding of things is not how God understands the world. And, much like the covenant with Sarah and Abraham, this is good news for us. The things of this world that cause us so much pain and heartache will not ultimately prevail. Even death is conquered in the person of Jesus Christ.

Being a follower of Jesus requires something else of us as well.

If you’ll look at your Bibles, notice who Jesus talks to. When he rebukes Peter, he turns and looks at the disciples—“I may be talking to Peter right this very moment”, he seems to be saying, “but this could just have easily been you.” And then, when he tells his disciples about the cost of discipleship, he calls the crowd over. This is, more or less, the same crowd, the same herd, that’s been following Jesus wherever he goes. And miracles, healings and teachings draw big crowds.

But in this passage, Jesus tells the crowds that if any one of them want to follow him, they’ll have to pick up a cross and follow him. And crowds can’t carry a cross.

To be a disciple of Jesus, you can’t stay in the crowd. At some point, you have to step out of the anonymity of the crowd and pick up a cross. Not to suffer just so you can say you suffered, but to stand for something. To set your mind on divine things rather than human things. Being a Christian is not something you inherit from your parents. Being a disciple is a decision to turn toward God.

I look at the work that this congregation is doing in the community and know that many of you are already on this path. You are volunteering at the school and volunteering to help people at the homeless shelter pass their GED exams. You are marching for justice at the state house and seeking to make Idaho a place where everyone receives equal treatment under the law. Whether you are part of a house church, or volunteer your time with the PW or with other groups in the church or the community, you are living that path of discipleship.

And many of these actions have not been popular. They have not been easy. They have brought you trouble and inconvenience. Because once you step out of the crowd, once you start using your voice to speak for justice, then you can become a target.

Crowds are nameless and hard to criticize.

Individuals calling out for justice are easier to notice.

But that doesn’t mean we should stay in the crowd. Think about how much better our community is because of the work that you have done! Think about how many more people know of the love of God because of your work in the community and because of the risks you have been willing to take!

And sometimes you have stepped out of the crowd because your understanding of the gospel demanded it and there was no other choice. But sometimes I think we step out of the crowds because we are first pushed.  Not shoved. But gently nudged. I’ve seen you do it to each other.

Sometimes one of you will go first, inviting others to follow.

Sometimes you call out each other’s gifts, encouraging someone to use skills and talents they may not have noticed on their own.

Sometimes, you challenge each other, pushing each other to do more than “talk the talk”.

It is a privilege to watch you encourage and support each other.

Abraham and Sarah were called out of the crowd. Their willingness to follow God down an unknown path into a new future allowed them to live into the promises God had made for them.

The disciples had already been called out of the crowd to follow Jesus. But from here on out, they will come to understand what Jesus is requiring of them. They will take the gospel to the corners of the known world, so that today we can talk about Jesus 2,000 years later.

This week, I invite you to consider if and how you are being called to leave the crowd and live further into discipleship.  We are continuing on this Lenten journey together as a community.

But becoming a disciple and picking up a cross and following Jesus is not something that the community or a crowd can do for you, even with gentle nudging.

But what the community can do is to walk alongside you, giving you support on the journey. I am thankful for the ways we, together, are there for each other, so that when Jesus calls us out of the crowd, we can gently nudge each other to answer the call. Amen.

1 comment | posted in discipleship, Genesis 17:1-7, Lenten preparation, Mark 8:31-38

March 22, 2009

Snakes on a Plain

By marciglass

Numbers 21:4-9
John 3:14-21

A Sermon preached at Southminster
March 22, 2009

I wonder if any of you have ophidiophobia? If so, you join 36 percent of Americans who claim that the number one thing of which they are afraid is….
snakes.

But snakes are also used as signs of healing such as in the caduceus, which is often used by medical practitioners to signify healing.

Or in the Staff of Asclepius. Asclepius was the Greek God of medicine, and was said to have brought people back from the dead, which got him in trouble with the other Gods.

Snakes are also symbols of power and immortality, think of the headdress worn by Pharaoh.

So, apparently the fear of snakes goes waaaay back. Because in our Old Testament reading this morning from the Book of Numbers, snakes are used to great effect. This passage is the last, the final time, the Israelites complain in the wilderness. We’ve heard their complaints before. They complain about the bitter water (Exodus 15), about the lack of food (Exodus 16). They complain about being thirsty (Exodus 17). They complain about manna and wish they had meat (Numbers 11). And they complain about the prospect of invading Canaan (Numbers 14). But this time, they appear to have gone too far, even for a gracious God, one who is slow to anger and quick to show mercy. Because this time, they complain against God.

And God sends snakes, real snakes. And these snakes kill people. I’d like to find some way to tame this passage down, to make it less scary than this picture, but I can’t.

This story should be scary. I don’t think it is a coincidence that God uses the animal that scares us most to scare us straight. And it seems to work for the Hebrew people as. They repent and beg Moses, asking him to intercede on their behalf to their God, against whom they had sinned. And let’s be clear about their sin. What got them in so much trouble was not that they lifted up their disappointments to God. It is that they didn’t trust God. “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness?”, they complained. They didn’t believe in God’s promises of LIFE. The whole wilderness experience for the Hebrew people wasn’t about getting the people to believe certain beliefs or doctrines about God. It was about getting them to trust that God would lead them to life in a new land, as God had promised.
Trusting in the promises of God. It seems like that should be so easy, doesn’t it? Yet, we live our lives as if we trust in anything but God. We trust in ourselves. We trust in money. We trust in country—even though our country’s motto is “In God we Trust”.
Where do you place your trust instead of in God?

The implications of this are huge for us as community. Because if we don’t trust God, who created us and loves us, how can we trust our neighbors?

So, the killer serpents, or snakes on a plain, as it were, lead the people to repentance.

And then the weird story gets weirder. God hears Moses entreaties on behalf of the people and commands Moses to “make a poisonous serpent and set it on a pole and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.”
I don’t know how many of you remember the 10 Commandments, but number one is to have no other Gods and number two is “you shall not make for yourself an idol”.

Here is reason 391 that God never appointed me to be Moses, because if God told me to fashion a bronze serpent, I would likely have reminded God of those first two commandments. “Two words, God: golden calf. Remember how well that worked?”

Luckily for the Hebrew people, Moses obeyed God and made a serpent of bronze and put it on a pole. And whenever a serpent bit someone, the person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.

Notice that God did not just get rid of the snakes. The dangers of the world were still there with them. But God took a symbol of fear and death and turned it into a symbol of life. Once the people have repented of their sin and turned again to trust in God, the thing that had been killing them becomes the thing that saves them.

And it worked very well, by all accounts, for years and years. Because centuries later, when King Hezekiah is leading reforms and cleaning out the Temple, around 700 BCE, listen to what he does, as recorded in 2 Kings 18:4. “He broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the people of Israel had made offerings to it; it was called Nehushtan.”

So the chronicler of Hezekiah is making this report to let us know about what a good King Hezekiah was, but what I find interesting about this passage is that it shows that not only did Moses make this serpent, but that it worked, because people were still praying to it centuries later. If the people believed that the bronze serpent, and not God, was the agent of their healing, then Hezekiah was right to destroy it. Whenever we mistake the signs and symbols for God, and we begin to worship the signs and symbols, instead of God, then we have made idols. Take the sign and symbol of the Bible. Sometimes people seem to take the Bible so literally, it appears they are worshipping the book instead of the God who is revealed in the book. Or people turn church leaders or church doctrine into idols. One magazine, when describing a church talked about two competing forces that had been at work in that church over the years—the doctrine of love and the love of doctrine.

So, we’re reminded not to turn the snakes, or anything else, into idols.
One of my favorite preachers, Barbara Brown Taylor, asks this question about the snakes: “What is God capable of doing with those idols, once they have been plucked out from under our feet and set up on a pole where we can see them clearly? How does God respond to our fear, both in the wilderness, and at the foot of the cross?” (Barbara Brown Taylor in Feasting on the Word, Year B, Vol 2, (Westminster John Knox, Louisville, 2008)page 103).

And so we move toward the story in John’s gospel, where the connection is made between Moses lifting up the serpent in the wilderness to bring life from death, to the person of Jesus, who is lifted up on a cross to bring eternal life from death.
Here is an artist’s combination of the two stories, with Moses’ bronze serpent being lifted up on the cross of Christ.

And even though this reference to the Numbers text is universally overlooked in favor of the next verse—“for God so loved the world….”, it is worth spending some time on the connection before moving on to 3:16.

John’s gospel has some different themes, or different emphases, perhaps, then do the other gospels. One of them is the theme of being “lifted up”. Jesus often refers to the Son of Man being lifted up. On one level, he’s referring to the cross event, of his literally being lifted up onto a cross. On another level, it means being lifted up as being exalted, a sign of God’s glory, of death being turned into life. And there’s also the sense of his being lifted up to heaven.
But just as the Hebrew people can’t be saved from the danger of the snakes—remember God doesn’t take the snakes away—so too we cannot be saved without the humiliation of the cross. There is no exaltation without the crucifixion in John’s gospel.

So this passage from Numbers is brought in to reinforce for John’s community how God, in the past, had lifted up something to bring life to God’s people. What God did through Moses lifting up the bronze serpent in the wilderness is just an opening act, compared to what God did by lifting up Jesus. Because in the lifting up, in the exaltation of Jesus, our death will be turned to life.

“Whoever believes in him may have eternal life. For God so loved the world, that God gave the only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

John’s gospel, and this passage in particular, is often used to argue that our salvation largely rests on our choice. On our decision to choose Jesus. And that is a part of this passage. There is a sense in John’s gospel that we do need to respond to the truth that “God so loved the world that God gave the only son”.

But our response to the grace that has saved us shouldn’t diminish the gift. The exaltation of Christ on the cross that turns into the glory of the resurrection should not be reduced to only being something in our possession. God didn’t so love just us. God so loved the WORLD. “Indeed”, we’re told in verse 17, “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

So, we leave it to God to figure out how that saving works. And we get busy, after we decide to follow him, creating a community where God’s love is abundant and available for all.
In the next weeks and months, be looking for ways to participate in this community. On April 4th, we’ll be going to “meet the neighbors” again, letting our neighbors know that we want to be here for them and inviting them to join us. I hope you’ll come join us for that.

And today we’re commissioning Randy Marshall as a Commissioned Lay Pastor. He will be the Coordinator for Social Justice Ministries here, and will be inviting us to participate in all sorts of new things, largely focused around care of creation. And we’re adding to Carol Brunlinger’s job description as well, so be looking for more information about how to join in ministry with her in the months to come.

One thing that all of us can do to create a community where God’s love is available for all is in the welcoming presence we provide. As new people join us, it is nice to see you introducing yourselves to them. And I invite you to be on the lookout for visitors, introducing them to others, helping them figure out where the Coffee Fellowship is located, inviting them to participate in the life of the community. Even parking in the school lot to leave room in our lot for visitors is a way of making this community more welcoming.

We are mid way through this Lenten journey. As we continue this journey to the cross, to our salvation, to the transformation of death into life, let us look to share God’s abundant love with the whole world. Amen.

3 comments | posted in idols, John 3:14-21, Lenten preparation, Numbers 21:4-9, snakes on a plain

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