Sermon by Rev Sydney Maitland for Sunday 10 March 2024.
• First Reading: Numbers 21: 4-9 (Israelites murmured against God and Moses – snakes sent among them)
• Epistle: Ephesians 2: 1-10 (God made us alive in Christ when we were dead in transgressions – by grace you were saved. Saved by grace, not works so that no one can boast)
• Gospel: John 3: 14-21 (As Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man shall be lifted up that everyone who believes may have eternal life in Him)
We all have life and breath, and which can never be earned: they can only be received. They were given us by God who created the process by which life is transmitted from generation to generation, and by our mothers who carried us from conception to birth.
And then they cared for us, fed, clothed, and protected us. We learned our first words from them, and they watched us grow until it was time to leave home.
And then they let us go into whatever life was going to hold for us.
And yes, we are thankful for what we take for granted: life, bodies, minds. The air we breathe, minds to think and personalities to form relationships with others.
And, again, God has given us these things, both through our mothers and through the creation into which we have been born.
Part of the mystery is ‘Mother Church’ which also nurtures us in faith and in our relationships with God in Jesus Christ, and with one another. It also is rarely thanked, more often taken for granted. Regularly abused. Often persecuted. Always mocked.
Part of the mystery is that it is all in the gift of God: in His act of creation in establishing a self-sustaining world to transmit and to nurture life.
It is also there in His provision for our daily relationship with Him – in our salvation in Jesus, and in the Holy Spirit who keeps us close to Jesus, and who makes Him real and accessible to us, day by day.
And again, none of this is earned. It is only received – and can only be received as God gives it to us. We cannot contrive it, and we certainly cannot bring ourselves near to God except by His intention and self-giving.
And so in the Exodus, when the tribes of Israel were being rebuked for murmuring against God, they were also given the means of life: they only had to look at the image of the snake on a pole and they would recover.
But they had to buy into this: they had to make even that minimal effort to look at the snake. No amount of self-will or positive thinking was going to do it.
God had provided a means of life, yet it was one that even here looked for a direct and personal response.
Speaking to Nicodemus, Jesus also referred to the snake on the pole in the desert. It was a pointer to what God would do for the salvation of the Nation of Israel and for the whole human race.
For there were two aspects: Jesus would become that snake, taking to Himself every dimension and every expression of that human rejection of God and of its own self-will. Every nuance and refinement would be there – and Jesus would not just take the blame for it – He would become it as well.
And again all people would have to do was to look to Jesus, crucified and dying and from the depths of their souls, to ask.
This was and is the extremity and the extravagance of God’s love for His people. There is nothing sentimental about it – it is utterly aware of the whole human rejection of God, and shown from the smallest snide or sarcastic remark to the grossest genocide.
It was and is, as we say, a wholly intentional love. No evasions, no cover-ups, no euphemisms or politically-correct turns of phrase.
For God never wanted any part of the fall of humanity from His love and grace. His desire was and is to recover and restore that fulness of intimacy with all people who will turn to Him.
And He has done everything needed to make it possible.
In our generation, as in every generation since the resurrection of Jesus, it now lies with us to receive that love and mercy of God as He gives it.
It means getting real with Him and with ourselves as we find ourselves in Him and not apart from Him.
If the work of salvation and of looking to Him is the task of a moment, then the work of letting it sink into the deepest parts of our lives, into every memory and relationship, every crevice and the most hidden and intimate parts – is the work of a lifetime.
This is the work of the Holy Spirit who draws us close to Jesus and who makes Him ever more real within us.
If coming into our salvation is akin to that moment of conception then the task of growing into Him is the nurturing work of the rest of our lives.
It never ends – and just as the toddler’s first steps are the first of many – up mountains and across battlefields, into homes and shops, offices and factories.
This also is the ongoing work whereby Jesus is drawing us into that fellowship and intimacy which God always wanted for us – as we find ourselves by looking to Him and as He leads us into those dimensions of His love which we never even imagined.