Journey into Convers(at)ion (Jesus, Snakes, and Samuel L. Jackson) 3.14.21

“Journey into Convers(at)ion (Jesus, Snakes, and Samuel L. Jackson)” 

by Ross Tarpley
A sermon on Numbers 21:4-9 & John 3:1-21 

for the beloveds of First Austin on the Fourth Sunday in Lent, 2021

March 14, 2021

There was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a Jewish leader. 2 He came to Jesus at night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one could do these miraculous signs that you do unless God is with him.”

3 Jesus answered, “I assure you, unless someone is born anew, it’s not possible to see God’s kingdom.” 4 Nicodemus asked, “How is it possible for an adult to be born? It’s impossible to enter the mother’s womb for a second time and be born, isn’t it?”

5 Jesus answered, “I assure you, unless someone is born of water and the Spirit, it’s not possible to enter God’s kingdom. 6 Whatever is born of the flesh is flesh, and whatever is born of the Spirit is spirit. 7 Don’t be surprised that I said to you, ‘You must be born anew.’ 8 God’s Spirit blows wherever it wishes. You hear its sound, but you don’t know where it comes from or where it is going. It’s the same with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

9 Nicodemus said, “How are these things possible?”

10 Jesus answered, “You are [the] teacher of Israel and you don’t know these things? 11 I assure you that we speak about what we know and testify about what we have seen, but you don’t receive our testimony. 12 If I have told you about earthly things and you don’t believe, how will you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? 13 No one has gone up to heaven except the one who came down from heaven, the Human One. 14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so must the Human One be lifted up 15 so that everyone who believes in him [has] eternal life. 16 God so loved the world that [God] gave [the] only Son, so that everyone who believes in him won’t perish but [has] eternal life. 17 God didn’t send [the] Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him. 18 Whoever believes in him isn’t judged; whoever doesn’t believe in him is already judged, because they don’t believe in the name of God’s only Son.

19 “This is the basis for judgment: The light came into the world, and people loved darkness more than the light, for their actions are evil. 20 All who do wicked things hate the light and don’t come to the light for fear that their actions will be exposed to the light. 21 Whoever does the truth comes to the light so that it can be seen that their actions were done in God.”

This is the Gospel of our Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Would you pray with me? 

And now, O Lord, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts together in this place be pleasing and acceptable to you, O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.

Well, friends, it has been a year—almost to the day—since our lives were upended, since we last gathered fully as a faith community, since the world as we knew it was turned on its head. It’s been a year where words like “pandemic,” and “quarantine,” and “Zoom fatigue,” and “essential workers,” and “online church” have become commonplace. I saw a meme this week that read: “March 2021: Basically the same as March 2020… but with toilet paper.” And folx, if that ain’t the truth!!

It has been a YEAR. We have felt this wilderness. And yet. Here we are. You and me. This empty sanctuary. The season of Lent. And we gather and hope—albeit virtually—believing that there is yet a word from God this day. That there is something, some Good News from our sacred texts—from the wild and windblown Spirit of God—something for us today. 

Something to fill us, and something to call us…

Something given to us, and something required of us…

And so we continue in the Gospel according to John. Today, we find ourselves in chapter 3. Before this, Jesus performed his first miracle—his first “sign”—in John’s Gospel by turning water into wine at the wedding in Cana—a real crowd-pleaser. But then Jesus is in Jerusalem for the Passover, where we witnessed his righteous “Temple tantrum” from last week, with the demonstrative flipping of tables and prophetic correction. Now, we meet a man named Nicodemus—a Pharisee—who VERY likely heard about, if not himself saw Jesus’ tirade at the Temple. (Maybe that’s partly why Nic decides to visit Jesus at night… I mean, he is a respectable man of the Law. He doesn’t need to be associated with some crazy person!) 

Now, it’s important to remember that scripture has genre. It’s literary; it wasn’t scrawled down haphazardly on a napkin at the bar. It has intention, and movement, and narrative. And something worth noting in most, if not all of our sacred texts is who gets named—and who doesn’t. A person with a name tends to have a certain level of significance to them; often the name has some kind of double meaning, or it connects us to another character from elsewhere in the Bible. And so, here, we meet Nicodemus. And Nic has a conversation with Jesus. And we’re left without a whole lot of resolution at the end of it… Then, skipping ahead a few verses, Jesus meets an unnamed Samaritan woman at a well—in Samaria. (And I’m sure many of us are familiar with the animosity between Jews and Samaritans during Jesus’ time…) But this anonymous, “scandalous” woman also has a conversation with Jesus. In the middle of the day, mind you. And, despite all barriers and faux pas that could have hindered this interaction, we are told that she and “many Samaritans in that city believed in Jesus” because of her testimony. But Nicodemus… Ole Niccy-boy has a name—and clout, a profession! We are to understand that Nicodemus is a leader, a man of faith, an educated and devout person of significance. And he does’t seem to get it…

So Nicodemus goes to Jesus—in the anonymity of night—and seems to have planned his approach. He says, “Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God, for no one could do these miracles unless God were with him!” Which, isn’t a question, right? Perhaps this is a bit presumptuous of me, but this feels like one of those moments someone tries to rope you into a conversation where you are immediately put on blast: “Sooo. I understand you voted for Bob Politician in the last election. I guess that means you hate freedom and our constitutional rights, then?” (We all know what it’s like to have assumptions made about us, or to have our opinions manipulated by false logic. And we are all guilty of doing the same to others…)  

But Jesus does’t take the bait. He pivots and makes a weird comment about being “born anew” and seeing “the kingdom God.” (Which, strangely, compared to the other Gospel accounts, is the first of only TWO instances where Jesus uses this phrase in all of John… which makes me wonder if its rarity makes it “less” important, or, perhaps more important here?) Regardless, Nic doesn’t get it. But we can’t really blame him because Jesus—intentionally or not—uses a bit of wordplay here. The Greek word for “anew,” or “again,” ἄνωθεν, can also mean “from above.” Of course, we know Jesus is talking about a “spiritual” birth; but, I’m sure we have all known highly intelligent people like Nicodemus who sometimes take things too literally… And so Nic *opens mouth* and *inserts foot,* but Jesus is kind enough to explain it a bit. “Whatever is born of the Spirit is spirit…. God’s Spirit blows wherever it wishes.” Which is a bit of a redundancy. These words, “Spirit,” “wind,” “breath,” are all from the same root. So we could translate that last bit as: “God’s Spirit spirits wherever it wishes.” Even to a “loose” Samaritan woman at a well…

Now, at this point we can safely assume that the conversation is not going quite like Nicodemus had planned. (Which, I think is safe to assume about anytime we have a conversation with Jesus.) But Nic isn’t defensive; he doesn’t seem insulted or targeted. Instead, he shifts to curiosity. “How can these things be? What do you mean?” 

Then, Jesus turns up the heat a little. “You are [the] teacher of Israel and you don’t know these things?” Notice the definite article there: “you are THE teacher of Israel.” Earlier, Nic’s approach to Jesus did not have that article: “Rabbi, we know that you are A teacher who has come from God,” he says. Of course, Nicodemus is not the only teacher of Israel, but I think it’s an intentional choice of words. Here, Jesus is laying upon Nicodemus the full weight of his responsibility as a teacher of the Law, as someone who has been trained and educated and entrusted to lead others, as someone who should know better. And “when ya know better, do better.” 

It is in the context of THIS conversation where the Lectionary prescribes today’s Gospel reading. Verses 1 through 13 aren’t technically a part of today’s suggested passage. Instead, we’re given verses 14 through 21—which simultaneously includes one the most famous and one of the most obscure verses in all of scripture. We hear again:  14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so must the Human One be lifted up 15 so that everyone who believes in him [has] eternal life. 16 God so loved the world that [God] gave [the] only Son, so that everyone who believes in him won’t perish but [has] eternal life. 17 God didn’t send [the] Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him.

Which takes us back to that delightful and troublesome and harrowing passage from Numbers we heard a bit earlier. Now, I added to our traditional response to the reading of scripture. But if I were able to take it one step further, I probably would have added a question mark at the end. “The Israelites complain. God sends poisonous snakes to kill a bunch of them. They petition Moses. Moses prays and makes a bronze icon. Anyone else who gets bitten can look at it and live… This is one of our weird, yet sacred stories. Thanks be to God?” Instead, I just added the, perhaps more acceptable “Lord, have mercy.” (We are in Lent, after all!) 

Now, if we were gathered in person this morning, I would probably ask for a show of hands to see how many of you have a cute inspirational poster with these verses that you got from Mardel. Or at least a show of hands for how many of you remember ever hearing this story before… And I’ve got to be honest. I am likely just as lost as you when it comes to understanding this passage. It’s confounding—and rightfully so! I’ll admit, part of me is with God on this one. Suuuure, the Israelites are stuck wandering in the wilderness, eating mana to survive, serving their sentence before they can enter the Promised Land, but MY GOD. They NEVER stop complaining! God rescued them from slavery, is providing for all their basic needs, and helped them win a battle against the Canaanites literally one verse before this. (I mean, I can think of some people I would consider sicking poisonous snakes on…) But, of course, the people repent and ask Moses to pray on their behalf that God would take the snakes away.

Now, let’s put it out there: I see the elephant—er, the poisonous snake, if you will—in the room. Are we to believe that God intentionally created a problem and caused violence for God to, then, be the only one who could fix it? That sounds more like a corrupt corporation or government than the God made known in Jesus Christ. To be faithful, we have to acknowledge that there are some deep theological issues with how we reconcile stories like this. (For the record, I think attributing natural disasters or tragedy to the Divine is poor theology and gives us more issues than solutions.) But we also remember and confess that the Bible is not a book of science or even history, as we understand it. The questions we ask are not primarily who or when or even how; but why. Why do we have this story? What does it have to teach us? Can we have a conversation with scripture? “God’s Spirit spirits wherever it wishes.” Even in these bizarre and problematic moments…

So we return to the text. The people complain. Their lives are not as they would like them to be. They keep running into obstacle after obstacle and, despite their trust in God, they are anxious about their future. The “wilderness” is not where they chose to be… (Sound familiar?) THEN, more hits the proverbial fan. Poisonous, murderous snakes. It’s like: not only are they still in the middle of a pandemic, an historic winter storm causes further chaos and calamity. I can hear some of the grumbling and wailing as they discuss how to bring this up to Moses. As “Saint” Samuel L. Jackson put it in the 2006 American classic, Snakes on a Plane: “I have HAD it with these […] snakes on this […] plane!” 

I remember vividly how my preaching professor in seminary once told us that if ever we made a cultural reference in a sermon, then that was basically an “endorsement” of the entire work. So, if we quoted a movie or a song, we’d better make sure we would be fine promoting it in its entirety before using it… I have to admit I’ve never actually seen Snakes on a Plane, so I really can’t vouch for it. But the point my professor was trying to make was to ensure we wouldn’t quote something so “secular” as to be profane or offensive. Now, in response, I would suggest we provide content warnings for the Bible. “If you quote part of it, you better make sure you’d endorse all of it!” But I digress…

The Israelites have a snake problem. And they ask Moses to pray that God would take the snakes away. And God provides an out. Moses casts this serpent made of bronze and puts it on a pole; “and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live.” 

Did you notice? The snakes didn’t go away. But God still gave life.

Despite our own biblical ineptitude, Jesus thought this story was significant enough to remember. Right before one of the most quoted verses in all of scripture—one that we have distilled into some magic mantra to win souls with “fire insurance”—right before John 3:16 we have this reference: 14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so must the Human One be lifted up 15 so that everyone who believes in him [has] eternal life…  

Do you think Nicodemus remembered this reference right off the bat? Or do you think he had to go back and study the Torah a bit the next day? Do you think he wrestled with this story like us? Do you think he began to recognize the snakes in his own life? The venom of power and self-righteousness, the fangs of ego and pride, the toxin of corrupt systems and apathy, the bite of exceptionalism and intolerance. Yet, Jesus offers antidote—another way. Through his self-sacrifice and the defiant act of Divine Love in the face of our worst cruelty, we can look up and live. 

And this “life” is not just some linear extension of a timeline. Jesus is much less concerned about whatever the “afterlife” looks like than we tend to be. He says that everyone who believes won’t perish, but has—HAS, present tense—eternal life. The Greek here, εχη ζωην αιωνιον, is not something which is to come but something which begins immediately. As Rob Myallis puts it, “eternal life begins NOW. It is not a future reality, but a present one found in Christ! Whoever is trusting in God has life which continues into eternity.” The word αιωνιον, from which we derive the term “aeon,” is an undefined period of time which is not restrictive to some perpetuation of our consciousness after death. Rather, it refers to the life we have now, and how fully we live into it—in this “aeon” that we have been given. Jesus’ words in John 10 help clarify: “I have come that they may have life—life in abundance.” Which is not to ignore or dismiss the times we are stuck in the wilderness, or when the snakes just won’t go away. But the fullness of life offered through Christ promises an abundance of depth and meaning, where we gaze at the very things that are killing us, and we repent; where we see God dead on the cross, knowing full well where we were in the crowd… And yet, where we see that sin and death do not have the last word; where, out of the dirt springs the promise of new life; where Jesus meets us in conversation and saves us again and again.

Friends, this “wilderness” business is hard. Like Nicodemus, we may feel quite certain of ourselves, but a conversation with Jesus leads to a conversion of heart. (Spoiler alert: Nicodemus—the one with the name—shows up again later in the story.) Like the Israelites, we may find ourselves wandering and tested, and the snakes are still there… But “God’s Spirit spirits wherever it wishes.” Even in the wilderness; even among the snakes…

But when you know the thing that’s poisoning you, will you do something about it? What will we do when we come out of THIS “wilderness”? What will have changed? Will we know our need for community? Will we continue to see injustice and work to correct it? Will we pursue constructive dialogue with those who may disagree with us? Will we risk “conversion” in conversations with real people? 

Will we look to Christ and live?

I’d like to end today with a prayer of confession—a poem—by one of my new favorite voices, Steve Garnaas-Holmes:

You have to look your evil in the face to be healed.

The snakes that plagued the Hebrews in the desert

were their betrayal come back to bite them,

their being Eden’s serpent.

The cure was to gaze at their sin.

So we gaze upon the Crucified One, our victim,

and look our awfulness in the eye

and only there grasp forgiveness,

and only then become truly alive.

On the cross is lifted up

our racism, our violence, our materialism,

our deep seated me-first-ism.

Posted there is our last text to God,

“I’ll let you know when I need you.”

We look at it, look at it hard,

to get free of the lie that we’re just fine,

the lie that keeps us from knowing

how deeply we are forgiven,

how vastly we are blessed,

how infinitely we are loved.

Amen.

*artwork: The Conversation - 1995 by Luc Tuymans