“And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, what whoever believes in Him shall have eternal life.” ~ John 3:14-15
Father in heaven, everyone knows John 3:16. But the context is John 3:14-15, which is the image of the bronze serpent from Numbers 21. In the original story, the Israelites gave themselves to what they did best: grumble and complain against you and Moses. In order to teach them a sober lesson in (their lack of) gratitude and as an act of judgement, you sent venomous snakes into the camp. Many people were bitten and died. As one would expect, the rest of the community cried out for help. And in your great mercy, you responded by instructing Moses to forge a bronze serpent and place it high on on pole so that whenever anyone was bitten, he or she could look upon the image and live.
Lord Jesus, John records your teaching that Numbers 21 was a shadow of the cross. That you are the bronze serpent upon whom I am am to “fix [my] eyes” (Heb. 12:2). And just as the snake-bit Israelites were to look to the serpent, sin-bit folks like me are to look to you and believe, since I, too, (sadly) am a grumbler and complainer just like the Israelites. I deserve judgement, but in your great mercy, you give me grace.
So now, Jesus, I am called to believe that what has killed my soul and separated me from the Father was injected into you like venom as an act of justice upon my sinfulness. Jesus, you received the justice of God so that I may receive the mercy of God, being counted as reconciled and righteous. Forgiven, adopted, loved and fully accepted as a son.
Paul says it like this, “He who knew no sin [Jesus] became sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God through him” (2 Cor. 5:21). And now you call me to believe that truth. To rest and abide in it. To tie and tether my life to it.
And yet I can imagine that some were skeptical of Moses’ command to look upon a bronze snake in order to be healed. Look at live. Really? Father, my heart asks the same question. Believe and live? Believe and be forgiven? Believe and be reconciled. Believe and be counted righteous. Really? My head continues to rebel against the gospel, and my heart far too often remains skeptical and cynical of your offer in the gospel to completely forgive.
And so my prayer today, Father, is that you would give me the grace to believe the gospel. To really believe, rest and abide in Jesus. To know that my wounds are very real. They are fatal. But the gospel tells me that, by the wounds of my Savior, I am healed. It tells me that Jesus became a curse so that I might be blessed. The Jesus who is my only, but wonderfully sufficient righteousness. Like the venom that brought death to Jesus, may the gospel be the anti-venom that brings life to me. To the praise of your glorious grace.
