A Story of Sin and Snakes

John 3:14-16

14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 

A Story of Sin and Snakes

Jesus spoke those words to a man by the name of Nicodemus. John introduces us to him at the start of Chapter 3 as a Pharisee and as a member of the Jewish ruling council. This was a man who knew his Old Testament, and knew it well.

Nicodemus had heard that story of Numbers 21 before. He grew up hearing about Moses and the Israelites. As a Jew, Nicodemus knew how the Israelites suffered as slaves to the Egyptians for 400 years. It was practically baked into his cultural identity.  

As a Pharisee, Nicodemus could probably recite from memory the 10 Plagues that God sent to convince Pharaoh to let his people go. Nicodemus knew how God miraculously parted the waters of the Red Sea. He knew the stories of manna and quail – how God miraculously provided bread every morning and meat every night. He knew how God provided water from a rock in a wilderness wasteland.

As a Jew, Nicodemus knew this story. As a Pharisee, he could probably recite it from memory. As a member of the Jewish ruling council, he didn’t need night classes with Jesus to teach him his own history. But as a sinful human being, Nicodemus still needed to be taught a lesson.

So, Jesus calls to mind what we read earlier in Numbers 21, i.e. how despite all the many miracles that God performed for his people morning and evening day after day for 40 years they still grew impatient; how they still lost their confidence in God; how despite the supernatural way that God provided for them, they still detested as miserable the food God gave them as a miracle. They complained and on more than one occasions they even had the gall to say that it would have been better for them to die than to live with the freedom and food God gave them.

Be careful what you wish for.

“Then the Lord sent venomous snakes among them; they bit the people and many Israelites died.”[2]

In a classic case of “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone,” it didn’t take these Israelites long to change their tune. Instead of continuing to complain,

“The people came to Moses and said, ‘We sinned when we spoke against the Lord and against you. Pray that the Lord will take the snakes away from us.’”[3]

Even the Israelites understood that God had every right to punish them. They had taken so much of what he had given them for granted. They grumbled about having food and fresh water every day. They were thankless, spoiled, ungrateful. But God was grace-full.

He could have left them to die in the desert. He owed them nothing. They deserved – and even, in a way, asked for – what they got. But God had mercy on them and forgave their sin. The Lord said to Moses, “Make a snake and put it up on a pole; anyone who is bitten can look at it and live.”[4] They didn’t have to pay a fine. They didn’t have to make a pilgrimage. They didn’t have to vow to do better. They just had to look and believe, and they would live. And that’s what happened.

Moses made a bronze snake and put it up on a pole. Then when anyone was bitten by a snake and looked at the bronze snake, they lived.[5]

It was a common enough story. Nicodemus had certainly heard it before. Just about every Jewish child could tell it. The question is, why would Jesus bring it up to Nicodemus now?

I mentioned earlier that Nicodemus was a Pharisee. If you didn’t know already, Pharisees were Jesus’ enemies. Although Pharisees were Jewish, just like Jesus, and although they put their faith in the Old Testament, just like Jesus, the Pharisees nevertheless differed from Jesus on a fundamental level.

Their name “Pharisee” comes from a word that means “pious.” These were people who were proud of their piety; they saw themselves as model citizens and exemplary believers. Their prided themselves in their obedience to the law of God and they considered themselves to be above reproach. They felt that nobody could accuse them of having done anything sinful or wrong.

But then Jesus comes with a message of sin and snakes, and it rattled the Pharisees. They didn’t like to hear Jesus say that no one is above reproach; that everyone is guilty of sin. They were deeply and personally offended at the implication. “We’re good people! We’ve dedicated our whole lives to God and his Law. How dare you suggest that we deserve to die for what we’ve done!” And from early on, the Pharisees plotted to kill Jesus.

That put Nicodemus in a tight spot. He was a Pharisee. Not only that, he was a member of the Jewish ruling council, i.e. part of the inner circle. He was undoubtedly part of the discussions about how to get rid of Jesus. But Nicodemus wasn’t so sure, so he went to visit Jesus – and have this conversation – under the cover of darkness so that no one could see him. He wanted to hear from the horse’s mouth what Jesus was all about. So, Jesus shares a message of sin and snakes.

“Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”[6]

We start with the gospel here. This is good news! But you have to know the story to understand why this is good news. If you just saw a sculpture of a snake on a pole, you might think, “Oh, that’s weird,” or maybe, “Oh, that’s pretty,” but you’re probably not going to cry, “Thank God for this snake on a pole!”

That’s what the Israelites thought when they saw it, though, because to them that snake symbolized God’s saving grace to them. They had been entitled, spoiled, selfish, ungrateful. But God had been grace-full and merciful to them. He did not punish them the way they deserved to be punished. He provided a way out of their sin and guilt, and at no cost to them. They didn’t have to do anything. They didn’t have to make any grand gesture or swear any solemn vows. They simply had to look and believe.

In a similar way, you have to know the story of Jesus to understand why “the Son of Man must be lifted up.” To see a man skewered on a cross you might think, “Oh, that’s horrible; that’s awful.” To see another human being beaten and naked and slowly dying of suffocation probably isn’t going to cause anyone to cry out, “Thank God for this public execution!”

But when you see Christ on the cross you can say just that, because now – because of Jesus – the cross symbolizes God’s saving grace to you. You may not be wandering in the wilderness after having been miraculously freed from 400 years of slavery, but I’m sure you know a thing or two about entitlement and ungratefulness.

God may not have bread miraculously rain down from heaven for you every morning, but he does still give you everything you need for life and breath every day. He puts food in your fridge and a roof over your head by giving you the skill of your hands and the help of your parents and friends, your spouse, your society. But do you find yourself grumbling and complaining about those gifts? Do you find yourself longing for something better, discontent with what you have?

It’s easy to become accustomed to a certain quality of life, to expect to have electronic devices and unlimited access to information and entertainment, to be able to travel and recreate and, in general, do whatever you want. But do you find yourself getting bristly when those things aren’t at your fingertips, i.e. anxious and angry when they’re withheld from you?

God gives us so much every day, but how often do we stop to say thank you? How aware are we of the gifts of his grace? It’s easy to become entitled. It’s easy to take things for granted. It’s even easy to begin to believe that we deserve only the good and best things from God because of how good we think we are. Not only are we blind to God’s goodness, but we so often fail to see our own sinfulness.

We deserve to be cut off from the goodness of God when we take his grace for granted. We deserve to be exposed to the threats and dangers of this world when we feel entitled to his protection. We deserve to be punished for being thankless and ungrateful. But thank God that Jesus is grace-full.

“Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”[7]

God didn’t need to save us. He didn’t owe us anything, but he gave us everything, just because he cares. He sent his Son to die on a cross for our sin, to be lifted up on an instrument of death to give you life. He sent his Son to take the punishment and penalty that you deserve so that you could be set free not from slavery but from sin, i.e. so that you could see how much he loves you.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.[8]

We may struggle with sin. We may slip into entitlement and ungratefulness on a daily basis. But our God is full of gracefulness – he shows us his love every day without demanding anything in return. You don’t need to make any grand gestures or swear any solemn vows. He merely shows you his Son on a cross for you and invites you to believe and live in him.

That’s what Jesus wanted this self-righteous but self-conscious Pharisee named Nicodemus to know. Even though Nicodemus was one of the enemy – even though Nicodemus was probably there on the night that Jesus was put on trial and sentenced to death by the Jewish ruling council – Jesus still loved him and showed him grace and mercy. And do you know where we see Nicodemus next? He’s the one who buried Jesus. The man who was so afraid of being seen with Jesus that he sought him out under cover of darkness, was seen by many taking Jesus’ lifeless body from the cross and laying it in the grave. What a change of heart these few words worked. What a difference it makes to know God’s love and grace.

May they work in your heart too, to remind you the cost of your sin but the grace of our God in Jesus, lifted up on a cross that you may believe and have eternal life in him. Amen.

[1] John 3:14

[2] Numbers 21:6

[3] Numbers 21:7

[4] Numbers 21:8

[5] Numbers 21:9

[6] John 3:14,15

[7] John 3:14,15

[8] John 3:16

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Jesus' All-Consuming Zeal

John 2:13-22

13 When it was almost time for the Jewish Passover, Jesus went up to Jerusalem. 14 In the temple courts he found people selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. 15 So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple courts, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. 16 To those who sold doves he said, “Get these out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a market!” 17 His disciples remembered that it is written: “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

18 The Jews then responded to him, “What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?”

19 Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.”

20 They replied, “It has taken forty-six years to build this temple, and you are going to raise it in three days?” 21 But the temple he had spoken of was his body. 22 After he was raised from the dead, his disciples recalled what he had said. Then they believed the scripture and the words that Jesus had spoken.

Jesus’ All-Consuming Zeal

A couple years ago – around this time of year, actually – Lydia and I were able to travel to Germany. It was amazing. We saw Neuschwanstein. We saw the Wartburg. Almost every city we went to had its own castle and its own cathedral.

It was amazing to sit in those cathedrals – during Lent, no less – and read a devotion in a different sanctuary every day. But, at the same time, it was a little depressing, because we were about the only ones there who were interested in prayer or worship. Most of the visitors were more interested in the building than the reason it had been built. Most would rather read the cathedral’s history than read the book the church was built upon.

Of course, it wasn’t always like that. When Martin Luther was roaming the German countryside in the early 1500s, going to church is just what you did. Those cathedrals would be packed with worshipers, and not just on Sundays.

But, in the fall of 1510, Luther took a trip quite like mine. While he was still a monk, Luther traveled to Rome. He was excited. He was eager to climb the scala sancta, the very steps that Jesus climbed on his way to see Pontius Pilate. Luther was anxious to see relics that supposedly held the bones of St. Peter and St. Paul. He wanted to say prayers and worship at all the holy places.

But when Luther arrived, the “holy city” left him feeling dirty. Literally. There was no public sanitation in Rome at the time. People would empty their chamber pots in the street, sometimes just tossing their human waste out the window. There was a stench that clung to the city, and what may have stunk worse than the sewage in the streets was the morality of its people. It was a cesspool of prostitution and greed. It was hardly what you would expect the capital of Christianity to look like.

Some things never change. Long before I – or Luther – could be disappointed in the beautiful but empty buildings, the outwardly attractive but the morally bankrupt lifestyles, the shallow and superficial religiosity – long before us, Jesus confronted the same thing in Jerusalem.

Jerusalem was the capital city of Judaism. Its crowning jewel was the temple on Mt. Zion. It was even being restored and renovated to new heights of beauty and majesty. But if you were to walk through the gates, before you noticed the gilded columns carved from massive pieces of stone and before you felt any sense of the vast and important history of that place, the first thing you probably would have sensed was the sound and smell of a stockyard.

Where there was supposed to be room for visitors to come and worship God, there were stalls that were crammed with sheep and cattle. Where there was supposed to be the sweet smell of incense rising to heaven with the prayers of faithful worshipers, there was the stench of manure and stale urine. Where you were meant to come to hear the Word of God from the mouths of priests, you heard merchants bartering with tourists and selling sacrificial animals for four times what they were worth.

It was a sham. It was a disgrace. It made Jesus’ blood boil with righteous indignation. So, he grabbed some ropes, made a whip, and began to thrash his way through the crowd, driving out the dishonest and greedy merchants.

Jesus was fired up for his Father’s house. Or, as the disciples remembered the prophetic words of Psalm 69, “Zeal for [God’s] house [would] consume [him].”[1] In other words, Jesus felt all the feels when he visited the temple that day, and this emotional outburst tells us how serious God is about sin.

And it wasn’t just that these people were ripping each other off, or taking advantage of tourists to make a profit. They were doing it in the temple! They were perverting the purpose of that place. They were bringing into God’s house their own greed for gain. So, Jesus drove them out at the tip of a whip.

Now, John doesn’t write this story as a cautionary tale for us about how to use the entryway of our church. God doesn’t even condemn all transactions that take place in the church. It was God himself who demanded sacrifices and commanded that Jews from other countries exchange their foreign money. So, you could say that those merchants and money changers were even necessary. But what this story does tell us is how zealously Jesus wants us to guard our time with God’s Word.

He wants us to be as zealous and jealous as he is when it comes to worship, so that we don’t turn God’s house into a place for our own gain. He wants us to be sincere when we come to hear his Word, and not just to go through the motions or maintain a shallow religiosity.

So, let me ask, what do we bring into the church that doesn’t belong here? It’s certainly not livestock, but maybe it’s an attitude that’s as stupid as sheep and as clueless as cattle. Maybe it’s a mindset that stinks like their manure, i.e. a mentality like those merchants in the temple that asks, “What’s in it for me?”

What should we drive from the church the way Jesus drove the dove sellers out? Is it a zeal for something other than what Jesus is zealous for? Is it an ideal that turns the church into a political weapon or a way to crusade for your pet social project? That’s not what God’s house is for.

Jesus is so zealous for our obedience, especially when it comes to what we do in and with his Father’s house, because this is where we hear his Word. This is where we learn his Law. This is where we see our sin and the many ways we break his commandments.

But Jesus is also zealous for this place, because this is where we hear the gospel of God. This is where we meet our Saviour. Where we often neglect worship and prioritize other parts of our lives over spending time in God’s Word, Jesus fulfilled every expectation, faithfully going to Jerusalem for every festival required by the law of God; he never missed a Sabbath Day. Where we can so often turn our time together into merely a social outlet or mostly an opportunity to campaign for or against the latest piece of news, Jesus loved his Father’s house for what it was – a place of prayer and worship, to hear God’s Word and grow closer to him.  

Jesus is zealous for God’s house, because this is where we see the true sacrifice for sins. We don’t need to offer sheep or cattle as the payment for sin anymore, because Jesus is the sinless Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Jesus paid the price for our sin with his life on the cross. Because of Jesus – no matter how we’ve broken God’s law, no matter how we’ve neglected or misused his house – we’re forgiven. Our sins are washed away. Our guilt is gone.

That’s why Jesus is so zealous for this place. That’s why Jesus wants us to value it the way that he did, to be fiercely protective of the proclamation of God’s Word. And the fact is that we can do that anywhere and in so many ways. We can do it with masks on our faces. We can do it over multiple services on a Sunday; our seats don’t need to be full. It doesn’t even have to be this building. We could go back to when our church was known as “The Bunker.” We could tear it down. Because our worship isn’t centered around a building; it’s built upon the cross of Christ.

And even though the Jews would tear him down and take his life, they couldn’t keep him down. Three years before it happened, Jesus predicted his resurrection three days after his death, and even though his disciples didn’t remember it until after the fact, that promise fulfilled gave them hope. It gave them the confidence to continue and persevere no matter what. It gave them the reassurance that their sins were in fact forgiven, that their Saviour lives, and that because he lives, we too will live forever with him in heaven.

I’ll always remember my time in Germany. I’ll look back fondly at the pictures of those big, beautiful churches. But spending 45 minutes here with you is better than 45 years there, because here, at least, we still hear God’s Word. Here we meet our Saviour and here we see his zeal – for his Father’s house, and for your soul.

God give you the same zeal as Jesus as you treasure his Father’s house. Amen.

[1] John 2:17

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