Numbers 21:4-9 and John 3:13-17
It’s wonderful to be with you and to have the privilege of preaching on Holy Cross Day. I arrived in Durham over the summer, to begin an exciting new ministry as Director of the Cuthbert Centre for Pilgrimage and Prayer. Of course, the Cuthbert Centre will be located around the Chapel of the Holy Cross – and so today’s theme seems entirely fitting for my first sermon here at the Cathedral.
'A Serpent of Bronze and the Son of Man: Jesus in conversation with Nicodemus'
Today we have two highly engaging passages to explore together. We’re going to consider both and then reflect on the depth of meaning found in the Gospel encounter between Jesus and Nicodemus. It’s an encounter in which Nicodemus is faced with a message and a person that challenges his previous understanding.
So, come back with me if you will, to this amazing encounter in John’s Gospel…
Nicodemus’ visit to see Jesus, conducted under the cover of darkness, follows John’s account of the controversy of Jesus cleansing the Temple in Jerusalem, in the lead up to the Jewish festival of Passover. In today’s reading we join the conversation and so it’s helpful to just remind ourselves about what’s already been said. In headlines, Nicodemus has acknowledged that Jesus’ teaching and miraculous signs are indicators that he had ‘come from God’ (John 3:2). However, Nicodemus has also struggled to comprehend Jesus’ meaning about the need to be reborn of the Spirit. This leads Jesus to question ‘Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?’ (John 3:10). And it’s around here we pick up the conversation.
Now, when preparing for this sermon, I was reminded of the following words from the author Beatrice Bruteau. She writes:
'Jesus had a fundamental vision – faith that all people are “children of God”. When he met a person, therefore, he really believed that God was somehow present in that person, so he looked for that presence through all the overlapping contradictions to it, until he found it. Then he addressed himself to that point in the person.' (Bruteau, B., 2005. The Holy Thursday Revolution. New York: Orbis Books)
Tracing this idea onto our passage, I think we see Jesus addressing himself to the point of Nicodemus’ zeal for God’s word, hoping that this will help to bring clarity and revelation. Nicodemus was a Pharisee, a teacher and leader within the Jewish community. As a Rabbi, he knew the Scriptures. And so to help Nicodemus, Jesus draws on an image taken from the Jewish texts, because it would already have been known and understood by him. It’s the image of the serpent in the wilderness.
‘And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.’ (John 3:14)
With this image of the serpent in mind, let’s return to our first reading…
Here in the book of Numbers we find the Israelites in the wilderness, journeying as part of an epic 40-year ‘pilgrimage’ to the land promised. Along the way Moses, their leader, is frequently required to deal with complaints, including in this reading. However, here the people speak against God as well as against Moses, seemingly forgetting all of God’s faithful provision of food and water whilst in the desert. The outcome isn’t good – poisonous serpents, causing many people to die. This prompts recognition amongst the people – recognition of their sin and need of forgiveness. At the people’s request, Moses intercedes in prayer and the result is a serpent of bronze, set on a pole, at which the people are to look so that they might live.
Do you see how the bronze serpent on the pole is an object for their salvation?
Let’s jump back to John’s Gospel for a moment…
Remember, Jesus is drawing on the image of the bronze serpent in an attempt to unlock Nicodemus’ understanding.
‘…just as Moses lifted the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up’, Jesus says. (John 3:14)
Now, there are myriad meanings for Jesus’ image of the Son of Man being lifted up – one of which is allusion to his eventual death, at height, on the Cross. We would be mistaken, however, to reduce the image of the Son of Man being lifted up to one that merely mirrors the image of the bronze serpent. Whilst the Cross is indeed atonement for humanity’s sin – something we all need to look at so that we might live – there is far greater depth to the invitation that Jesus is extending here, to Nicodemus and to us.
This point is important: We read on that the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that whoever believes in him may have life (John 3:16). Here belief carries the connotation of trusting in a person and of committing one’s life to a person. It’s not objective, it’s personal.
Let me tell a quick story before I conclude…
Seven years ago, I was starting out with the Community of St Anselm – a monastic community in London, comprising young Christians from around the world and from a variety of denominations. Towards the beginning of the year, we were invited to pair up for an activity called ‘The Long Loving Look’. Its premise was simple – to fix your gaze on the person opposite you, maintaining unbroken eye contact for two minutes. First one person would be the focus of the other’s gaze, then switch, with the other person becoming the focus. Now, I realise this might sound bit gushing, but it really was a very moving experience. There was a profound vulnerability in allowing a relative stranger to look so closely, with such loving intent. And there was enormous privilege in looking upon the other as Christ sees them. In the space between something was created – a kind of mutual depth of understanding.
In our time, a long loving look might be considered normal-ish for those in intimate relationships, but the idea of lovingly looking into the eyes of another for more than a few fleeting seconds would, I think, be considered fairly counter-cultural. And yet this is exactly the kind of face-to-face intimacy that we are invited to experience in relationship to Jesus – because Jesus isn’t an object, He’s a person. The gaze of Jesus is meant to be our home and we are invited to gaze upon his beauty and allow his life, his witness and the gift of his Spirit to utterly change and transform us from within. It’s personal – and nowhere more so than at his Holy Cross.
At the Cross we find love and forgiveness on a scale that is almost incomprehensible – yet this is where we are transformed. It’s where we are broken by the horror of his sacrifice and remade by the abundance of his grace. ‘My grace is sufficient for you’ (2 Corinthians 12:9) – or in other words, everything you need is found at the Cross.
Amen.