rich’s blog

woof!  This was a long one! 

 

Message:

 

Let’s Pray!

 

Pray: 

Oh Jesus: for your glory, and your people.  Absence me away; and make thy grace exceed what we deserve. 

 

Picture:

I want to show you a beautiful picture.  

 

(picture)

 

Isn’t this beautiful?  The Italian countryside. It’s beautiful, right?  Or at least nice. 

 

Oh!  And there’s power lines.  We don’t notice those, though, do we?  They’re just part of the scene, part of the picture.  

 

Maybe I’m the only one, but I never notice power lines; they’re just part of the scene.  It’s been ages since I’ve really seen a power line; looked at it and thought about it and wondered what is up with power lines all over the place, intruding into all these beautiful pictures, and how does my microwave fit into this? 

 

But they’re everywhere, aren’t they? These power lines.  As many power lines as there are beautiful pictures they show up in. Let’s look at some more! 

 

(picture)

(picture)

(picture)

 

I like pictures.  The world is full of them.  We could look at all sorts of pictures this morning, pictures taken at all sorts of places, say, sports arenas: 

 

(picture: john)

(picture: john)

(picture: john)

 

Noticing?

Ah, sports arena crowds.  Fun groups.  What I don’t have is a picture of that one guy holding up that one John 3:16 sign.  You know what I’m talking about right?  And it’s cool that I couldn’t find one anyway, since only a few of us would have even really noticed the sign. We’d either “Ah.  That’s nice” or maybe “Oh, look at the crazy person!” and we’ll move on.

 

Just as many of us, probably more, have seen so many games that we just don’t notice the signs anymore.  They’re just fixtures in the modern crowd, every crowd has one or two; and sports crowds have three; and they’re just there, like power lines crossing through a beautiful view. We don’t notice them, really.  They don’t cause us to reflect on John 3:16, anymore than power lines cause us to reflect on appropriate energy consumption. 

 

And this way that we don’t notice power lines fits together well with the way we don’t notice John 3:16 signs; because signs or bible signs fits together well, because this passage that we’re talking about today, John 3:16 points to a power that is significant, and big, and beyond us. 

 

And not noticing John signs fits with not noticing power lines, because if we really stopped to think about this little verse, a verse that we have such a high exposure to and tolerance of that we seldom even see it anymore, we’d realize that it points to something as full of energy and power as they lines that run all over the place.  

 

Today: Two Parts

So today what we’ll do is talk about this verse; and we’ll discuss it’s meaning and the power it points toward.  We need to do this, because the world is flooded with this verse; and we just don’t really see it anymore.  It’s turned into scenery. 

 

But I’ll also present a perspective or two that we need to be aware of if we’re going to engage well with the world; difficult perspectives on the things of today’s passage, ones we may not be familiar with, but need to examine. 

 

So: Two parts to today’s message.  The First is what do we do with this verse we’ve seen so much we’re blind to it.  And the Second is what do we do when faced with difficult questions that come up when we discuss it. 

 

So.  Our passage.  I’m reading from Today’s New International Version. 

 

Our Passage: 

Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man. 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.” 

 

    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. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. All those who do evil hate the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But those who live by the truth come into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God. (john 3:11-21, tniv)

 

Transition: 

Today’s passage clearly isn’t the start of a conversation, right? It’s in the middle of one.  And we’ll review the whole conversation this morning, have a look at context; but first we do need to mention some really basic information about the fourth gospel. 

 

Johnny-come-lately: 

So. The gospel of John. It was floating around the ancient world in the early 100s; but didn’t become really, really popular until around 180.  

 

People were originally a little wary of John’s gospel; it is so different from Matthew, Mark, & Luke–what are called the “synoptic gospels.” Synoptic means “same view,” and these three take a really similar view of Jesus, right?  But Jesus in John’s gospel seems other-worldy, almost: transcendent–at least on first glance, anyway.  And people just didn’t hold as tightly to the fourth gospel.  And it’s simply the case that while John did likely know about these other gospels and the traditions that are alive in them, he probably also had some unique traditions of his own, that were important to his own Christian community, and much of John the gospel depends on these (Cf. O’Day, 502, NIB). And John’s community was probably one much like Matthew’s: a group of Jews, who have trusted in and followed Jesus, but find, now, that they are derided for it, persecuted and made to be outsiders. (cf. O’Day, 505). 

 

But as Christianity spread and met with various other religions, gnosticism started to grow and spread, too.  We talked about gnosticism a little when we talked about Marcion, that guy who took a sharpie to the New Testament.  And I’m painting in broad strokes here, but gnosticism depended on “gnosis” or knowledge, in every case.  And the idea was that there was a secret knowledge that various groups had, a secret, private tradition that members of gnostic Christian groups had about Jesus.  And this private knowledge about Jesus trumped any public knowledge that you could find just anywhere, you know: in any “gospel” that happened to be laying around or any little house-church that you found.  Of course, sometimes common, public things are special, right? Water, Air, the good news about Jesus for all tribes, tongues, and nations.  Whatever.  

 

But gnosticism emphasized the spiritual, inner-life of people over against the tangible, physical, skin & bones world; and a really superficial reading of the gospel of John seems to promote this same thing: so the church-at-large originally avoided it a little.   

 

Then they realized that in fact, for all it’s concern about the Holy Spirit and it’s intangible transcendental stuff, it cares totally that Jesus had a body, that we actually “do good deeds” in this life and avoid “evil deeds.”  Things like “the word becoming flesh,” like turning water into wine, like washing people’s feet–Jesus cares about this stuff, and the church realized that “Hey, we can challenge gnosticism–which says Jesus doesn’t care about physical stuff at all–with the very same Gospel they claim supports their views.”  So after that, man: the whole church loved the thing. They could use it like we use vaccines. 

 

Authorship:

Internally, the fourth gospel claims to be written by a disciple who received his testimony from “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” an anonymous disciple who was clearly close to Jesus, and was able to give the author of John an eyewitness account to the life of Jesus.  This similar to the way the gospel of Mark is thought to be written by one of Peter’s disciples.  We have this close eyewitness, who testifies to us about Jesus, and we record it for our Christian community. 

 

Over time this disciple became associated with John the son of Zebedee that we can read about inside the gospels.  It probably wasn’t written by this John; but, as one scholar notes, “What is known about the author of this Gospel, is that he understood himself to be connected to the traditions about Jesus through the eyewitness testimony of the beloved disciple, that he held the beloved disciple’s testimony to be rue, and that he regarded the transmission of the testimony to be an act of faith.”–the author has cast his lot with the Jesus he tells us about here, and wants us to be able to do the same things. (NIB, O’Day, 500)

 

We’re told these things about Jesus so “that [we] may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing [we] may have life in his name.”  And we do see over and over in John that what the author cares about is drawing us into the meaning of Jesus’ life.  The same scholar I noted before says that “…for John, the value of the events of Jesus’ life and ministry likes in their theological significance–what they reveal about God–and not in the events in and of themselves.” (NIB, O’DAY, 495).

 

And today’s passage is one of the things that we’re told about that should help to believe, and have life in Jesus’ name.  An event that carries theological significance for us, or should. So let’s look at today’s passage in light of this hope John has for us as we engage with it. 

 

Today’s Conversation:  

We already mentioned that the passage Carolyn read to us this morning is partial; it’s the tail end of a conversation that Jesus is having with Nicodemus; a “teacher of Israel,” Jesus calls him, maybe mockingly: but a “Pharisee,” we’re told, a “Ruler of the Jews,” who comes to Jesus at night, when no one can see him quite as easily.  So he shows up: and here’s what happens: 

 

Introduction: Scene Set-up (3:1)

Body: 

Nicodemus Speaks (3:2)

Jesus Responds (3:3)

Nicodemus is Confused (3:4)

Jesus Clarifies (3:4-8)

Nicodemus is Still Confused, Asks Again (3:9)

Jesus is Surprised (3:10)

Jesus Clarifies Again (3:11-15)

Conclusion:

Commentary (3:16-21)

 

Noting Some Things: 

And we could look at so many things relating to this exchange Jesus & Nicodemus have; we’ll focus on the commentary section today, 3:11-21, but there are some things we could talk about if we wanted to, if this were a different message. 

 

We could talk about being “born again.”  What it means to be born again; because of course, this dialogue–if we can call one person speaking cryptically and another person being confused the whole time a dialogue–is where the phrase “born again Christian” comes from.  I think Jesus would point out that the phrase is a little redundant; you’re either following him, a Christian, born again, or you’re not.  But we could talk about this. 

 

And if we talked about it, we’d want to talk about the phrase Jesus uses when he tells Nicodemus that “no one can see the Kingdom of God” unless they are either “born again,” or “born from above”–because the phrase can mean either of these. 

 

And what he probably means for Nicodemus to understand is that Nicodemus must be born “from above,” must have a “Spiritual” in the sense of “Holy Spirit based” renewal if he wants to come under God’s capable and loving ruling power, if he wants to be an insider–John is full of insider/outsider imager–light/darkness, “the Jews” as outsider Israelites, “them over there.”  

 

But Nicodemus thinks Jesus is talking about really, physically, getting back in your mom’s womb and, you know, getting born again. And if we are mothers in this room–or, geeze, anyone?–we’re probably thankful that Jesus is in fact not being literal, and Nicodemus misunderstands him.  And we would have too, probably.  Let’s own that: because as Haenchon notes, the Spirit wasn’t even given to Jesus’ disciples until after the resurrection. 

 

Jesus has to clarify all this for Nicodemus; he talks about the Spirit for a while, and makes it clear that Spirt-filled people–like himself–understand Spirit-based stuff.  And Nicodemus can’t get what he’s talking about.  But we as John’s original audience, would be excited, because we know that we’re Spirit-filled people: and we in this room are, too, right? 

 

So maybe we could talk about born anew Christians?  But even then it would be redundant, I think.  For Jesus, his followers, those who “see the Kingdom of God” and those who are born from the Spirit are the same people.  

 

But let’s talk about 3:11-21; Jesus’ long clarification of Nicodemus’ further confusion: and remember, we’re looking at this passage today because we have seen it so often it’s become scenery to our Christian lives, we don’t see it anymore. 

 

Our Passage: Set Up

 

Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven—the Son of Man. 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.” (John 3:11-14 TNIV)

 

So Jesus has had this conversation with Nicodemus; and Nicodemus is all confused, and in 3:10 has just had his credibility and wisdom as a “teacher of Israel” questioned by Jesus, and he goes on to basically say in our passage, 

 

“Look Nicodemus, I know what I’m talking about.”  And we as members of John’s community, insiders, would identify with this “we” Jesus uses here, and all the various confrontations we’ve had with outsiders over Jesus would trigger in our minds as Jesus begins to speak in 3:12.  

 

And Jesus continues, speaking with Nicodemus, “And anyway, Nicodemus, If I’m speaking to you in your native language about stuff nearby and you don’t get it, what makes you think you’ll understand me speaking about stuff you’ve never seen in a language you don’t understand?”  This is sort of a gentle slap-in-the-face for this Pharisee, this leader of the Jews, isn’t it? 

 

“But I am a native speaker of the stuff I’m talking about, Nicodemus.  No one but me knows what I’m talking about; because nobody but me–the Son of Man”–has “gone into heaven.”  Jesus is the ultimate insider, right?  The only one who has been right in the presence of God.  

 

And then Jesus goes on to say this: 

“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.” (John 3:14 TNIV)

 

Jesus talks about being “lifted up” throughout this gospel. And he’s talking about his crucifixion, something made clear in chapter 12 of the gospel. 

 

But he’s making a reference here to something that happened while Moses was leading the Israelites in the wilderness, on the way to the promised land, after they had been freed by God from slavery in Egypt.  

 

And a difficult scene takes place that we can read about in the book of Numbers: the Israelites start complaining.  They get impatient on their way to the promised land–which is amazing, considering they just spent 400 years in slavery, and their travel to the promise land is a blip by comparison–and they begin to distrust God, and this complaining spirit just overtakes all of them, you know: they hate the food God’s given them, they hate the water, they’re bitter: and we read that “Then the Lord sent poisonous serpents among the people, and they bit the people, so that many Israelites died.” (Num 21:6 NRSV).  They come to their senses quickly, which is what God apparently hoped for, and God gives them a remedy for the bites.  

 

“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.” (Num 21:8-9, NRSV). 

 

Jesus, who as we noted is aware of his impending crucifixion, draws parallels between himself and this bronze serpent. He’ll be lifted up, and all those who are filled with metaphorical poison–which seems to be everyone but the Son of Man, everyone but Jesus–can escape death, and turn to him on the cross, believe in the work that he’s done for them, and be freed from death.  This isn’t some really complex hidden secret, right?  Jesus is going to be lifted up, and just like the snake was, he’ll provide healing for those who turn to him in need.  Except that his healing is eternal, not temporary. 

 

And then we get into the commentary on this passage.  Now; it’s not completely clear if Jesus is saying this commentary or if someone else is, but it’s likely, given the fact that often after Jesus has these sorts of dialogues in John commentary follows them, that this is the same thing; the author is commentating on what Jesus has just said about himself.  

 

Our Passage: Commentary 

 

    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. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. All those who do evil hate the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. But those who live by the truth come into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God. (John 3:16-21, TNIV)

 

So what can we say about John 3:16?  Whoever believes in Jesus will be freed from death like an Israelite was freed from death: only Jesus’ work isn’t oriented negative, toward how you can get out of death, how Jesus brings judgment with him; it’s oriented toward what you can get, eternal life, and freedom from the judgment all humanity is already under (cf. Haenchen for this insight: “Yet this judgment, which simply sets in with logical necessity, is not the purpose in sending Jesus” (Haenchen, Hermeneia, John 1, 205).  Jesus is lifted up, by God, in order to save the lot of us who are dying, poisoned up by sin and the evil one, a serpent itself. 

 

John’s basic understanding of things is that the world is under condemnation. Our basic state as humans is that we are lined up judgment, lost in darkness: He’s not out to prove this, it’s just the case.  

 

And John goes on after this verse to remind us about the way we need to be insiders, people of the light, not people of the darkness.  And he’s not living in 2008, wanting to make sure that we recognize you can be a good person without being a Christian.  He is a voice for a persecuted minority of Jews who are being shunned and dismissed and hurt for their faith; as far as he’s concerned, those who haven’t joined them are living in darkness, and avoiding the light because they are evil and don’t want to be exposed.  Ernst Haenchen notes that John is basically saying “Good people turn to Jesus, evil people don’t.” (205)  This is right in line with Paul’s statement that “the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”  (1 Cor 1:18 NRSV). 

 

But we, us, we’re children of the light, we’re insiders, we’ve looked at the lifted up Son of God and believed in what the cross has enabled for us.  We’ve escaped condemnation and darkness, while other people are hanging out in it, as stained and messy with condemnation and darkness as the day they were borne.  But attending to Jesus, who has been lifted up, has draws us toward a “born from above,” Spirit-centered, believing-in-Jesus life. Paul exclaims, about this crucified Jesus and the cross he was lifted up on: “Messiah!  The power of God and the wisdom of God!” 

 

So: simple application of this, really.  Next time you see John 3:16, don’t let it be scenery.  Notice it.  Because of the cross, because of Jesus being lifted up, you are healed from a poison that you couldn’t have gotten rid of otherwise, and if you keep your eyes on this exalted Son of Man, the one who can speak truly of heavenly things because he is of heaven, you’ll begin to learn his language, and begin to understand light, and taste the Kingdom of Heaven–and eventually, you’ll gain eternal life; the life of the age to come.  In the meantime, we live as best as we’re able this life, avoiding “evil works” and the judgment associated with them. 

 

Notice! 

Notice what this verse means, next time you see, it okay? It can be a verse that reminds us that we have escaped darkness and live in light, a life of the Spirit that couldn’t have happened without Jesus time on the cross. 

 

Making Signs: 

And realize that John 3:16 may not be the best evangelism verse in the world. If, in fact, an encounter with Jesus is the thing that separates out people who like darkness and stay there, or who join a life of light, maybe we need to be people who are really becoming like Jesus, living in the Spirit so deeply, maybe we need to become the signs that we hold out to people, so that when people encounter us they are challenged to do one of two things: 

 

Either to look through us, up at Jesus on the Cross and so end up healed, or instead not look up at Jesus at all.  Our task then is to live in a way that reveals Jesus being “lifted up.”  And its up to us as a community to figure out how to do that, right?   (cf. Haenchen 205: ”the decisive determination of man occurs only in the encounter with God’s revelation” ). 

 

If we notice this verse it can really be fodder for all sorts of good reflection on our lives. 

 

So Jesus is here to draw us out of the basic state of humanity.  The cross has a role in this process which is just so important; but how we understand what happened on the cross is a big question: the Bible talks about what happened on the cross in different ways, theologians construct different meanings for the Cross. And it can be difficult for us to talk about the Cross. 

 

Part Two: Difficulties & the Mechanics of Salvation: 

 

And while saying “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. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” can be an easy thing to say, to recite quickly without thinking about it–although we just talked about how much meaning it could have for us–it can also raise some difficult questions we should be prepared to face.  

 

Last Week:

It could be difficult because of things we talked about last week; we don’t really believe God wants to save us, we think that God really is out to condemn the world, and particularly, me. That could make this passage difficult for us. 

 

Thinking: 

It could be difficult because it’s simply easier to use this verse evangelistically, on a bumper sticker or a sign, than it is to live in such a way that people see the crucified Jesus in our lives. This is sort of the difficulty of application that we always have to deal with in the Bible.  Our lives are confronted by Jesus’ life; and we’re challenged to get our lives in line with his. Application is difficult, but not impossible if we’re intentional and gather together.  

 

Mechanics:

And the Cross is a difficult thing to talk about just generally, right?  Atonement is a hard thing to talk about. “Atonement” is a theological word that refers to how Jesus’ death on the cross actually ends up healing us, actually ends up dealing with sin and bringing us back to God.  

 

What are the mechanics of it, right? What happened on the cross? How does the cross relate to Jesus birth, life, and resurrection?  Why is it important? These are difficult questions period, right? 

 

And there are a lot of ways to look at this, too: we can see Jesus as a ransom paid on our behalf (I like that one), we can talk about the cross as a place of sacrifice for sin (that’s an Evangelical favorite), we can talk about Jesus as moral example, an example of how we should live our lives self-sacrifically: and these are all biblical, and not the only biblical ways we could talk about how the crucifixion worked to bring us back to God.  

 

there are dozens of other ways to look at how the crucifixion worked to bring us back to God–some are biblical, some are flat out not: we shouldn’t look at those ones. 

 

But if we do talk about what happened on the cross, if we talk about the cross at all–and I pray that as Smoky Row Brethren Christians, we do and will–then we should be prepared for people to ask us even more difficult questions than these. 

 

Child Abuse: 

This passage can be difficult because people will ask us, “Why would God kill his one and only son? Isn’t that child abuse?”  Stay with me here, okay?

 

If God sent is one and only Son to be crucified, even if he did it for me, I don’t want to benefit from child abuse, do I?  And if you have never been faced with this charge–that God is a child abuser–you will sometime, I am sure of it, if we do share with others that we’re Christians. So I’m bringing it up not because I think God is a child abuser, but because people will ask us how we can believe what we believe and not see God as a child abuser? 

 

And we need to be prepared to answer this question, don’t we?  Not only for other people, but for ourselves, too, I think, so that when we are asked this question we are not tossed about in our faith, crippled somehow. 

 

And the least complicated response to this question is simply that Jesus chose the cross. He chose the cross. We can find a hundred passages to support this view in nearly every written work in the New Testament: 

 

The author of Hebrews, in 12:2, which we read last week, talks about how Jesus endured the cross–it was a costly, painful thing, right?–for the joy that was set before him. 

 

Paul, in Ephesians talks about how Jesus, “who though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death–even death on a cross.”  Jesus emptied himself, humbled himself, right? 

 

Two weeks ago we saw Paul talking about how Jesus “gave himself up” for the church.  One of his basic arguments is that part of following Jesus means choosing self-sacrifical living, a life of downward mobility, suffering; and this basic argument of his that we can read so many places depends on Jesus’ example of choosing the cross.  And in Acts 20 we see Paul taking his own advice when he knows that going back to Jerusalem will result in his imprisonment and persecution. 

 

In the middle of Mark, the simplest, in some ways, of the synoptic gospels we see Jesus completely aware of how crucifixion awaits him in Jerusalem, over and over he talks about what he’s headed toward; but yet completely committed to going there.

 

Even John gives us in chapter 12 this picture of Jesus who, though he’s troubled about the crucifixion he’s about to face, can still say “And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”  (John goes on there to tell us that Jesus is talking about his death, which confirms the idea that for Jesus, when he’s talking about “being lifted up,” he’s talking about the crucifixion, not his resurrection and ascension into Heaven). 

 

And in all this and other passages we see Jesus deciding to go to Jerusalem, choosing to go there; and he does so knowing that he’ll die. Jesus chooses to die on the cross for us, of course, chooses to be a sacrifice on our behalf. 

 

This is how we often talk about Jesus’ work on the cross, right; although as we mentioned, there are other biblical ways to talk about it? The passage that was read to us this morning from Hebrews pointed exactly to this, and we talked about this last week: that Jesus was a once-and-for-all sacrifice for sin, the end of the sacrificial system.  

 

The author of Hebrews, in his summary of the way the law deals with sin in this way, says that “ Indeed, under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.” 

 

The law, of course, dealt with sin by blood; sacrifices were offered on behalf of the individual sins people had made, and the collective sin of Israel; and because sin should keep people from God, the system enabled people to draw close to God, enabled Israel to 

 

And Jesus chose to sacrifice himself on our behalf. 

 

But honestly; this only pushes this difficult question back a step, because if we talk about Jesus’ choice for the cross as an answer to this concern someone might raise with us, we need to be prepared for another question, whether it’s made with skeptical antagonism or real curiosity, which is “Why does God need a sacrifice for sin?”  “If God is all powerful, why can’t God just forgive people?” “Is God just blood-thirsty?” 

 

Blood-thirstiness? 

And maybe we can try and talk “history of religions” with people, talk about the way the ancient world viewed blood, the power it was believed to hold, and the way God worked with the cultures that existed in the world, worked out a system by which he could draw close to people.  

 

And this might satisfy some people, really; should, maybe, if we really discussed this.  It would satisfy those who come from cultures where blood is still believed to have power, and temples stand where animals are daily cut up to appease various god’s and goddesses; they might get it.  But we might not want them too, would we? Because we don’t really see God as bloodthirsty, don’t want to see God as bloodthirsty.  But as a scholar I’m about to quote a whole bunch notes, it’s impossible in our current global context for people not to compare and contrast Christianity–and Jesus, and the cross–with other religions, excuse Jesus as just like this religious figure or that religious figure, and claim that we are foolish for trusting Jesus over other religious figures, which are equal, and Christianity is so violent anyway (Heim, CE, 212).  And if you haven’t come across this view, I promise you will, I promise if we verbally share our faith we’ll be confronted with it. 

 

One answer to this difficult question, this objection that the crucifixion points out a bloodthirsty God–and there are many ways to answer this question in theologically and biblically good ways, but–is suggested by S. Mark Heim, in the work Cross Examinations: Readings on the Meaning of the Cross Today, in his article, “Saved by What Shouldn’t Happen.”   And I love it, so I thought I’d share some of it with you all; but if you want a photocopy, I’ll get you one–fair use and all that.  

 

One Answer: Heim 

Heim discusses the trickiness of Jesus’ sacrifice. He notes how:

 

“The New Testament insists on setting the cross in a sacrificial frame while it insists no less on removing it from that frame with contentions that it marks the end of sacrifice, the final sacrifice.” (Heim, Cross Examinations, 212)

 

Depending heavily on theories and studies of René Girard, Heim talks about scapegoating: the way it functions in a society, and the way it somehow has a calming effect: if we can blame someone for our problems, and punish that person somehow, it really does make us feel better.  

 

He shares that “Scapegoating is one of the deepest structures of human sin…it is demonic because it is endlessly flexible in its choice of victims and because it can truly deliver the good it advertises.  Satan can cast out Satan,” Heim says, “and is the more powerful for it. [Scapegoating’s] hold is strongest where it is most invisible…so long as we are in the grip of sin, we do not see our victims as scapegoats.  Texts that hide scapegoating foster it. Texts that show it for what it is undermine it.”  

 

And the gospel of John, of course, shows the scapegoating of Jesus for what it is, right?  When people come to Caiaphas, the High Priest, worried that Rome will take them out because people will get too worked up over Jesus, he says, “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one many die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” And so they begin to plan on ways to put Jesus to death. (cf. John 11:45-53)  This is scapegoating in the supreme, right? Heim notes this, and the way in Luke, after Jesus is sent off to die, we’re told that Herod and Pilate become friends, even though before this they were enemies, and says that “Jesus’ persecutors intended his death to bring peace.  It offers a way to avoid an outbreak of violence between Romans and Israelites, between Jews and other Jews.  Jesus’ death is intended to be sacrificial business as usual. But God means it to be the opposite.” (Heim, CE, 217). 

 

He notes that “God is not just feeding a bigger and better victim into this machinery to get a bigger payoff…Jesus open proclamation of forgiveness (without sacrifice) before his deatha nd the fact of his resurrection after it are the ways that God reveals and rejects” what we’ve talked about this morning.  That we can just scapegoat some victim, blame someone else, let them carry our anger and our violence, and feel better.  

 

The cross, which on the surface seems to just continue and magnify some bloodthirstiness of God, actually becomes the means by which God can end scape-goating forever, just like the gospel of John, on the surface was so gnostic and other-worldy, was the very thing that the early church could use to prove how foolish and unChristian gnosticism was. 

 

Heim declares that “Jesus didn’t volunteer to get into God’s justice machine. God volunteered to get into ours. God used our own sin to save us.” (Heim, 218). 

 

He also points out how C. S. Lewis knew this well; when Aslan, in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, is killed on the stone table in exchange for Edmund’s freedom, it cracks forever, ending sacrifice forever.  “The gospel…” Heim shares, “is not ultimately about the exchange of victims, but about ending the bloodshed” (Heim 219).  

 

But the power of the crucifixion comes exactly from the objectionable things we find in it: the blood, the violence, the eyewitness pain and terror. Heim notes that “the biblical language of sacrifice and blood…tells the truth. To want to purge these elements from the story relfects a naive confidence that we are in greater danger of being corrupted by the bloody language than we are of falling prey to the sin it describes” (Heim, 222).  

 

So if the crucifixion is difficult, it’s difficult because it’s real, because we can’t hide from it and make it pretty, and we are forced to face our scapegoating tendencies and the fact that Jesus was totally a victim of all sorts of powers working against him.  But God wasn’t working against him, not at all. God was destroying the system that allowed victims to be scapegoated, destroying the system that required sin to be paid for. 

 

Again, Heim:  “Only one whose innocence truly can be vindicated and whose power could have have offered escape can, buy suffering this sacrifice, reverse it. The work of the cross is the work of a transcendent God breaking into a cycle we could not change alone…It is a saving act of God, a victory over the powers of this world, a defeat of death.” (Heim, 223).  

 

So if we are asked difficult questions about the cross, about Jesus’ choice to be lifted up, we can say, following Heim, that yeah: Jesus was a scapegoat, he was a victim: but his victimization, and his scapegoating wasn’t done out of God’s blood-lust, it was done to undermine and end scapegoating forever. Jesus being lifted up not only healed us, not only provided the final sacrifice, but finally ended any need for sacrifice.  It was a chosen thing, and by looking to Jesus we have been vaccinated against all the things that led to Jesus being lifted up in the first place–violence and scapegoating bloodthirstiness. 

 

Conclusion:

So what I hope is that after today, we never ignore John 3:16 again, but we realize that it is at least a call to live in a way that points people to the lifted up Jesus; and reminds us at least that we are in the light, we’re not on the condemnation side of things anymore, but the eternal life side of things, and we should claim our true identities and our true inheritance and live up to these things. We should live in such a way, that in fact, people see through us, to the lifted up Christ, and beyond to the resurrected one, and when we share the reason for the way we live and hope we have people can decide if they want to see the Kingdom of God we are a part of. 

 

But we will need to share, verbally, sometime, with those around us how we have met God.  In this world we live, we can live a great life, a good life, and never once have those around us connect it to Jesus. And it’s easier, sometimes, if we don’t have to talk about difficult things like crucifixion.  But we do need to. And I hope that we can be a church who are prepared to talk about Jesus being lifted up, prepared to talk about John 3:16 and not just paint it on poster-board signs.  

 

And the cross will always be a difficult thing to talk about.  It always will; it makes no sense on the surface, but is, as we saw Paul say before, it is the power of God. With all its violence and blood and honesty about these things, which confronts our sensibilities so strongly and causes us to avoid really discussing it, it is because of this that the cross can be the very thing that keeps us from ever acting violently, blood-thirstily, or scapegoating another for our own sins and mistakes.  

 

If we can live out John 3:16, and talk about it well it would be good for God’s Kingdom, and good for us.  So let’s notice it, let’s begin at least by talking about these things among ourselves, and let’s support one another as we share them with the world, allowing God to maybe even lift us up, in some way, as a sign for others to read. 

 

Prayer: