Dear Faith Family,
This past Sunday, our journey towards learning to live freely and lightly through Galatians came to an end. In his farewell remarks, the apostle Paul drew our attention once more to the image that captivated and compelled his vision of the free life. A historical event and transformative symbol by which Paul viewed himself and the everyday world he inhabited: "the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world." (6:14).
The cross as the symbol of our faith is nothing new to you and me. I know that today crosses decorate the walls of many of our homes. I know that today crosses are worn around many of our necks and tattooed on many of our bodies. If anything, we might be too familiar with the cross. But what if, like for myself, the image of the cross cultivates very little dissonance in the way I see myself and the world I inhabit? What if it no longer carries its original weight and appall as an instrument of death and unavoidable consequence of systems and states governed by human wit and wisdom? Well, when that happens, we need to see the cross afresh, which is my hope for today's letter.
We know that "God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life" (John 3:16). And that is why we cherish the cross, the "giving" of the Son for us. But did you know that Jesus' declaration directly preceding this famous verse helps us understand how the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ helps us see our daily steps in the world which God loves? Here is what Jesus said in John 3:14-15,
"In the same way that Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert so people could have something to see and then believe, it is necessary for the Son of Man to be lifted up--and everyone who looks up to him, trusting and expectant, will gain a real-life, eternal life."
Jesus is referencing a story of the wilderness wanderings of Israel from Numbers 21:4-9. The people of God find themselves between deliverance from enslavement and freedom in the fullness of the promised land. And the in-between is hard on God's people! It is a physically, emotionally, and spiritually challange maturing along their journey, as what they thought they knew of themselves, of the world, and of God is being stripped away as they learn to trust God's presence and provision. They complain a lot. They quarrel amongst themselves, a lot. They fight against other peoples and forces, a lot. They grumble, moan, and grow impatient with God's way in and for them. Sound familiar to anything you've experienced?
Anyway, at the climax of their fatigue, they venomously speak out against God's act of salvation, calling it worthless and for not. It is here that "fiery serpents" are sent among the people, and many of them die. A rather traumatic scene, don't you think? Seeing friends and family attacked by snakes and dying, as God's presence and provision is removed--since it was worthless after all.
Quickly the people take back their words, recognize the sin in wanting something other than the Lord and his way, and plead for his mercy to "take away the serpents from us." It's here that God does something not merely merciful but formative. Something not only to remove the forever consequence of their sin but to give the people an image to look at every time the reality of living in a world of sin bits them.
Carlos Ruiz, a pastor in Chicago, describes the scene and its implication this way, "After [the people of God] repented for their sin and asked for help to Moses, it would have made sense for God to remove the serpents right away in order to heal them. However, God did not do that. On the contrary, God asked Moses to build an icon of the very creature that was causing them to die, a serpent of bronze. Whenever they would look at the serpent of bronze, they would be healed and live...an odd way of being saved. It is odd and scary because they realized that if they looked at the traumatic icon, instead of running away from it [or becoming too comfortable with it], they would live."
The people in Numbers did not stop getting bit by the manifestations of sin, but they did have something to look at when they felt the sting, something to look at that would allow them to live despite the bite of sin. Ironically, the image was the very thing that bit them. The serpent in bronze was a visual manifestation of their discontent with God's presence and provision; in other words, his way to the good life. They were not given an image of a better life to look at to live, but rather the visual reality of the worst in this world.
In the same way that Israel in the wilderness was meant to look at an image, not of another world but the reality of this one to "live," so too are we to look to the cross as an image of reality as it is so that we might "gain a real-life." For, when we look at the image of the cross, we see two things. We see the real-life outworking of life on our own--and thus the same limitations and consequences of those we share this world with. And, we see God, amid things as they are, giving real-life, taking away death, limiting the consequences of our sin--and the sin of others.
Think about that for a moment--maybe for the rest of your life(!)--but at least for a moment right now. When the difficulty of living between deliverance and future promise begins to bite, when suffering the venom of others and even spewing our own, we can look to "the Son of Man lifted up" like "the serpent in the wilderness," admitting the reality in which we live and the mercy and grace of a new life gifted.
Just think, instead of quarreling, complaining, and all those other "works of the flesh" Paul says leads to "biting and devouring," when we see the manifestation of sin in our lives and experience it through others, what if we looked up to "the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ"? What might life look like--how might we see our next steps--through that line of sight?
Love you my friends. May what our Lord Jesus Christ gives freely, be deeply and personally yours. God bless.