Gloria Dei Lutheran Church

John 3:14-21

 

Now that I’ve been here a year and half, I’d like to help you out with my name. A few people just recently asked me how to say my last name. 

 

It’s Houge, which rhymes with vogue. 

Let’s practice, I say Jodi, you say Houge. Jodi (Houge). Jodi (Houge).

But it’s not spelled how you think. It’s not spelled like Vogue. Twist! You want it to be, I know. Me, too. That would be easier. 

 

It’s spelled like House with a “g”.

I lived the first part of my life as Jodi Bjornstad and I thought Houge was going to be easier. Turns out, that’s not true. But listen, I am never ever mad when Houge is misspelled or pronounced. We are all just doing our best. 

 

 

The Israelites are wandering in the wilderness, having been rescued from slavery by God. And while they appreciate no longer being enslaved, they don’t really enjoy the food God is providing. The all inclusive meal plan of quail and manna leaves them dreaming of the food they used to have back in the day of enslavement. Or maybe even if they could get a little Frank’s Red Hot or Tabasco to spice things up a bit. Maybe a side of fries every now and then. 

 

So they begin grumbling and complaining about it until God snaps and sends in fire-serpents. Which are poisonous snakes whose bites cause death. And church, they did bite some of those folks and people died. Which led to swift full hearted repentance from the people and so God came them an antidote. He told Moses to make a bronze serpent and mount it on a pole and lift it up. Anyone who is bitten can look at the serpent and live. 

 

On one hand, this is a hard story to hear because God sounds awful. Even a strong PR team would have trouble spinning this one. Written into favorite fiction series, we’d think, wow, creative.

But coming from God our Creator, it’s hard. Unless I think about the times my children pushed me to the absolute outer edge of holding my exasperation together. How many times my patience was tapped out because they are losing their minds because of their all inclusive meal plan. Because I cut the grilled cheese into triangles instead of squares. Or I used the blue cup and it was supposed to be the green one and suddenly I don’t feel so far from this story and God’s action. 

 

And maybe what we are supposed to draw from it is that God does hit a limit with the complainers. But after a while, God changes God’s mind. God comes around and offers life once again to the Israelites.

God says, lift up the snake, keep your eyes on it and live. Look at the source of pain, suffering and death and let it become the source of healing and life. Look at the truth square in the eyes, no matter how much it scares you, and then new life will begin. 

 

 

Today’s Gospel follows suit. Except it’s not a serpent but the cross. When we look at the cross, it tells us the truth. it is a mirror of our own capacity for self destruction. Showing us our appetites for violence, oppression, our ability to allow innocent people to be the scapegoats and to suffer for the sins that aren’t their own. 

 

Like the snake on the pole was lifted, we lift Jesus on the cross because that is where life is found. Even if we know the cross does that, we do try and lift up so many other things on that pole, hoping they might give us life. Whole other programs, politicians, influencers, theology, our own abilities, our confidence in how right we are in our ideas. Lots of us put our parents up there. Or just our phones up on that pole. The tricky thing is that those things tend to work for a while. But soon, reality shows up and we see the flaws or shadow sides to all of these things let us down. 

 

The cross is the intervention from the madness and spin and violence. It is the antidote. Jesus on the cross shows us not an eye for an eye even when we feel totally justified. Jesus on the cross shows us, “Father forgive them they don’t even know what they’ve done.” Jesus on the cross is the incarnation, God is near, completely embodied and fully realized in the form of a man who takes all the sin, violence, pain and evil we heap on him and one another and still keeps offering life life life.

The cross is where we tell the truth.
It’s connected to what we publicly confess together: because saying the hardest things out loud, confessing, is the beginning of healing. 

 

Biblical commentator Jennifer Garcia Bashaw said that we cannot be healed from a  disease that remains hidden. 

 

 

We built a new garage over the course of this last year. An endeavor that was long overdue. The earth had begun to reclaim our old garage many years ago and so we finally just went for it. And in the end, we have a new garage and it’s wonderful. The day it began was glorious and hope filled because the old garage came down in about 60 minutes flat and we felt like we were off to the races and the project would be done in just a few weeks. But wow, that was not the case. It took most of the winter because because because because. Fill in the blanks. And it cost more than anticipated. And there were mistakes along the way. And our yard got all torn up in the process and turned into a mud pit which our dogs relished and rolled in for most of the mild winter. And generations of rabbits who had been living under our garage had to relocate to the neighbors. And in the end, we have a new garage and it’s wonderful.

 

But let me tell you, it is a metaphor. It is way, way easier to tear down something than to build something new. 

 

Which is helpful framework for our lives here and now. It’s possible that we will build and build and build all the good things with all our focused time and energy and it will still look like the world is falling apart. It might seem like we have more losses than wins in our fight for a just world. But we keep going with the good building because it matters to the corner of world we are called to. It matters to this community and this city and to all the places you occupy. 

 

For God so loves the whole big world.  

 

God loves the whole big beautiful world, no exceptions. Jesus came into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world. Not to condemn the world, but to expose the light. This saving and the light breaking in happens even as things are going terribly around us and we all navigate hard times. The light and love still keep streaming in because that is God’s nature. 

 

That’s the baseline. The truth that can’t be undone. And it’s so good that it’s a little offensive because the whole world means some folks that you and I would not include. 

 

But that doesn’t mean we have to sign on to sin, death and evil. We still get to say those are not okay. God can love the whole world and those things can still be not okay.

Pastor Bradley mentioned last week in his sermon that the traditional baptismal liturgy contains three renunciations and that I love them. It’s true, I love them. To renounce something means to declare ones abandonment of it. Like, for instance, any clothing with scratchy tags or material? I renounce it. 

 

In the traditional baptismal liturgy, there are three renunciations or no’s that the entire assembly declares together. 

 

Do you renounce the devil and all the forces that defy God? (We renounce them)

Do you renounce the powers of this world that rebel against God? (We renounce them)

Do you renounce the ways of sin that draw you from God? (We renounce them)

 

It’s an entire community declaring that they abandon sin, death and evil. 

 

And then these three no’s are followed by three yeses:
We believe in God
We believe in Jesus Christ

We believe in the Holy Spirit

 

We need the strength of the entire assembly to do what we cannot do alone. When I feel myself sliding into apathy or feeling completely numbed by the latest outrageous acts of violence, I need a hard no. Which is also a hard no to the violence within my own heart and mind. 

 

We are a community who comes around and lifts up the cross. Even has danger barks at our doorsteps and lives. Because we trust the one that is lifted on that beautiful Taize cross and the ones we wear on gold chains around our necks and the signs we make across our bodies, trusting that it is Jesus bringing us life. 

 

I was one of the many people around here who was at the Indigo Girls concert at the MN State Fair. It was such a sweet night. I’ve seen these woman many times over the last thirty years. And I had this overwhelming gratitude for them and their persistent work, in the world they create. It is a soft place where many find a home. It’s as if they pitched a tent in the middle of that teaming State Fair and said your are loved here. You are seen here. You are celebrated here. At one point, Amy said, “Listen, we have to take care and support our trans kids. And their parents. And the librarians.” And the crowd cheered loudly and then a few around us stood up to be celebrated. 

 

Last week at worship, I had this same sense. Actually, whenever we gather, it’s as if we have pitched a tent right in the middle of our every day lives-right here in the middle of a million messes, as the fire snakes circle our ankles. And here in this shelter, we stand together and say no to evil, we say yes to love and continually build a community shaped by the cross.