Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Sermon for the 4th Sunday of Lent

Preached at Grace and Canadochly on March 11, 2018
Preaching texts: Numbers 21:4-9, John 3:14-21


We are our own worst enemy. That’s been my theme this Lent. Outlining all the ways in which sin sneaks out of us. All the ugly parts of ourselves that come out for breather every now and then and how we find ways to justify and excuse them. I’ve spent much of the last few weeks stripping away those excuses and giving us a very ugly look at who we truly are. It’s not a pretty picture. It’s not meant to be.

So what do we do about it?

Here, we come again to that central question of our Christian life. We all come here for two reasons. One is to hear God tell us through Scripture, music, preaching, and whatever way he chooses how much he loves us and I hope all of you have received that, because it’s true. In spite of everything we are, God has no regrets about saving us. About saving you. He’d do it all over again if he had to. He does love you.

The second thing we come here for is to answer the question, in light of that love, what do we do with ourselves? We all want to do better. We all want to be better. We come to seek the good, as I said last week. We want to become closer to this God who has done so much for us. We want to become more like him. But our sins, our vices, our prejudices, our hate, our fear gets in the way. Time and again, as much as we struggle with it, it keeps getting in the way. So much so, that some Christians, some of us perhaps, have simply given up the struggle. This is the way I am, this vice, this flaw is too much a part of me to be overcome. I don’t even want to try anymore.

I relate, I truly do. I’ve confessed before that there was a time in my life when I was a lot more racist, a lot more sexist, a lot more homophobic, a lot more hateful in general. You could probably guess that by the way I preach that I struggle with that still. And you’ve seen that there are times when I let my anger at the ways of the world turn to something ugly. When I snarl at the President or anyone else with whom I disagree. I try to not let it get the better of me, but it still does from time to time. And I get tired of fighting it constantly. It would be so easy to give in. Anger feels good. Hate is insidious that way. It’s a sweet poison that seems so good at first.

What am I to do? What are we all to do with those parts of ourselves that we cannot seem to overcome?

The simple fact of the matter is that we can’t overcome that part of ourselves. Sin infects us so completely that we cannot overcome it ourselves. We can improve. We can win battles, but never the war. It’s beyond us.

But that’s where God comes in. The war isn’t meant to be won by us. That’s God’s job. And that’s what our lessons today are here to remind us.

The OT lesson has the people of God in trouble. The story claims they get into this mess because they complained about God’s care for them in the wilderness, but that’s probably an editorial flourish. What really happened was they stumbled upon a den of venomous snakes (Look up “snake den” on Google for some nightmare fuel and a good sense of what they ran into.) And a ton of people got bit.

Poisoned by snake venom is a horrible horrible way to die. Cobra venom, for instance, will paralyze you and you eventually suffocate because the muscles that control your lungs won’t work anymore. Rattlesnake venom causes your red blood cells to rupture and that means your blood stops carrying vital oxygen and other nutrients to your body. No matter how many breaths you take, your body can’t sustain itself and you die of oxygen starvation. Others cause your blood to clot and you have a stroke or heart attack that finishes you off. Take your pick. Each one more fun than the last.

God’s solution to this is a symbol, perhaps the origin of the caduceus that is still used as an emblem of healing: a bronze serpent wrapped around a pole. Look upon the serpent. Look upon the thing that’s killing you and you will live. That irony is intentional.

Fast forward to Jesus. He makes direct reference to this OT story when he’s explaining to Nicodemus why he’s here. “Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness...” If a snake is killing you, then it will be a snake that saves you. If sin and death is killing you, then it will be by sin and death that we will be saved. That’s his point. And that’s precisely what happens. Jesus is lifted up on a pole, nailed to a cross. The ultimate sin, murdering God, becomes our salvation.

That’s when the war was won.

So what about us. In a sense, we all already knew this. I’ve not said anything here that we haven’t heard and believed from time long past. But I think the point is to be reminded of it. When sin gets the better of us and we feel our heart filling with regret and despair over that, remember that the war is won. Remember what God has done, that he used human sin to demonstrate his dedication to us, his love for us. Remember the cross and look to it. Find in it the courage and strength to fight anew. Sin hasn’t gotten the better of you forever. It never will, because of the cross.

In a few minutes, we will come forward to the altar to (receive the sacrament/receive anointing). That’s our moment to let go and let God, as the bumper sticker encourages us. There are always things that will be out of our control, sometimes even ourselves. But in the end, God has the victory we need. The war is won. If guilt and despair weigh you down, leave them here. Walk away instead with hope. Sin cannot get the better of you forever. God has seen to that. Receive his forgiveness, receive his strength, and go and try again to become the one he’s called you to be. Look to the cross and find the means to keep going. Amen.


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