Snake-bit!

Sermon text for June 17:
Numbers 21:4-9; John 3:14-21

Not long ago I was talking with a man who has had more than his share of difficulties in life, beginning with an abusive home as a child. A major issue for him has been simple psychological survival. And the biggest question on his mind was always, “How will I get through this”?

He told me, “as a young boy I was given to flights of fancy. In fact of all of my mental faculties, my imagination was the most developed. I could call on my imagination whenever I wanted, and go any place that I wanted to go, and do anything I wanted to do."

But sometimes my imagination just took over and transported me into a world of its own creation before I knew what was happening. This was especially true on those days when my home became violent. When Dad was hitting Mom, and swearing at her in a drunken rage, I would hide in my room and my imagination would just take over. Sometimes I would find myself in an NFL football game running untouched into the end zone. The piercing screams in the other room became cheers from the crowded stadium, as my team mates lifted me high into the air.”

Then he said, “Those daydreams were wonderful. In some ways they were my salvation. They made me feel strong and important, and very different from my usual feelings of being weak and vulnerable.”

But of course the bubble would always burst, and he would come back to reality. He said he felt a little foolish when he remembered that he wasn’t invincible, that he was still weak and small and vulnerable. He felt like a victim in a world that he neither controlled nor understood.

When he grew up he said that he was still given to imaginative flights of fancy. When money grew tight he imagined how happy he would be to win the lottery. When his family faced problems he imagined himself a part of a perfect family that always made the right decisions, and was always kind and loving to one another.

Throughout his life there was a recurrent, but unspoken question, which was, “How am I going to get through this? How will I survive?” It is a question which occurs to us many times in life, when we face major disappointments, when our health fails, when the people we love hurt us. And when the hurt is deep enough, we can’t imagine living that way. Often our unspoken question is, “How can I ever live through this?”

But it is not only individuals who ask questions of survival, sometimes congregations ask, “How will we ever get through this? Our wounds are so severe, how can we ever heal?” Obviously a congregation cannot speak in the same way that an individual does, but the questions are still there.

Many years ago I was called on to serve a congregation that was in deep trouble. They had a major continuing conflict with their pastor who suddenly walked out during a session meeting and never returned. The congregation was in shock. They felt abandoned and angry and their grief was almost overwhelming. These emotions deepened when no one would come and serve them during their interim time. When I agreed to serve them one of the things I had to do was to help them articulate their pain and to ask the question, “How will we ever survive this?” And, “Can we really become a viable congregation again?”

This question is not new to the people of God. In our Old Testament lesson the Hebrew people almost screamed, “How will we survive this hardship? Let’s remember the context: they were out in the wilderness where life was incredibly hard, and they took a flight of fancy remembering better times in Egypt. There they had enough food and water, and in retrospect Egypt seemed like a wonderful place. With their imaginations working overtime, they forgot that only a little while earlier they had been asking, “How will we survive this forced labor?”, and they fantasized about being free.

One day as they fantasized about a better life, they complained so loudly against Moses and God, that God sent poisonous serpents to punish them. Many were bitten, and many died. In their anguish the people wondered again, “How will we live through this?” And not surprisingly, God had a simple plan for their survival. God directed Moses to sculpt a serpent out of bronze and to hold it high on a staff, so that anyone who was bitten could see it. And by God’s decree, those who looked upon the serpent lived.

It is interesting that God did not remove the serpents. Instead God provided a way for the people to live through the crises. In God’s plan the serpents were still there and the people were still bitten. The bites were still painful but God provided the symbol of the serpent which allowed the people to live when they looked at it. The reality was better than a fantasy, because when all was said and done the symbol of safety was still present while the wishes and daydreams had vanished.

There are still many times in life when we feel snake-bit. These experiences may be personal, within our families, or perhaps even within the church. I wonder how many times in the last few years when some of you have wondered, “How can our congregation ever survive?” Or maybe, “Does God still have a future for us?” Whether our questions about survival are personal or having to do with the church, God has provided a symbol to give us courage.

When we just can’t imagine how we will get through a crisis, that’s when God wants us to remember the living symbol of Jesus, high and lifted up on the cross. It is that image that draws all of humanity to Calvary to kneel in awe and wonder.

The cross does not save us from pain, but it promises that even as Jesus came safely through to the others side – from death into life – so will we find our way safely to the other side and into a future prepared for us by God. The cross is the symbol of our salvation and a reality better than anything our imaginations might create.

In Jesus Christ we endure a lifetime of difficulties, and come safely to the other side because, “God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son .... "

Copyright © 2007 by Dwight R. Blackstock