Ephesians
2.1-10
John
3.14-21
What bites you, cures
you. Not, perhaps, the best advice for a hangover – not drinking quite so much
in the first place is far better than the “hair of the dog that bit you”.
But there is wisdom here,
nonetheless. Many ancient cultures recognised this as a medical principle. What
bites you, cures you. A small dose cures what would harm you in large amounts.
If you had the flu jab this winter that is what was going on: a harmless dose
of virus immunises you against the full thing.
Today, in the Book of
Numbers, the Israelites are bitten by poisonous serpents, but they look at an
image of a serpent on a staff and live.
This symbol is not
confined to ancient Israel. The serpent raised up on a staff is very ancient, and
found in many cultures. It is the badge of the Greek god of healing,
Aesculapius, and is still seen, for example, on the flag of the World Health
Organisation. Snake bite kills you, but there is something powerfully curative
there as well. It is a holistic symbol: opposites are at war within, but
reconciling them brings harmony.
In the Book of Numbers,
too, contradictions are resolved. God sends poisonous serpents, but then
provides the means for curing their bite. It seems as though God is acting in
opposite ways, but we are to see beyond the opposites. The Israelites have
turned away from God in rebellion: the bite of the serpents punishes but also
corrects, bringing them back to God. What is really wrong with them is their
alienation from God, of which the serpents are a visible sign. And God provides
the means of overcoming their alienation, in the form of a visible sign. What
bites you, cures you.
It’s significant, then,
that Jesus chooses this episode to illustrate himself. Jesus said to Nicodemus,
‘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’.
Jesus is the cure for the
bite of the poisonous serpent, the devil who brings death. But somehow his
being lifted up also shows us what the problem is.
The problem is the
culture of death that, one way or another, puts people on crosses. Jesus was
killed by religious people, the powers that be, who thought that he threatened
them. He became a scapegoat, an expendable person, as summed up by Caiaphas, in
John Chapter 11: “it is better for you to have one man die for the people than
to have the whole nation destroyed”. The death of Jesus was the small dose of
violence, inflicted on an outsider, in an attempt to save the group from the
greater violence that would destroy them.
That’s how human beings tend
to function. But we’ve got it all wrong. The fundamental human problem is that
we turn away from the God of life towards death. This is what we call sin. At
the root of it is our disordered desire, as we saw last week in the ten
commandments. Instead of desiring God, who gives us life without limit, we desire
what other people have got, and think we have to take it. There may not be
enough life to go round, so grab it while you can, and make sure other people
don’t. This is the snake that bites us, the poison that torments us. One way or
another, all sin comes down to this: failing to believe that God really gives
life without limit.
God gives, that’s the
key. We don’t have to take. We can’t. This is what Paul means in Ephesians
today when he says “by grace you have been saved”. Grace is gift, freely given,
not earned, not merited. Just because that is what God is like. God gives. “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.”
God gives us himself,
showing us his love. God gives us the man on the cross, who shows us what we
are, what we have been. This is the snake that bites you, this putting people
on crosses, and all that it represents. But this is also what cures you,
because it is God’s love in the very place where we seek death. We have turned
away from God to cast out the scapegoat, and, lo!, the scapegoat is God, turned
towards us. Loving us. Desiring us. Unmerited, unearned. Redemption, salvation,
the cure of sin, the gift of eternal life.
Eternal life is the life
that God lives. Eternal life is not this passing life, carried on indefinitely.
It is something other, the life of God, who is outside of time. It is life
without limit. This passing life is limited, and we know what that is like. Eternal
life, God’s life, is outside our experience. It has to be given to us from
beyond. We have to be “born again” or “born from above”, as Jesus says to
Nicodemus.
And this is grace, gift,
freely given. To receive it, we simply have to turn to Jesus and believe in
him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; they will do what is true, and
come to the light.
Grace is so simple. And
yet it seems so difficult! It seems too good to be true! Even Christians
struggle to believe it. Does God really just give us all we need, even God’s
own life, eternal life? Just because that’s what God is like?
Yes, God does. But we try
to resist. Our old human nature keeps telling us that there has got to be a
catch. Yes, grace, but. But we’ve
still got to earn God’s favour somehow. God can’t really be that good.
“I don’t receive
communion, I’m not good enough.” “I must try harder, I don’t want to let God
down.” “Maybe if I say more prayers God will notice me.” All these things have
been said, to me, by Christians. And I dare say there is something similar
whispering such things inside of me, too. It takes a lifetime, really, to get
used to the fact that God means what God says.
“I’m not good enough.”
That has nothing to do with it. What matters is that Jesus is good enough.
Receive, then, the gift that he longs to give you.
“I don’t want to let God
down.” God, as St Paul says today, “loved us even when we were dead through our
trespasses, [and] made us alive together with Christ”. Now it’s obvious that dead
people can’t earn anything, least of all their own resurrection. That is what
grace is. As freely given as resurrection given to the dead. Why do we suppose
that grace is some kind of bargain, as if God could possibly need anything from
us in return?
And, trying to make God
notice us. Look at the cross. God has noticed us.
What bites you, cures
you. Opposites are at war within us: sin and death; God and life. The poisonous
bite of sin should make us look to Jesus, who shows us both the problem and its
cure.
God loves us. For no
reason at all, except that that is what God is like. God raised us to life when
we were dead in our sins, utterly helpless. As sheer gift. Because that is what
God is like. It is Jesus, lifted up on the cross, who shows us this. It is
Jesus who cures us. That is the heart of the Gospel. Believe in Jesus, accept
the free gift of grace, and live. And, as we tend to pinch ourselves, and think
that this can’t really quite be true, it does no harm to hear and proclaim that
message again, and again.
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