Snakes on a Pole

A sermon by Rachel Twigg on Psalm 121 and John 3:1-17

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable and pleasing in your sight O God, for you are our rock and our redeemer. Amen.

In my former church, there was a woman who slept through every sermon I ever preached. Every single one. That same woman would shake my hand and thank me for the sermon after every service.

She may have been legitimately grateful for the best sleep she had all week, I’m not sure, but what I am sure of is that if she had ever stayed awake long enough to look up while I was preaching, she might have realized that we could see each other. She might have realized that I could see she was sleeping.

But I don’t think she ever did look up. Every Sunday she looked down and fell asleep. And every Sunday she shook my hand and thanked me for the sermon.

It can be hard to concentrate in church, even the best churches. It can be hard to pay attention to everything that is being said, especially when the lectionary gives us a really long readings, like it has today.

It can be hard to catch everything that was said.

In our first reading from Psalm 121, the author of the psalm is in need of help. The help is available, the question is, will the psalmist notice it?

The psalm isn’t suspenseful, the question is actually answered in the first two lines, “I lift up my eyes to the hills—from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”

The psalmist chooses to stop looking down, lift up their eyes, and in doing so they are able to see not only that help is available, but the source of that help as well.

If they had chosen to keep looking down, they might have missed it entirely.

Jesus says a lot of weird things in today’s gospel reading, but one of the weirdest is this, “And 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.”(14-15)

What we focus on determines both what we see, and what we miss.

Excuse me Jesus, what was that you just said about Moses handling snakes? When exactly did Moses lift up a snake?

He did it a couple of times actually. One time God turned Moses’ walking stick into a snake and then back into a stick again, but that’s not the story Jesus is referencing here.

Jesus is referencing a story found in Numbers. (Numbers 21: 1-9) Moses and the Israelites are wandering in the desert and scripture tells us they, “became impatient on the way.”

And in their impatience they begin to complain, blaming both God and Moses for their unfortunate situation saying, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.”

So which is it? Is there no food and no water, or there IS food and water, they just didn’t like it? It can’t be both.

But people who are in the mood to complain rarely spend time checking if their complaints are logical and they really dislike in when you try to.

The people also know the answer to the question, “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt?” It’s because they were slaves in Egypt and they wanted to leave.

It’s comforting to me, actually, to know that human beings have been this short sighted and self-centered since the very beginning. How easy it is for all of us to trade gratitude for self pity.

And we should all be grateful that, at least to the best of my knowledge, God has never responded to anyone in this room who was complaining in the same way he responded to the people in this story.

Because in this story, God doesn’t counter their complaining with logic, pointing out that it’s impossible to have no food AND food you don’t like at the same time OR reminding them about how much they hated being slaves and how long and how loudly they had begged to be set free.

No, God doesn’t talk to them at all, instead God sends poisonous snakes whose bite will kill them.

And guess what happens? The people quickly stop complaining, realize that they have made a serious mistake and say to Moses, “We have sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you, pray to the Lord to take away the serpents from us.” (6)

But God doesn’t get rid of the snakes, instead God tells Moses to make a statute of a snake out of bronze. God then tells him to put the snake on a pole and put it where the people can see it. Anyone who has been bitten only needs to look at the snake on the pole and they will live.

Huh.

Well that’s certainly one way to handle the situation. Not one I would have thought of, but it seems to have worked.

It’s a bizarre story, but as I’ve been mulling it over in preparation for this sermon, it occurred to me just how hard I would find it if there were literal poisonous snakes slithering around my feet to focus on anything other than the snakes. Even if I knew looking up would save me, I’m not sure I would do it.

Because snakes are terrifying.

At best my eyes would dart up and down from the snakes on the ground to the snake on the pole and back to the snakes on the ground again.

Which honestly reflects how I treat a lot of things that I intellectually know are good for me, like drinking enough water and filing my taxes on time. I know they’re good for me, I know I’ll be grateful in the long run, I still don’t do them.

Two fun facts before we go any further: The modern symbol for medicine includes a snake wrapped around a pole, and we reference this story from Numbers, and several other similar stories, every year in our Good Friday liturgy. In that liturgy, the things the people were complaining about – wandering in the desert, the quality of the food – become reasons to crucify Jesus.

In that liturgy we pray through a series of questions and answers that includes:

O my people, what have I done to you, or in what have I offended you? Answer me.

Because you led us out of the land of bondage. We have prepared a cross for our Saviour.

And then a little later: Because you led us out through the desert forty years, and fed us with manna, and brought us into a very good land, we have prepared a cross for our Saviour.

What you focus on determines what you see, and what you miss.

The Israelites became so focused on their grumbling that they missed the good things they had. Things were tough, but they were no longer slaves. Manna every day may feel repetitive, but they always had enough to eat.

Not only did they forget how good they had it, they forgot that things could get worse. An infestation of poisonous snakes kind of worse.

I wonder how many Israelites remained so focused on the snakes, that they neglected to look up long enough to see the snake on the pole and be healed?

I wonder how often we do the same? How often do we get so focused on the particular story we have chosen to tell about our lives, about our circumstances, that we don’t realize that there may be another, better way to look at things.

And I don’t mean this in some kind of naïve fairy tale kind of way, if you are surrounded by poisonous snakes the last thing you need to hear is “look on the bright side, they could be poisonous alligators” but if you are surrounded by both poisonous snakes and an actual cure, you want to make sure you notice the cure.

What we focus on determines what we see, and what we miss.

The psalmist needed to look up, past their own pain and struggles, to the hills where help was available. The Israelites need to have the courage to stop looking at the snakes at their feet and look up to the snake on the pole to be healed, and Jesus is also telling us that we need to look up.

In our gospel reading, one of the things Jesus says to Nicodemus is, “And 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. (14)

Jesus is using this historical reference, one Nicodemus would have been familiar with, to talk about his own death. He is comparing himself to a snake on a pole.

He is saying that his body will be put on a cross and lifted above the earth. And he is saying that this is all part of God’s plan to redeem the world.

Jesus follows this comparison with what has perhaps become the most famous verse in the entire Bible, John 3:16:

“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.”

It’s utterly bizarre to me but even people who don’t know what the verse says, know its address from having seen it on signs at concerts and sporting events.

I think it’s probably the first verse I was encouraged to memorize as a child, and I was told that I should memorize it because it summarized Jesus’ entire message.

And I believed that, and I memorized it.

But if Jesus’ entire message could be summed up in one single verse, why do we need the rest of the Bible?

Because it doesn’t sum up his entire message. In fact, all you need to do is read one additional verse in John’s gospel, the very next verse, John 3:17 and you will realize that if all you do is focus on John 3:16, you miss the important point being made by Jesus in John 3:17:

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

Without this verse it is all too easy to turn John 3:16 into a verse that suggests that God’s plan was to condemn the world, but he also created an individualistic escape clause in Jesus. And that’s what way too many people have come to believe.

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

What you focus on determines what you see, and what you miss.

Lent is a season that encourages us to shift our focus and see things differently.

What are you noticing as you move through this season? Are the things you’ve chosen to give up or take on helping you to see things in a different way? Pay attention to the shifts, especially the subtle ones.

In addition to being the second Sunday in Lent, and the day we all struggle with the time change, today is also International Women’s Day, a day that invites us to pay attention to women, to their achievements and their struggles in a particular way.

Achievements and struggles that have, for far too long, gone unnoticed. It’s an all too common thing for women to feel invisible in their homes, in their workplaces, and in their churches.

I’m hopeful though that this is going to change – perhaps too slowly for my liking – but it is going to change. When a friend’s daughter discovered this was International Women’s Day she said, “what do you mean Women’s Day? Shouldn’t we get half the days?”

I know what it is like to feel invisible, and to feel seen in the church. I like one infinitely better than the other. It is my hope that we all will work to see each other and to always ask the questions: Who is missing? How can we learn to see them too?

May it be so.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.