We began our Lenten journey with Jesus in the baptismal waters of the Jordan, where, through his actions, he taught us that we need to be divinely empowered to withstand the things that we will encounter in the wilderness. The wilderness is not an easy place to be. It is that place which confronts us with our need to rely on the grace of God rather than our own strength, or we don't make it through unscathed.

Today's gospel text takes us back to a strange moment for the Israelites in their wilderness with Moses. You will remember that, in the story, the people were desperately hungry, and they cried out to God for food. And God sent food, in the form of manna, from Heaven. Which was great! It hit the spot! But, eventually, they got sick of it. They got impatient with this whole “journey to the Promised Land.” And they started complaining about how good things were back in Egypt, in spite of the slavery. At least they could have a burger every once in a while, instead of this miserable manna, day after day. And their heads start hanging low, and their attitudes start getting very dark and adversarial. Evil was overtaking their hearts and minds, but they didn't realize it. And so, to help them realize the dangers of falling prey to those destructive inner thoughts and intentions, God sends a destructive outer sign into their midst, a pack of poisonous snakes, and several of the Israelites get bitten and die. The snakes symbolized the harmful thoughts and intentions that we see were already there, already biting into them, already filling their hearts and minds with venom. They had already gotten themselves into a spiritual snake-pit... by stewing in their own venomous juices; they just hadn't realized that anything harmful was going on.... until God sends the visible snakes.

And then Moses, like a good pastor, intercedes on their behalf to God. But God won't call off the poisonous snakes. Instead, God tells Moses to sculpt a beautiful brass image of a snake – the very thing that was causing them pain and suffering and death – and to attach it to a pole, and to hold it high up in the air, where everyone could see it. And, then, when any of the Israelites got bitten by these snakes, Moses was to have them lift up their eyes and look at the brass serpent, and it would work like an antidote to the poison; so that they would be healed.

And so God is giving them a powerful symbol of salvation to teach them, and us: When we're in the wilderness, with temptation to the left us, temptation to the right of us, and harmful thoughts and intentions start to arise and to afflict our hearts and minds... what should we do? 1^st We don't want to ignore them....or pretend they're not there. We want to take them very seriously... because they're like poisonous snakes... they will indeed bite into us... and fill us with their venom in no time.. So we can't ignore them. And 2^nd we don't want to go down on the ground and fight them on their level. It's a funny thing about snakes: if you go after them head on like that, they don't run away; they go right for the juggler, and all of their snake friends seem to appear out of nowhere to join in the attack. There is a 3^rd way, that neither ignores them, nor fights them on their own level. And this 3^rd way is the way that God instructs Moses to help the Israelites.

God tells Moses to form a serpent out of brass and to put it on a pole and hold it up in the air and have anyone who is bitten to lift there eyes up to look at it... OK. But what does that mean? Well perhaps it means something like this: “When stressful situations bring out those snakey, destructive thoughts and feelings that start afflicting your heart and mind... this is one of those situations where we can't rely on our own strength; we need divine wisdom to make it through unscathed. So whether those harmful thoughts and feelings are our own, or those of people around us, don't ignore them; do pay attention to them; but don't engage them on their own level.... don't try to attack them. That only increases their determination to harm. Instead, without taking your eye off of them, within your heart and mind, turn heavenward... and let the Divine light of God shine in on those harmful thoughts and intentions... and see what happens. As they get bathed in that divine light, they lose their power; it's as if they turn to brass and, instead of harming us, they become sacred symbols of God's healing power. What once was poisonous gets transformed into a powerful medicine that heals our souls. Simply stated, it's a miracle.

In last week's gospel, Jesus identified himself with the Temple, saying that his own person was the sacred space in which God would dwell among his people. Sacred space becomes a very personal space that is loving and just, friendly and awesome.... at the same time.

In this week's gospel, Jesus identifies himself with the brass serpent on the pole in the wilderness. And so we come to see how the story about the Israelites getting healed in the wilderness is a kind of parable of how Jesus' life, and death, and life beyond death is going to impact the world. In an event which, in itself, is horrifically evil – the crucifixion – Christ will gather up all of the toxins in the hearts of humanity into himself, and in one perfect sacrifice of love transform them into a sacred medicine. So that his Cross becomes the ultimate place of healing for humanity. In the Cross, in the Christ, we find a way of being with our frustrations and our pain that is truly redemptive instead of truly destructive.

Now we might say, “Wait just a minute there... I'm a Christian, but I still have plenty of pain and poison in my heart... plenty of snakey thoughts and intentions swirling through my mind from time to time. If Christ takes them all and transforms them into something helpful and holy, then why are they still there hissing and nipping at me?” The problem is that when we hear this popular gospel text:

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who trusts

in him will not perish but will have eternal life, God's life, coursing through his or her soul.

...we sometimes imagine that what it's describing is a kind of magic pill, rather than a way of life that we live one day at a time. Trusting in Christ; Turning our hearts and minds toward Christ; Opening up our darkness to Christ's light; Feeding on him in our hearts; These are practices that we do not just once and then forget about it. They're a day-by-day, hour-by-hour, moment-by-moment way of life.

Again and again, we open our hearts and minds to his love, and, again and again, we are transformed, bit...by....bit, into his likeness. It's a lifelong journey, not a magic pill.

Jesus is always calling us to be close to him, even now. He is always saying: “COME unto me all you who are weary are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” ….. “And bring all your snakes!” Because isn't it so often the case that it is those poisonous snakes of resentment and jealousy and greed and bitterness – just to name a few – that weigh us down like heavy burdens until, like the Israelites, we're just barely slithering along on the spiritual journey?

You know how, when we encounter a person who resembles Jesus in his or her thoughts and intentions and actions – someone who is genuinely kind and generous, courageous and humble – we naturally admire them, and wish that we were more like them ourselves. It's good to remember, though, that gracious persons like that didn't get that way over night. And to get to that point, they had to be very good stewards of the snakes that they encountered in the wilderness. They had to have kept their eye on those snakes, not tried to fight them on their own level, but turned to God and let God's Light enter their hearts and minds and transform them. We usually only think of being stewards of good things. But, actually, we have to be good stewards of everything. Even the snakes of the world belong to God. Even the pain and the poisons within us belong to God. It's not like they're ours, to hold onto or to “act out” however we may feel like it at the moment. They belong to God. And, since God is the only one who can really deal with our deepest problems and pains and poisons in a way that is redemptive and healing, why not give them to God? Why not bring all of our inner poisons to Christ the moment we become aware of them, and let him turn them into medicine?

Now you'll notice that I've been encouraging you to bring your snakes to Jesus, and not to me! But actually, you can also bring them to me if you want. Not that I can do anything about them myself! But I can help point you to the One who can and will. When we entrust our inner burdens, and ourselves, to God's care.... we find the refreshing peace of Christ. We find the promised rest. And somehow, as we rest in him, and feed on him in our hearts, he transforms all of those burdens that we bring to him... and cultivates in their place a beautiful human character, one which, more and more, bit by bit, comes to resemble Jesus. Thanks be to God.

Lent IV, 2012

Christ Church (Glanworth) & Trinity (Lambeth) Anglican Church of Canada.