A friend of mine told me a story about an In and Out burger place that holds this special place of importance for his family. They commonly visit this In and Out on road trips with their kids. For their two girls, going to the In and Out is the most important thing. It’s an almost sacred ritual.

 

Well, on this particular road trip, the girls were fighting in the backseat from the beginning. It was getting bad enough that Dad, my friend, pulled the car over. Uh oh. Never a good sign when your parents have to pull the car over. Eventually Dad works out a compromise to keep the peace and the sanity in the car. He told them if neither of them said a single word until they got to In and Out they could still go. Otherwise, they were going to lose the privilege.

 

Two hours of silence? What kids in the world could pull this off? And yet the stakes were high. They were about to lose In and Out. These girls actually stayed silent for two whole hours, got their In and Out, and Mom and Dad actually had a pleasant two hours themselves. That’s the power of In and Out, apparently.   

 

Our first reading today is a lot like the In and Out story.

 

Quick reminder of what’s happening here. The Israelites had been led out of their enslavement Egypt by Moses and the people entered into a long wilderness time (40 years) before they were allowed to enter the promised land. This story starts in Exodus, so by the time we get to Numbers, we have had multiple instances where the people were complaining about how hard their lives were in the desert with Moses.

 

This is a particularly good line. “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.” Does this not sound like a child whining about starving when they are literally surrounded by food that they didn’t buy or hunt or grow or prepare?

 

You can practically hear the Israelites lamenting, “Are we there yet?” And because this has already happened multiple times, this text is sort of like Dad or Mom pulling the car over.

 

Now there will be consequences for all the whining coming from the backseat. Well, in this case, there were snakes. Not just poisonous snakes, but fiery ones. (That’s the actual translation, fiery snakes.)

 

To save the people, God does not take the snakes away but tells Moses to hold up a bronze snake as a reminder of God’s role in their lives. This really isn’t that different from my friend using In and Out as a way to keep the peace within that car.

 

Both the Israelites and my friend’s kids needed something to focus on that was bigger and more important than just the irritations of the moment. They needed help keeping their eyes on the prize.

 

For the girls, In and Out was that big promise, the big idea that helped them work together to be quiet. In and Out was also a slice of salvation for those parents for two blessed hours in the car. For the Israelites, the promise was the promised land. The promise was a loving relationship with God who promised good things for them, promised new life, promised a life of flourishing for their sake and for the sake of all the world through God’s people. This is a big promise! And there were mad about the manna being boring food.   

 

Maybe you’re thinking my friend should not have bribed his daughters with fast food to be silent. I’m sure it wasn’t the parent’s plan for the day. Likewise, it may sound weird for God to tell Moses to make something that feels very close to an idol to hold up for the people.

But perhaps everyone, and maybe also God in this case, has their limits and our ideals of how to do things fall apart. Sometimes we do what we have to do to keep our focus on what’s most important.

 

In the John text, we are told that Jesus is like Moses’ snake, being held up on the cross to focus the hearts and minds of the people. Jesus is the promise and the big idea.

 

The big idea and promise of Jesus is indeed bigger than just eternal life, which is…you know…pretty big. That is a big promise and I don’t want to minimize that promise in any way. But the promise is also for this life now, while we are here, to be saved by grace. Paul writes in today’s letter, “But God, who is rich in mercy, out of the great love with which he loved us ⁵even when we were dead through our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.” We are made alive now.

 

So, when we’re in the back seat of a road trip that feels way too long and we’re starving despite all the food around us and we’re lamenting, “Are we there yet?”, Jesus tells us yes, we are. The Kingdom of God is here, closer than our own breath. The gift of salvation is here. We don’t even need to wait for In and Out for two hours. It’s here, it’s given.

 

This is a mystery, particularly for those of us who come to church today feeling like God is very far away. Some of us may be feeling like God has told us to be silent or we will indeed be bit by fiery snakes. For some, the Kingdom may not seem real at all.

 

We experience the reality of this mystery in the transformation of our lives while we are alive. The mystery is that we can be made new to live in ways that embody Christ, that allow the expression of Christ to indeed be our expression.

 

The mystery lies in letting our old identities, our old ways of doing things, our old rigid ideas, our old truths to soften and be remade in the image of Christ.

 

For the Israelites, part of their suffering in the desert had to do with letting their identity as Egyptians go, marginalized and abused though they were. We read in the Hebrew Bible through the long years in the desert, the Israelites kept longing to go “home,” remembering Egypt with rose-colored glasses. Apparently, they needed a reminder to stay focused on the promise that was bigger than the leeks and melons they were missing. Why God chose fiery snakes, I’m not sure. When you’re in these situations, you do what you got to do, like bribe children with In and Out.

 

I believe John is saying the same thing of Jesus on the cross. John is telling us, “Look at the cross and be changed, be healed, be brought back into life now and for always.”

 

Too easily we can see our choice of following Jesus to be a personal decision that only affects our own life. We can also see it as a decision that is most important to our souls after we die.

 

However, this is making God’s action in our lives too small. We are made new for the sake of ourselves, but also for the sake of those who we can serve. We are given the gift of eternal life in our days to come, but also in the present eternity, the present Kingdom of God that is closer than our breath. And in that space, we can relax our grip on fear and open our hearts to love.

 

We are being given a big, bold promise that is ultimately not just for ourselves, but for the sake of the world. The promise is not just for our personal lives, but that Christians can indeed change the world for the better by allowing ourselves to be reborn into a new identity that is focused on God’s justice and love for all people.

 

Friar Richard Rohr is quoted as saying on this question:

“Christianity is a lifestyle – a way of being in the world that is simple, non-violent, shared, and loving. However, we made it into an established “religion” … and avoided the lifestyle change itself. One could be warlike, greedy, racist, selfish, and vain in most of Christian history, and still believe that Jesus is one’s “personal Lord and Savior” … The world has no time for such silliness anymore. The suffering on Earth is too great.”

 

I love that he calls this silliness, like the girls in the backseat of my friend’s car, like the Israelites whining that they are starving while eating manna. We can cling to our old ways, old ideas. We need a reminder of the bigger promises. We need the cross.

 

God’s promises are not just for us. It is about our families, communities, and the world. With our eyes on the cross, we can be remade, reborn, and enter into new life with Christ. The promise is for today, for this very moment.

 

That said, the change in us, the change in our identities and our old ways of life may not change in a moment or in a flash. That’s OK. I think it’s telling that the Israelites needed 40 years in the desert to make this transition. It’s telling that Christians over the centuries come to church every week, listen to the stories of Jesus and Moses over and over, travel through the journey of Lent, death, and resurrection over and over.

 

We need these reminders, this community, and this practice to be disciples. Unlike In and Out, God’s promises are too big for us to take it in all at once. And because the journey may feel long some days, may we be gentle with ourselves and each other as God continues to change our hearts and minds for the sake of ourselves and the whole world.

 

 

AMEN