Sermon March 18, 2012

Numbers 21:4-9

Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22

Ephesians 2:1-10

John 3:14-21

“Rich in Love”

It is easier

to gaze into the sun,

than into the face of the mystery of God.

Such is its beauty and its radiance.

God says:

I am the supreme fire;

not deadly, but rather,

enkindling every spark of life.¹

A few years ago, I attended a lecture series that spoke of a medieval theological topic called the beatific vision—which is basically the possibility of seeing God or while a person is still alive. They pondered the question in great detail, “Can we see God and survive the experience?” While affirming that people had visions sent by God, experiencing and receiving messages and images directly from God in dreams or other visions, they realistically wondered if those visions and messages were impaired or filtered because of a mortal person's limitations, frailty and mortality.

And the messages in today's scriptures seem to draw us toward the dangerous and mysterious nature of God, while reassuring us that God's mystery is set firmly into the unending and unquestionable love that God also has for us.

Weaving these scriptures together, as I often do in my mind, I hear the honestly frightening story from the book of Numbers, another book about Moses and the Israelites, where snakes invaded the camp of the Israelites and began to bite people, causing some to die. The reason given for their injuries and deaths is that they complained about their food, their journey to freedom and their God. The snakes were seen as just retribution for their complaints and ingratitude. I struggle with this, knowing that the punishment seems a little overboard for the sin. . . it's a hard thing to think about. But living our lives with God is a mystery, yes?

I struggle with the idea that diseases, injuries, sorrows and pains stem from the wrongs we do and the unintentional mistakes we make and yet sometimes, we all know that it's true. We know that sometimes we say awful things to a loved one and never have the opportunity to apologize before they are gone from our lives, causing them pain and hurting our own selves. We know that sometimes our behavior: overeating, smoking, lack of exercise, choice of foods, drug abuse, etc. contribute to the diseases we get. We know that we can make healthier choices and sometimes we don't. We know that risky behavior: driving fast or when our reflexes and reactions slow down, driving when eyesight starts to go or when we have been drinking, may cause us to injure ourselves or others. We know that holding onto the pain of betrayal causes us more pain than the one who betrayed us, but we still do it.

So we know that our choices, truly sinful or not, lead to consequences of pain, injury and even death. But there is more to our experience of this mysterious and dangerously powerful God. In the story from Numbers, God provides Moses with the cure to the disease. They made an image of the poisonous serpent and had to look at it—they had to face their injury and presumably face the consequences, face their complaint and just their validity to be freed from the pain and the possibility of death. God gave them mercy.

We also understand that pain, sorrow, disease and death also exist beyond our ability to connect them to consequences. Death comes without justice and certainly without any rational reason. We do cry out to God when the pain and suffering are without rational reason, knowing that what is happening to us to the people we love or to children too young to make evil choices, and others cannot be explained. We know that we live in a world where horrible bad things happen to undeserving people. And we know that in those situations, with those people and in those times, God is there loving them and we are called to be there, too.

But what I'm looking at and talking about today are those times when we are aware of the consequences of sin. We probably most often see them in others and can find ourselves pointing a judgmental finger, but perhaps, we need to check that response. What we might rather do is realize we can never see the whole context of another's situation, sometimes even those we are closest to. Instead of condemnation, perhaps we can realize that, "while some people have little margin for error when they choose unwisely, most of us have insulating margins of friends, resources, family, and sometimes dumb luck that protect us against the full consequences of our iniquities" (Feasting on the Word Year B, Vol 2). In a way, we're backing into gratitude, reflecting on the many gifts and blessings that insulate us from suffering the full effect of our mistakes, a different approach, perhaps, to Lenten self-examination, but also leading to greater generosity of spirit toward others.

Lent, of course, is a time to repent, to turn away, to begin again. Time in the wilderness, metaphorically or literally, and time in quiet prayer and reflection (one way to experience emptiness in an overloaded culture) helps us to focus our thoughts and expand our awareness of God at work in our lives.²

We do walk through this Lenten wilderness with God, sometimes echoing the ingratitude of the Israelites in this moment of pain by rejecting the blessings God has given us, despite our better natures. We also walk in this journey of Lent (and beyond) hoping to be changed by our experiences, to be made grateful for blessings even in the face of some consequence of the choices we or others have made.

So we continue in this journey, during Lent, during life in general, as last week's message, echoes the knowledge that we can't probably don't want to wrap our heads around all that God does and is doing all around us. And we are assured this week: God loves us with a steadfast love; God's presence in and among us is rich with love; God so loved, even this world of brokenness and sin that God sent us Jesus to reveal the fullness of how much that love could do, transform sin by grace, reveal hope in despair and defeat death by the power of resurrection.

Though we sin, we are forgiven and redeemed. Though we suffer the consequences of our selfishness and sin, we are given mercy beyond measure. Though we don't always recognize the love God gives us in Jesus Christ, we are freed by it to love all—even ourselves, even if we, too, are those who have not deserved it.

To the glory of God's love, grace and blessing. Amen.

1Gabriele Uhlein, O.S.F., Meditations with Hildegard of Bingen (Sante Fe, NM: Bear & Co., 1983), p. 25 in Resources for Preaching and Worship Year B., Hannah Ward and Jennifer wild, eds.

2http://www.ucc.org/worship/samuel/march-18-2012-fourth-sunday.html