Fourth Sunday of Easter

John 10:11-18

In today’s gospel, we walk in on a conversation that has already begun. It’s like entering a play halfway through the first act, or arriving at a ball game sometime in the second quarter.

In the previous chapter of John, Jesus healed a blind man and the Jewish religious leaders were investigating the healing which had happened on the Sabbath. They questioned the man’s neighbors and parents and the man himself. They were suspicious both of the man who was healed and of Jesus.

Before we get to today’s reading, Chapter 10 begins with Jesus talking to those same Pharisees – the ones who had been examining the circumstances of the man’s healing. Echoing language used throughout Hebrew Scripture to describe both kings and Yahweh, Jesus drew a picture of a sheepfold and shepherds, and then contrasted thieves and bandits, strangers and even a hired hand to the good shepherd. His audience would have understood that he was accusing the Pharisees of failing to care for the people entrusted to them. They had not been trustworthy watchmen, they had not protected the people against evildoers, and they had become strangers to the people entrusted to their care.

In stark contrast, Jesus says in verse 11, “I am the Good Shepherd.”  And then he describes the ways that the relationship we have with the Good Shepherd, with God, is different from our human relationships. Remember, in John to believe in God is to know God and be in relationship with God. Faith and following Jesus is always about the relationship with the Holy or Divine who knows us as children of God.

Jesus says that his sheep know Him and listen to His voice; he tells his listeners that the good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep and then he says, “I have other sheep too, that do not belong to this fold.” (verse 16)

As much comfort as we draw from our traditions and rituals, it is Good News that there are other sheep, that God is ever increasing the size of the sheepfold. God’s love, and so, God’s kingdom, is broader and more abundant than we can understand. 

Over the past year our congregation and others have learned that the Church – the capital-C Church – is not a building. It had been said before but quarantining and worshiping apart meant we have had to learn new ways to be the Church. One of the gifts of this year is we have discovered how to worship alongside beloveds in Pennsylvania, New York, Texas and Washington. Another is that we pray together from wherever we are when the daily prayer text arrives. A third is the witness of love and relationship shared in care packages with members on the prayer list.

As we resume more traditional ways of being Church, it is important to remember that we are one flock with one Shepherd (v. 16) and ask, “Who’s missing?” and “Why?”

One of the hardest things a person can do is walk into a church. There are lots of reasons people stay away from churches. Sometimes those reasons reflect a broken relationship with God. Sometimes it’s about the style of worship. But more often, the reasons are rooted in their experience of the people who are in churches. They, or someone they love, have been criticized, mocked or scorned for their appearance. They have been told they are not loved or loveable. They have been coldly ignored or smothered with attention and embarrassed. They have been made to feel like they were out of place because they didn’t have children, or because they weren’t married. Or worse, they’ve been told they don’t belong or aren’t welcome.

When we church people fail to love in the ways that the Good Shepherd loves us, we hurt people and a wounded person doesn’t often risk that kind of hurt happening again. Left outside the gate or to the wolves, they go someplace else.

But in the words of Episcopal Bishop Michael Curry, “Everybody is God’s somebody.”[i] Being one flock means that we are not whole or complete until the people who are missing are welcomed as children of God, sheep of the same shepherd.

So what are ways we can welcome all those whom God loves?

When we decided to resume indoor worship, we also decided to continue livestreaming worship. While COVID remains a concern, we also realized that, for some of God’s children, there are real barriers to physically attending worship in our building. Livestreaming means our whole flock can be together.

A couple of times during drive-in worship neighbors crossing the property stopped and listened to worship, even participating in communion on Easter morning. It was awesome to watch new people drawn in but now it also makes me wonder how moving indoors may leave some of God’s children outside the gate and vulnerable to the wolves and what we might do about it.

So, I invite you to carry the question, “Who is missing and why?” with you as you leave worship.

God’s love is infinite; it isn’t a zero sum game where inviting more people into the relationship means there’s less love or grace for those of us who are already here. So how might  our lives – our everyday words and actions, as well as our Sunday worship and prayers – tell others, “There is plenty of room for all of God’s children”?

Let us pray…
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your abundant love and mercy,
for your watchfulness and protection, and for your care.
Thank you for Son Jesus who lays down his life for all of your children.
Show us how to love so that everyone would know that they are somebody to you.
We pray in Jesus’ name.
Amen.

[i] Presiding Bishop Michael Curry preaching during Compline, April 20, 2021. The Episcopal Church in Minnesota.

Third Sunday of Easter

Luke 24:36b-48 

Because we read the different resurrection appearances to the disciples across the weeks that follow Easter morning, it’s easy to forget that this story from Luke, and the one we heard last week from John, are all set on that first day, the same day the women had found the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. 

Now late in the evening of that first Easter, the disciples are together, talking about the day’s events - events we haven’t heard about in the assigned texts. First Jesus appeared to two other disciples as they walked to the village Emmaus some seven miles away, but they did not recognize him until he took bread, blessed it , broke it and gave it to them, and then Luke says that Jesus appeared to Simon Peter. 

And here Jesus appears again. Following the same instructions that he gave his disciples when he sent them out in pairs in Luke 10 (and in Matthew 10), he offers a greeting of peace and stands among them. And Luke tells us they are startled and terrified.

Even though he had told them three times already how the Messiah would be betrayed by human hands, be killed and be raised again. (Luke 9:21-22, 9:43-44, 18:31-33) The truth Jesus had revealed remained hidden from them.

Even though at least three of them saw Jesus earlier in the day. It was easier to believe they were seeing things or that Jesus was a ghost. They could not yet trust that the resurrection was real.

So Jesus shows them his hands and his feet and how he is flesh and bone, and not imaginary or a phantom, and then he does what he had done again and again throughout his ministry in Galilee: he eats with them. Luke removes any doubt about the reality of the resurrection. Watching Jesus eat in front of them gives the disciples, and all of us who are hearing this account, physical proof to allay any doubts or suspicions that linger.

Eating the disciples’ leftovers, Jesus shows them that he is the same man who took five loaves and two fish, blessed them and broke them and gave them to the crowds, feeding five thousand men. (Luke 9) He is the same man they knew in the breaking of the bread, on the night he was arrested. (Luke 22). The same man who they had heard about from the women, from Cleopas and his companion and from Simon Peter. 

Jesus lives and they are witnesses to his resurrection.

There’s a second reason for Jesus to eat with the disciples though. All through Luke’s gospel, Jesus demonstrates a wide welcome as he gathers people around him in table fellowship, eating with tax collectors and sinners (Luke 5:30, 15:1-2), breaking taboos and including outsiders in the meal. (Nissen, 57) And now he includes the disbelievers, the ones who are wondering, and the ones who are afraid. 

I would guess that “disbelieving, wondering and afraid” describe each one of us at some point in our lives, so it is good news that Jesus doesn’t leave anybody out.

Instead, Jesus meets us where we are and invites us into relationship as we are. We follow Jesus with our whole selves. Even in our joy at being in the sanctuary or hearing the organ resonating today, we wonder why God doesn’t stop the violence that has killed innocent people in places like Rock Hill and Indianapolis. Or where God is when we are angry or disappointed because something in our lives has gone horribly wrong and we feel utterly alone. Or we struggle to believe even though we’ve heard the Word spoken, and we’ve seen God in events in our lives because, sometimes, as the disciples experienced, the truth of God’s love, forgiveness and redemption seems too good to be real. 

Jesus doesn’t cast out the disciples or turn away from them when they show their disbelief, wonder or fear. As St. Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, and God's weakness is stronger than human strength (1Cor. 1:25) God knows us and knows we are works in progress. We cannot redeem ourselves by our own merit or understanding; we cannot save ourselves or be made righteous apart from Christ. “Works in progress” are, by definition, unfinished, still developing. They aren’t deficient or flawed; they’re simply not yet complete. God makes us complete in Christ. 

The Good News today is that Jesus lives and because he lives, we live, with both our wondering and our joy. 

We live, with both our disbelief and our worship. 

We live, with both our fears and our confidence in God’s love for us.

Today, Jesus invites us to celebrate being in relationship with the living Lord, who sees us and knows us fully and completely.

Let us pray…
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your Son Jesus whose life, death and resurrection are the foundation for our faith and life with You.
Thank you for your abundant grace that you forgive us even when we cannot see You are with us or we forget your Word and promises.
Stand among us and give us your peace so that we may be your witnesses in a world that does not know peace.
We pray in the name of our risen Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.
Amen.

Easter Sunday

Mark 16:1-8

What do you think the women carried that morning?

They had watched from a distance as Jesus breathed his last breath (Mk. 15:37) and knew his body had been taken down from the crucifix and placed into the tomb. They had been discussing how to move the heavy stone that would have sealed the tomb’s entrance. They were expecting to find his remains, his body.

Scripture says they brought spices, and reference books tell us it probably was a mix of myrrh and aloes that they intended to use to anoint the body of Jesus. Myrrh is used in anointing and liniments, and aloe would have masked the odor of decay. But I wonder what else they carried. Maybe some kind of salve to moisten his parched lips. Maybe a clean towel to wash his feet or wipe away the blood where the soldiers had pierced his side? Would they have laid anything at the tomb when they were finished? Flowers or a marker of some kind? This was their beloved teacher and friend after all.

Imagine those are the thoughts the women are having when they arrive at the tomb, figuring out what they need to do and in what order and how best they can honor this person whom they loved.

And then they see the stone has already been moved. I wonder about the surprise or strangeness of that discovery, but Mark doesn’t give us any indication that they were wary, suspicious or tentative. Maybe they just felt relief that there was no obstacle keeping them from their Jesus now.

Of course, everything changes when they enter the tomb.

Instead of their beloved, they find a young man who immediately tells them that Jesus is risen and has gone ahead of them. As if they didn’t hear him clearly, he repeats himself two more times, assuring them that Jesus is not there and the tomb is truly empty.

Have you ever been shocked into silence, astonished and perplexed?

The terror and amazement that the women at the empty tomb felt wasn’t the heavy dread that we have felt collectively at times of national distress, the heart-clenching fear you experience when you confront a phobia like snakes or heights, or even the spine-tingling fear brought on by reading Steven King in an empty house in the wee hours of the morning.

Instead, this fear – this terror or amazement that seized the women - came from witnessing something unexpected, miraculous and beyond their understanding.

Mark describes this same kind of amazement and terror after other miracles throughout his gospel.

When Jesus stilled the sea, his disciples were filled with awe (Mk. 4:41) and when he healed the hemorrhaging woman and revived the young girl, the people with him were amazed (Mk. 5:33).Then the people were afraid when they saw how he healed the Gerasene demoniac (Mk. 5:15) and the disciples were terrified when Jesus walked on water at the sea of Gennesaret. (Mk. 6:50)

Each time the power of God is made visible in Jesus we see the people react with this awe – this terror and amazement.

The women had seen Jesus die. They fully expected to find his body in the tomb and they were gobsmacked when he wasn’t there.

Wouldn’t you be, too? (pause)

According to Mark, the amazed and terrified women fled the tomb and said nothing to anyone. But we figure they must have said something to someone eventually though or we wouldn’t be here today to celebrate that Christ is risen.

Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of Man, rose and went ahead of Mary Magdalene, Mary mother of James, Salome and all of his disciples, to Galilee. He didn’t go back into Jerusalem, to the palace or to Pilate; he didn’t go to the temple or the courtyard of the high priest. He went to Galilee, to his homeplace, the same familiar towns and villages where he had spent all of his years of ministry and the place where he had healed the sick, driven out demons and taught how much God so loved the world.

The Easter story tells us that Christ is risen and goes ahead of us into the world where we live every day. We don’t have to move gigantic rocks to find him. He isn’t hiding. Jesus invites us to see him in ordinary and unremarkable places. The places we call home, the streets of our community, the nursing homes and the hospital. The places where we work and live. The places where we find our friends and the people who have known us forever.

God invites us to live in a world where Christ is alive. Instead of preparing for death like the women approaching the tomb, we are called to new life. This Easter morning – and every Sunday when we celebrate the Resurrection - we encounter Jesus in Word and in Sacrament. In place of spices and oils that cover up sin and death, God offers us forgiveness and mercy and takes away the sin of the world, inviting us to take up the cross instead. Again and again, Christ goes before us and calls us to follow him.

Thanks be to God.
Amen.

Maundy Thursday

Mark 14:22-25

Maundy Thursday is named after the command or mandatum that Jesus gives to his disciples. When you read John’s account of the last night that Jesus spent with his disciples, you witness him tie a towel around his waist and wash the feet of his friends and then you hear Jesus say,

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. (John 13:34 NRS)

There’s no foot washing or similar command in Mark’s gospel; instead, what we witness in Mark is the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup.

It is the image we see in DaVinci’s painting of the Last Supper, where the twelve disciples are gathered around Jesus at a banquet table.

And it is the loving action that we live out, again and again, when we gather for Holy Communion.

Later in tonight’s service, for the first time since we began worshiping together online more than a year ago, we will hear the words of institution that we hear in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians and eat and drink, fully participating in this meal together.

The words “this is my body” remind us of the sacrifice Jesus makes for our sake, but the words “new covenant” remind us that the story doesn’t end with his death. In Christ, we are brought to new life and new relationship with God and with one another.

The meal is a visible expression of God’s love for us, the same love that Jesus speaks of when he is with his disciples. Through our participation, we become a community, called to follow Jesus and to love one another.

One of the astonishing things about this divine love is its inclusivity. As night falls, Jesus is with all twelve of his disciples. Judas is there with him. Judas ate at the table and had his feet washed by Jesus. One of the people who is closest to Jesus and then later betrays him is part of the beloved community Jesus forms here.

What that tells me is that even when sin takes hold of me ̶ when I am turned inward on myself, my resentments fester, or I put other idols before God ̶ even then, God welcomes me to the table. Adopted at baptism as a child of God, now God feeds me and nourishes me, and restores me to this new covenant relationship.

Throughout its history, religious people have tried to define who is clean and unclean, who is pious enough to earn God’s love, and whose actions disqualify them, costing them their seat at the Table. But Lutheranism teaches us that there is nothing we can do by our own merit or our own understanding to earn God’s love. Participation at the table is never about my worthiness, or yours.

It is about being in relationship with our God whose love for each and every one of us is seen in the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, and heard in the words “given and shed for you.”

Let us pray…[i]
Good and gracious God,
Thank you for your Son Jesus of Nazareth, the living Christ whose love shocks, surprises, and far exceeds our understanding.
Forgive me when I am like Judas— the one who betrayed him, the one who failed to see the good right in front of him, the one who might have thought he wasn’t worthy of your love.
Create in me a new heart and mind, one that can see and hear you more clearly when you tell me you love me.
In your Holy Name we pray,
Amen.

[i] Adapted from a prayer by Sarah Are | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org.

Palm Sunday

Mark 11:1-11

Sometimes, this day takes on two purposes, and after the blessing of the palms, we include the reading of the passion, the events that will happen later in Holy Week. On this Palm Sunday though, we are only going to hear Mark’s account of Jesus entering Jerusalem.

Often on Palm Sunday we have processed from the fellowship hall, around the church building and into the sanctuary waving emerald green palms high in the air and shouting “Hosanna.” And especially if small children are invited to lead the palm procession, it feels festive and joyful. After all, who doesn’t love a parade?

I’d guess that Lent and its somber focus on penitence and forgiveness have primed us for celebration. And at the end of Holy Week, we will celebrate, with the resurrection, but today is not about parades and celebrations.

The first part of the story is well-known. Mark, Matthew and Luke all include the conversation between Jesus and his disciples, instructing them to go into the town and find a donkey, or as Mark says, a colt, and bring it back to him. And by way of explanation, they tell anyone who asks that the animal is needed by the Lord. And nobody bats an eye.

Jesus has already talked with his disciples three times about the suffering and death that he will endure. He has challenged their expectations about what kind of messiah he will be. And now, instead of riding a majestic steed, he chooses to enter Jerusalem riding atop a plain donkey.

The cloaks and leafy branches that are laid before his way can be seen as signs of adoration but just as likely, they were a practical way to tamp down the dust that would be kicked up as he rode.

And yet, the passage still reads as though the people are preparing for a coronation or enthronement. Expectations are high.

And then nothing happens.

Jesus goes into the temple, looks around, sees how late it is and leaves.

And the scene ends.

Matthew and Luke have the temple scene where Jesus throws out the money changers immediately follow his arrival in the temple and, as we talked about a few weeks ago, John has it at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. But Mark puts it on the next day, and while it’s possible that the timing of this detail doesn’t matter, the effect here is that Jesus doesn’t speak at all from his entrance into Jerusalem to his return to Bethany at the end of the day.

Imagine how he carried himself or what his emotions or expressions were. Surely if people are shouting acclamation and pleading “Save us we pray” - which is what Hosanna means – you’d react or respond. If this was a modern protest or demonstration, you’d expect speeches; if it was a political rally, you’d expect promises. There’d be some kind of climax.

But instead, at least here in Mark’s gospel, there’s nothing. Jesus appears reticent, unshaken or unmoved by the people surrounding him.

As Lamar Williamson, author of the Interpretations commentary, writes, “his silence seems to suggest, “I am Messiah, and I will save; but not as you expect.” (204)

Not as you expect.

As we enter into Holy Week, I wonder, what are our expectations of the Messiah?

Do we expect a Messiah who saves us from illness, pain or grief?

Do we expect a Messiah whose power and authority are in sync with the world where we live?

Do we expect a Messiah who takes our side and punishes our enemies?

Because in Jesus we meet a Messiah who bears our suffering but does not erase it;

a Messiah who laments and weeps;

a Messiah who is unafraid to love those who the world calls unlovable;

a Messiah who seeks justice even when it makes him unpopular, even when it leads to his death.

We are invited to enter this Holy Week not as if we were atop parade floats accompanied by jubilant noisemakers and crowds, but instead following the Lord knowing that each day we draw closer to the cross.

Let us pray…[i]

God of palm branches and hosannas:

We love a good Palm Sunday celebration. We love the sound of a joyful parade.

We love shouting, “Hosanna!” We love that Palm Sunday means Easter is just around the corner.

We love good news.

We give thanks that even when we get distracted,

you call us back to you, and remind us what it means that you have given us a Savior, a Messiah.

Help us remember that we are known, we are loved and we are forgiven. Again and again and again.

We pray in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Amen.

[i] Adapted from prayers by the Rev. Sarah Are, A Sanctified Art.

Fifth Sunday in Lent

John 12:20-33

Yesterday was the first day of spring, and while I saw crocus, daffodils and pear trees blooming, the wind was piercing, reminding me that we are still many weeks away from the last threat of frost or a hard freeze. We are living in this ‘in-between time’ of “already but not yet.”

We are experiencing this ‘in-between time’ as the pandemic continues as well. Percentages of positive cases are falling and, slowly, vaccination rates are rising. We have come through more than a year of precautions to keep each other safe, but risk remains. “Already but not yet.”

Today’s gospel is set in another ‘in-between time.’

In this chapter of the Fourth Gospel we hear the last words Jesus speaks during his public ministry – a discourse that could be read as “an interpretation of the “final sign in the Gospel: Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension.”[i]

Promising “the ruler of this world will be driven out”, he speaks of Satan’s loss of authority over the world, even as the religious authorities were plotting to arrest him and kill him. (John 11:57) Jesus isn’t wearing rose-colored glasses or being a Pollyanna; he recognizes the evil in the world but has unshakeable confidence that God will be victorious over it.

And then Jesus makes his third reference to his being “lifted up”. We first heard that phrase last week in John 3:14 where it said that Jesus is the source of salvation to all. It appears a second time in 8:28 when Jesus first speaks with the disciples about his death. And now he is telling everyone who is listening to him what is about to happen, and he is promising that when he is lifted up from the earth, he will draw all people to himself. (12:32)

Remember, that in John’s gospel, being lifted up is not only about the crucifixion but also the ascension, creating a way to the Father through Jesus.

Death is all too familiar -whether that death is physical death of someone you love, the death of a long-held belief, the death of a trusted relationship, or the death of a cherished dream. What is unfamiliar and challenges us is to imagine that there is something beyond death. God’s power to transform death into new life and make a way where there has been no way makes the crucifixion, resurrection and ascension exceptional.

This power is the wonder we experience when we see new blooms opening above frosty flowerbeds or the exhilaration we feel when a loved one has been vaccinated against the coronavirus. It is the realization that God continues, again and again, to do something new in the face of long odds and difficulties.

New Testament scholar Father Raymond Brown writes, “The victorious hour of Jesus constitutes a victory over Satan in principle; yet the working out of this victory in time and place is gradual work of believing Christians.”[ii] We are in an ‘in-between time’ of “already but not yet” as we live in the world as it is and long for a world where God is glorified.

The dilemma we face is that we are simul justus et peccator or “both saint and sinner.” If achieving the glory of God is our responsibility alone, we will fail. If driving Satan, or the prince or ruler of the world out, and resisting and condemning all evil is our task, the future is grim. Like Peter, we passionately swear our commitment to Jesus as Lord but within hours, we deny him. We have to echo what Saint Paul named in Romans 7 where he said, “19 I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.”

But the Good News we have in today’s gospel is that it isn’t our work alone. Remember, God gets all the verbs. Jesus draws people to himself. That doesn’t give Christians a free pass to do nothing. Instead it is a promise that we are empowered by God to do God’s work in the world. As the author of First John wrote

4 …whatever is born of God conquers the world. And this is the victory that conquers the world, our faith. 5 Who is it that conquers the world but the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God? (1 John 5:3-5)

In faith and by the power of God’s Holy Spirit, we are given the authority to create this life-giving world where evil is resisted and defeated, and where God is glorified.

Of course, as quickly as we recognize the gift and authority God has given us, we also ask how?

So, let’s return to the parable Jesus began with. There we are permitted, and even instructed, to let things die so that new life may come, and new fruit may be born.

We cannot cling too greedily or clutch too tightly to what is already ours. We have to hold things loosely and even be willing to give them up - to let things die and be buried so that there is space for new things to grow.

Honestly, this isn’t easy, even for congregations, churches and church-goers, even when we know God promises there is life after death.

But especially as we approach Holy Week and Easter, as spring advances and the pandemic’s shadow grows smaller, let’s remember that death never gets the last word and think of what may need to die and imagine what new life or fruit may be possible in our lives and our ministries.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for Your Son Jesus, the source of salvation for all, and for the abundant life you promise to all who know Him.

Forgive us when we hold things too tightly and forget to trust You.

Help us believe that You will make something new when all we see is death.

We pray in the name of Jesus, our Lord and Savior. Amen.

[i] Karoline Lewis. Commentary on John 12:20-33, Luther Seminary. workingpreacher.org

[ii] Raymond Brown. The Gospel According to John I-XII. 477.

Fourth Sunday in Lent

John 3:14-21

Today’s gospel text is eight verses but one of them - John 3:16 - is one of the best-known or most familiar and easily recognized verses in Scripture. It’s one that shows up on car decals and posters at football games. Given its prominence in Christianity and culture, I invite you to listen to this passage as if you’ve never heard it before and see if you hear anything new today.

John begins with a reference to the Old Testament story from Numbers that we heard just before the gospel. But in contrast to John 3:16, it’s one of the lesser known stories of the Bible.

Whining like children who open a full pantry and say there isn’t anything to eat, the Israelites were grumbling and griping about the divine gift of manna they’d been given by God to sustain them and nourish them in the desert. But instead of calling the people to God and telling them he has heard their murmuring, as he had in Exodus 16, this time God responds to their complaints by setting serpents loose in their midst. It wasn’t their complaints that vexed God; it was their disregard for God’s gifts and the care God had provided.

Even so, it is hard to hear how God apparently had gotten fed up with their whining. I don’t know how to reconcile my understanding of who God is – One who loves God’s people unconditionally – with a God who swore never to destroy the earth again but apparently was ok making it more deadly or lethal. Maybe you have asked that same question.

I am comforted that the story doesn’t end with the vipers biting people and poisoning them with stinging venom or with the deaths that resulted from the serpents’ attacks.

Because when the people turned to Moses and confessed they had offended the Lord, Moses went to God and God instructed him to make a figure of a viper and place it on a pole, or a standard, and to tell people who were bitten to look up at the viper to be healed.

So when one cried out, “Ouch! One of those poisonous serpents just bit me” the response from God was not, “How could you be so stupid to let one of them bite you?” Instead, God offers healing and says, “Let me help you. Look at the serpent on the pole and be healed.”

I think it’s important God doesn’t respond by killing all the serpents or telling God’s people to barricade or hide themselves away from the vipers either. The people have to live in the world the way it is.

Our sin — the ways we turn in on ourselves and disregard God — has consequences. We face judgment and even death when we turn away from God and focus on ourselves. And we must confront our sin. We must confess and name the ways we participate in evil and perpetuate injustice.

The Good News is that while God doesn’t magically erase what we have done or the evil it has unleashed, God does make a way forward for us to find forgiveness and healing. God leads us out of the way of death and into the way of life.

Again and again, God transforms the things that bring death and kill us, and brings healing and life. The venomous serpent becomes a lifegiving sign for God’s people. The cross, an instrument of execution under the Roman emperor, becomes the open arms of God, welcoming all to know God.

In Jesus, God comes among us that we will know salvation, and the way of abundant life, through him. The life God offers isn’t about fire insurance against damnation, or even a heavenly, never-ending life. It is about being invited into the same relationship of mutual love and self-giving that we witness in Jesus’ own relationship to the Father.

In John’s gospel the way to the Father comes through the crucifixion, the resurrection and the ascension. It takes all of the pieces, not just the ones that are joyful and promise-filled, but the ones that bear agony and pain too.

Sometimes we go to great lengths to avoid looking at the things that bring death or kill, and we cannot imagine new possibilities. All we can see is the death in front of us. But John shows us that they are all parts of a whole, where God invites us to participate, to look up and see the transformation God is bringing.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who was lifted up on the cross to die and lifted up in the ascension to be with You. Thank you for loving us and giving life to all who turn to him in faith.

Give us courage to confess and name our sin and brokenness that we may be transformed by the gift of your love.

Amen.