They're Still Here!

“Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” Numbers 21:8

They're Still Here!
By Rev. William Dohle

Imagine, for a moment, that you had to hire an exterminator for an infestation of scorpions in your apartment. Those dreadful little monsters with their frightening appearance and their poisonous sting. (Those of you in the midwest might not realize that this is a REAL problem in the southwest...like Arizona!) The exterminator comes with all of his equipment, checks out your place. Then, this is what he says...

"Yup! You've got a problem!"
"I know! It's terrible!" you say.
"Yup." he says simply.
"So, what are you going to do about it?"
"Well..." he muses. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" you shout. "But can't you kill them?"
"I could," he says. "But I'm not going to."
"Okay..." you say.
"Instead I'm going to give you this anti-venom. Whenever a scorpion stings you, just take this anti-venom and you'll be okay."

Sound absurd, right? Totally crazy?
But this is what happens in this story from the book of Numbers.

Once again the people of Israel are stranded out in the desert. And once again they're complaining.
"The people spoke against God and against Moses, “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.”(21:5)

God tires of their complaining AGAIN so, Numbers tells us, "Then the Lord sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died."(21:6)

Pretty harsh punishment for complaining, huh? (No wonder people keep most of their complaints to themselves. If they knew this story, they'd be afraid!)

So the people repent. They now know they've been wrong. "The people came to Moses and said, “We have sinned by speaking against the Lord and against you; pray to the Lord to take away the serpents from us.” So Moses prayed for the people."(21:7)

Pray to the Lord to take away the serpents from us. Sounds reasonable, right? After all, the people did repent. God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Surely he'll listen and like a great divine exterminator rid the people of Israel of this dreadful curse.

But no. He doesn't. Instead, this is what Moses is instructed to do.
"And the Lord said to Moses, “Make a poisonous serpent, and set it on a pole; and everyone who is bitten shall look at it and live.” So Moses made a serpent of bronze, and put it upon a pole; and whenever a serpent bit someone, that person would look at the serpent of bronze and live."(21:8-9)

God doesn't remove the serpents or kill them. He doesn't get rid of the pest problem the Israelites now have. Instead, God provides an antidote for them. An anti-venom. All they need to do is take it(look at the serpent of bronze) and then they'll be okay.

That's the story...
Now, there are many interpretations of this story. One Christians are most familiar with. The New Testament(particularly the gospel of John) interprets this passage and focuses on the bronze serpent.
" 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)

In doing so, the Gospel of John likens Jesus lifted up on the cross to the bronze serpent that everyone who looks upon him and believes may have life. This passage becomes one of many prophecies to Jesus and what will happen to him on the cross.

That's how Christians are use to hearing this story. But here's my question...and one I've never heard asked or wrestled with.
Why doesn't God remove the serpents in the first place?

It seems kinda odd to me that Moses is instructed to make a bronze serpent and set it on a staff and tell the people to look upon it when they get bit to live. Wouldn't it have been easier to just get rid of the snakes like they prayed would happen to begin with? After all, they weren't there in the beginning! They were sent by God as a punishment for Israel's disobedience and when Israel repented, surely those snakes could have been dealt with. Why would God provide such an odd anti-venom with no end to the trouble at hand? Why not just dispose of the snakes?

Well maybe, just maybe, the ever-present serpents' presence in the story has an even greater meaning. Maybe it speaks to life today.

We have, among us, the same serpents that we've always had. Hatred abounds in our world. One people is set against another people. Military occupations abound. Wars are everywhere. Intolerance is everywhere. In a way, you could say, we haven't really changed much since the times of Moses. People do just what they did back then. Those pesky serpents are still among us. Still biting us and poisoning our lives. And we still need to look to God to rid us of their poison.

But there's something else here too. A solution to the serpent problem that isn't spoken about in the text itself but might be implicitly there. Maybe instead of living with these snakes and dealing with their constant biting presence, maybe the people are being implicitly told to kill them themselves.

Maybe God is saying: "I'll provide you with the anti-venom. You won't die. Gaze upon me and you will live. But getting rid of the snakes is your problem. I know you can do it. I'll remedy its poison, so it doesn't darken your life, but as long as you just stand there, those serpents will always be a problem for you."

And so God sets the task of exterminating the serpents to us and gives us the strength to deal with their poison. And it has happened. The serpents of this world have met an end by the hands of ordinary people. An ordinary businessman, Oscar Schindler, worked to kill the serpents of hatred and save over a thousand Jews from the hands of the Nazis. A simple nun, Mother Theresa worked to kill the serpents of poverty in the streets of Calcutta. Another businessman, this time a Jew, Steve Maman, is working to free sex slaves of ISIS one girl at a time.

And the list goes on and on.

We are called, each and every one of us, to cut off the head of the serpents at our feet. To kill the hatred and the bitterness, the war and the violence, the pride and the selfishness that we see. To do our part at changing the world for the better. The task seems impossible. Those pesky serpents aren't easy to kill and sometimes have a hard time staying dead. There's more snakes then you can possibly kill alone too. But together, and with God's help and strength, we might rid the world of the snakes around us, work against the poison of this plague and finally live in peace with one another.

Holy God, thank you for providing an antidote to the problem of our serpents. Give us strength to face down our snakes, to fight against hatred and violence and all the rest of the serpents that nip at our heels. Amen.

A Letter to Aaron

Then the Lord said to Moses and Aaron at Mount Hor, on the border of the land of Edom,  “Let Aaron be gathered to his people. For he shall not enter the land that I have given to the Israelites, because you rebelled against my command at the waters of Meribah. Take Aaron and his son Eleazar, and bring them up Mount Hor; strip Aaron of his vestments, and put them on his son Eleazar. But Aaron shall be gathered to his people, and shall die there.” Numbers 20:23-26

A Letter To Aaron
By Rev. William Dohle

Dear Aaron,

You don't know me, but I follow in your footsteps. You see, I too serve God's people as a priest. I'm not Jewish. I'm Christian. And they don't call us priests, but pastors, but basically they're the same thing. We are spiritual leaders of God's people, the same as you.

As a spiritual leader I have faced many of the same temptations as you did. I have been tempted to adapt my message and please my audience, as you did at Sinai when you made the golden calf. I have been tempted to denigrate those in authority over me, as you did to Moses when you spoke against him and sided with Mirium. And I have been tempted to disobey God's command, as you did at the waters of Meribah.

Not only have I been tempted, Aaron, but I've fallen into those same traps. I have adapted my message, sometimes on the fly during a sermon, and refrained from saying something that I knew might make someone upset. I have made for myself and others "golden calfs", physical signs of God's presence to bow down and worship instead of trusting in the mysterious presence of God. I too have spoken against those above me, knowingly and unknowingly. And I too have disobeyed God's commandment to trust.

I have failed just as you did, Aaron. I am wrong. I need forgiveness.

And reading your story gets me worried. You see, Aaron, people haven't changed in the thousands of years that have passed since you walked the earth. They're just as stubborn as they were in the wilderness. For many people, their pursuit of God takes a backseat to everything else going on in their lives. I know because they've told me so. They'd rather party with the golden calf than wait patiently below the mountain for a word that may never come.

People today remember things falsely too, thinking as your people did that things were so much better in the past. Looking with rose colored glasses at all the pain and suffering that they endured back then, they forget the present and concentrate on the past.

You stood up to that. You stood up for years in the midst of your people, proclaiming God's love and redemption and presence among them. You lived with people whose priorities are so much like the people I know. And I'm worried that, just as you were remembered at the end of your life, not for the good you did, but for your mistake at the waters of Meribah, so I too may be remembered by my mistakes and not for the good I do.

Aaron, I have no idea how many times you succeeded and how many good sermons you gave your people in the wilderness. I don't know how much you loved and cared for them. I don't know much of the good you did. But I know your mistakes. Those are the things we remember. Those are the things written down for us.

Sadly, at the end of your life, your time with Moses before Pharaoh was forgotten. It was your mistake at Meribah they remembered. It was for this reason God prevented you from entering into the Promised Land.

I'll never see that promised land either, I'm afraid. I'll stand on the mountain of life and pass on the mantle of leadership to another. I'll never see the promised land for myself, for I am a product of my own generation and my own time. Neither you, nor Moses, ever passed into the Promised Land. Maybe it was because of your mistake at Meribah. Maybe you always kicked yourself for what transpired there. Or maybe it was because you were a product of your own time and the promised land, being promised and not fulfilled, is always for another.

In any case, though I know God forgave me and has forgiven you for your mistakes, I still wonder: How will I be remembered? What will this people, still stubborn yet blessed and precious in God's sight, think of me when I pass on?

And do they worry about that? Do they wonder how they'll be remembered? Are they, at times, nervous or scared to make mistakes fearing that those mistakes will mark them as they marked you? Maybe they have that same worry... Maybe not...

As for me, I hope that I'm remembered as you are. Whether I succeed or not. Whether my sermons were good and interesting, or dry and boring. However I'm thought of, I hope I'm remembered standing up on that mountain top, stripped of all the pomp and circumstance of life, yet content to be up there with God with even a glimpse of the kingdom God has promised to bring.

May I trust my memory and my life to God, just as you did.

Gracious God, your faithful servant, Aaron, was gathered to his people just as you gather all of us. Help us trust you with the future so that we might work together for good in the present, not worried about what others think but confident in your grace and love for us. Amen.