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Sunday 20 February 2005

Serpents & Symbols

The Serpent in the Wilderness

“And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
John 3.14,15

Typology has a long and quirky tradition. It is a theologically risky practice. Typology has nothing to do with amateur printers; nor computer nerds obsessed by fonts - and there are many of them - you know who you are…

It is a system of biblical interpretation which the New Testament often uses in treating the Old Testament. The word is derived from the Greek word tupos, meaning pattern or figure. So Paul says in Romans 5.14 that Adam was a ‘type (tupos) of the one to who was to come’, ie of Christ.

The NT also uses the word ‘antitupos’ antitype. The writer to the Hebrews, a letter full of typology, says that “Christ did not enter a man-made sanctuary that was only an antitype of the true one; he entered heaven itself, now to appear for us in God's presence.” (Hebrews 9.14) And in Hebrews we learn that the mysterious Melchizedech, King of Salem who appears to Abraham, is an antitype of Christ.

The type or antitype, prefigures or foreshadows some historical event, or person, or object.

The Passover and the Exodus from Egypt provide a rich vein of material for NT typology.

The Passover foreshadows this meal; the Exodus sets the pattern for Christian salvation and the life of a pilgrim disciple.

Wherever you look in the world around us there are symbols: things that carry meaning beyond what they actually are. Eg. The Union Flag; Big Ben; even colours like pillar box red, or ORANGE! And of course, rainbows!

Churches of our tradition are full of symbols: and this church more than most and certainly more than the tin tabernacles of my youth - although so deep is the urge in humans to find and use symbols, that even there there were unmistakable symbols: the table, the open Bible, the pictures of Jesus on the cradle roll, the brass plaques on the walls.

When I was young, I always thought the serpent on a pole was a curious Christian symbol. Somehow it looked as if it should be in the local Satanist Temple and not with the other sacred symbols around the altar.

I stared at it at mass each day on the cross in the Seven Sorrows chapel at St Mary’s Bourne Street. And Bishop Richard has two serpents intertwined on his pastoral staff.

This is the symbol that Jesus uses when he’s talking to Nicodemus, who came to him at night to find out some of the answers to his questions about faith.
“And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.””
So what did Nicodemus make of it? He was an intelligent Pharisee, member of the Sanhedrin and prominent teacher. He would certainly have known the story of the murmuring rebels who got fed up with Moses and God.

The basic imagery is clear. The Israelites had sinned by rejecting God’s chosen leader, Moses. They were condemned to death by the snake bites (literally the ‘burners’ - inflammation?). Moses is instructed by God to make a copper effigy of the serpent and to raise it aloft on a pole - a standard for all to see, and so to live and be healed.

(This is why it’s the symbol for a chemist’s shop - where you get medicine for healing - & sometimes for doctors (although cf Asclepius) - and Barbers - who were the surgeons).

The story as you can read it in Numbers 21 contains deeper levels of imagery as well. The fiery serpent on the pole didn’t stop the people from being bitten, but it stopped them from dying if they looked with the eyes of faith to the pole.

The writer uses two different Hebrew words for ‘see’ (vv 8,9), and although this may be just literary style, the words do have significantly different emphases.

The second word carries overtones of perceiving, paying attention, even, looking with spiritual insight.

So there is nothing automatic about the deliverance - no magic - there is a degree of intentionality about the action of looking.

Sin infects us all, as the opening act of penitence of this Mass remind us. We are all bitten.

But we need not die spiritually – we need not be separated from God. God loves us so much, the Bible tells us, that he did something about it – he sent Jesus into our world, to be our Saviour & Friend.

There is an antidote to the bite of sin. Jesus had to be lifted up - on the cross - and in this sacrament - when the priest says ‘this is my body’ & ‘Jesus is the lamb of God’.

But it’s not magic - this is not the wonderful world of Harry Potter, where you can wave a wand and make everything alright.

The Christian life is about growing in faith. When we see how much God loves us, and what he went through in Jesus to put things right between us and God, then we choose to believe and follow him - living for God and living for others. The disciplines of Lent are to reinforce this within us.

It’s not saying the right words or doing the right things in themselves that save us - although they are important - it’s simply trusting God as Abraham did.

It’s believing in Christ, and however often we fall and sin again, coming to say sorry and making a fresh start. That’s what this mass, and confession, is all about.

It’s interesting to reflect on what happened to the bronze serpent. It was around for a few hundred years and then good king Hezekiah when he came to the throne at the age of 25, smashed the bronze serpent of Moses. (2 Kings 18.4)

The people had turned to vain idols and superstition and now worshipped the bronze serpent as ‘Nehushtan’ - they weren’t trusting in God any more, but in the magic of the gods.

We must always remember that all the symbols, all the imagery, everything we do in devotion - is not magic, or worse still, superstition. It’s to point us to Christ, to bring home that simple fact, that God loved us so much, that he gave Christ to die for us, so that we could live with him in heaven.

The symbols which we can see and grasp point to the eternal verities which we cannot easily see or grasp. The night in which Nicodemus came to Christ is replaced by the light of Christ in our Lord’s final words to Nicodemus – “whoever lives by the truth, comes into the light.” v.21

Well, there was obviously a long conversation with Nicodemus that went on far into the night. John has only summarised it here and shaped it to suit his purposes of unfolding the mystery of Christ. He has been careful with his use of language also.

The phrase ‘lifted up’ is ambiguous in the way John uses it, for it can mean both exaltation (triumphant heroes on shoulders) and – crucifixion.

Christ was bitten for us by the Serpent (one of the symbols for the Devil) and so raised to the glory of heaven where we will also sit and reign with him. (Ephesians 2.4-6)

So in just these few words, John paints a picture rich in Jewish history and Biblical imagery.

As we look again today at the crucified, glorified Christ, lifted up before us in the Sacrifice of the Mass - so we are healed.

We are not worthy, but he speaks the word and we find salvation, that deep inner wholeness which will only be fully realised when we are lifted up, and share in his glory in heaven.

“And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”
John 3.14,15

Wednesday 9 February 2005

Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday

"You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58.11

What is the purpose of Ash Wednesday; or for that matter for Lent?

The symbolism is obvious. The ash reminds us of the dust from which we were made and to which we will return. However we exalt ourselves, we are but mere mortals.

And it associates us with those who weep over their sins in sackcloth and ashes.

But much more than this, it has become in the annual life of millions of Christians down through the centuries, the beginning of seven weeks when we can take stock of our spiritual life. When we can tune up our walk with God. When we can help to restore that delicate balance between our oh-so-demanding flesh, and our weak but willing spirits.

So rather than preach a traditional sermon on this first day of lent, I want to remind you of the spiritual disciplines which can become the exercises that tighten our flabby spiritual muscles.

Lent can of course, be like joining a gym. We pay our dues, get the membership card and special offers pack; even buy new trainers and a designer track suit. And then feel proud to be part of that great gym membership which is not troubled by actually attending gym, and certainly not by doing any exercise!

The spiritual disciplines are the exercises – the machines in the gym if you like.

So here are a selection of the spiritual disciplines with a few comments on them.

First the disciplines of Abstinence:

Traditionally, the fathers and mothers of the church have seen the disciplines of abstinence as controlling the normal desires: food, sleep, bodily activity, companionship, curiosity, sex; and also the subtler desires: convenience, comfort, material security, reputation, fame and variety.

These disciplines of the Via Negativa are usually:
Solitude Silence Fasting
Frugality Chastity Secrecy
Sacrifice Vigil (Suffering) Rest

Then there are the more positive Disciplines of Engagement; the Via Positiva:
Study Worship Celebration
Service Prayer Fellowship
Confession Writing Work

A balanced diet of these disciplines over the Lenten period, and beyond, will make us healthier spiritually and prepare us for a joyful Easter.

And more than this, the disciplines will nourish our inner life and give us inner resources. Then we will find God’s promise to Isaiah becomes increasingly true in our growth in godliness.

"You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58.11

Rainer Maria Rilke wrote:
"You will disturb your development in a most violent manner if you expect answers from outside to questions which only the most secret feelings of your calmest hours can solve. I beg you to be patient with all the unsolved problems of your heart and to care for the questions themselves. Do not search for the answers to be given you; if given, they would be of no use, for you could not live them. For the present live in the questions and little by little and almost unconsciously you will enter the answers and live them also.”