Sermon: 4th Sunday in Lent
14 March 2021 –
Archdeacon Mark Long
Numbers 21:4-9;
Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22; and John 3:14-21; NRSV
Welcome to this 4th Sunday in Lent, which is also Mothering Sunday – and for those joining us from the UK, their Mothers’ Day celebration. Importantly for us in the context of our worship it is yet another touchstone on our Lenten journey, one that asks us to look upon the cross and ask, “What is it we believe?” It is a question asked in the context of a conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, one we enter half way through this morning. It may be helpful to recognise that although this conversation is with Nicodemus it has broader application, especially in the context of rebirth (the use of the word “you” is plural[1]; an invitation perhaps for us to participate in the conversation?). We enter the conversation as Jesus speaks to Nicodemus of the necessity for the Son of Man to be lifted up in order for the eternal nature of life to be offered to those who believe.[2] The reference here is distinctly to the cross, although this early in John’s Gospel narrative the implications are unlikely to have been clear to Nicodemus. Today, as this passage invites us to look at the cross, what is it that we believe?
Our Lent course has helped us reflect on this question over the past three weeks as we have engaged with Rowan William’s[3] thinking and have been challenged to engage with what we believe, to see the Cross in a fresh light, and to see in the cross the victory alongside the sacrifice; and in the next couple of weeks to reflect on what this victory over death and evil looks like in the context of resurrection two millennia ago, and in our own time. Ultimately it is not about seeing the cross, it’s about seeing Jesus, and seeing the love of God active not only on the cross, but in the fullness of Jesus’ life and ministry and in his resurrection and ascension; and allowing what we believe to actively impact the course of our own lives: our attitudes and actions; our values and our legacy.
As we hear the opening words of today’s Gospel our minds are drawn to an occasion in the book of Numbers[4] (a memory helped by having just a heard it as our Old Testament reading today). The broader narrative context is that the Israelites have just won their first major victory over the Canaanites in the form of the king of Arad who controlled part of the Negev dessert south of the Promised Land. The mention of Mount Hor suggests a possible earlier narrative inserted at his point, but its placement here points to the Israelites’ fickleness, that despite a great God-given victory they are dissatisfied, and while this dissatisfaction is aimed at God and at Moses it quickly becomes clear that it fact they are bored with the daily provision of dessert manna (not surprisingly, perhaps) and desire a more varied diet. The detail of their complaint is less important than the “… narrative arc: sinful behaviour, followed by a negative divine response, then repentance, and finally, divine restoration.”[5] The divine response, the poisonous snakes whose bite kills, become the source of divine restoration when an image of a poisonous snake is raised up on a pole. The connection John is wanting his listeners to make is that the “… physical gift of healing in Numbers is transformed into the spiritual gift of salvation … .”[6]
We all too easily use phrases like eternal life and the spiritual gift of salvation (or just salvation), but what do we mean by them? In the context of the earlier part of Jesus conversation with Nicodemus Jesus speaks of rebirth,[7] and so I suggest when we speak of eternal life and salvation we are speaking of our awakening to the core of our humanity, that aspect that carries the image of God, and that when awoken enables us to reach beyond the brokenness of our humanity and increasingly embrace the love that is God. By gazing upon the cross and recognising it as a symbol of the very worst of our humanity, slowly awakening to the sacrifice of obedience that Jesus death on the cross is, then recognising the victory of love that the cross represents, we are healed as our brokenness is transformed by love. The cross, rather than being a reminder of the worst of our humanity is transformed into a symbol of the best of who we are when awake to love, forgiveness and freedom.[8] In this context 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”, a verse much quoted on its own (and a part of today’s Gospel reading), begins to make some sense. The sacrifice is not substitutional, but a gift of obedience. In Rowan Williams’ words:
“Obedience is not springing to
attention and hastily doing what you are ordered. Obedience is a harmony of
response to God so that God sees in the world a reflection of his own life …
his selfless love reflected, … his beauty mirrored back to him … .
“In Jesus there is the divine
action of love mirrored back to God through the medium of human life. … Our
language about sacrifice has shown us a God who is giving and receiving and
responding, … a God who is himself relationship.
“… it’s not about what I am
doing here, but about what God is doing. … It is God’s act outside us, not up
to us; something that God has accomplished.”[9]
I return to our touchstone for today: as we gaze on the cross, what is it that we believe? And how is our belief transforming our lives and our lived actions? How are our lives mirroring God’s beauty back to God?
You poked and prodded people around you.
In our lives — tired and under demand as they are in
Because this is the water of life. You
Amen[10]
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