CROSS PURPOSES

4 Then they journeyed from Mount Hor by the Way of the Red Sea, to go around the land of Edom; and the soul of the people became very discouraged on the way. 5 And 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 our soul loathes this worthless bread.” 6 So the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people, and many of the people of Israel died. 7 Therefore the people came to Moses, and said, “We have sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord and against you; pray to the Lord that He take away the serpents from us.” So Moses prayed for the people. 8 Then the Lord said to Moses, “Make a fiery serpent, and set it on a pole; and it shall be that everyone who is bitten, when he looks at it, shall live.” 9 So Moses made a bronze serpent, and put it on a pole; and so it was, if a serpent had bitten anyone, when he looked at the bronze serpent, he lived. (Numbers 21:4-9, NKJV)

Wow, what a bunch of ingrates, huh? How could these people have responded in this manner after seeing the mighty hand of God at work so powerfully in their lives? I think that for us to get a better idea of their thoughts and feelings, we need to take a look at the background that led to this point. Our text tells us they began this journey from Mount Hor, down around the Red Sea, “to go around the land of Edom.” It must be remembered that this was not just some arbitrary decision made by Moses, but it came about as a result of the refusal of the King of Edom to allow the Israelites to pass through his land. Edom would have been the first territory Israel would have approached as they came around the southeast tip of the Red Sea. In the previous chapter (20:14-20), we read the account of how Moses had sent word to the king of Edom begging for safe passage through the land. He pleaded with the king on the basis of the hardship they had faced in Egypt, with the certainty that the king had heard and would be compassionate. But his pleas were rejected, and armed men sent out to ensure that the Israelites did not ignore his wishes.

The choice at this point was a choice between the worst of two evils. They could go back the way they came and then make their way north along the rim of the Dead Sea and then along the river Jordan, through rugged, mountainous territory and unknown enemies. Or they could go around the land of Edom to the east, through a desert wasteland where few people had the courage to go. Moses decided to take the people by the latter course around Edom. This meant that they would now face an arid desert instead of fertile ground. It also meant they would have to travel at least twice the distance they would have traveled had they been allowed passage through Edom. The hardships they now faced are unimaginable.

And so the grumbling begins: “We’re going to die here”; “There’s no water in this place”; “We don’t have anything to eat here.” And then the most incredible kind of statement arises from their lips, the most foolish, ignorant, ill-advised thing they could ever have imagined saying: “All we ever get to eat is this sorry old manna.” It’s hard to believe that they could have said that about God’s miraculous provision for them. I have always imagined, though our text does not specifically say it, that this was the point at

which God finally said, “Enough!” Then the snakes came and the Israelites found out what a REAL problem was.

The affliction had its desired result, as the Israelites realize the real problem and come confess to Moses: “We have sinned against God and against you.” One of the amazing things to me as Moses hears their plea is the ability of Moses to rise above the normal human reactions and responses we might have in the same situation. How many of us, in Moses’ shoes, could have resisted the impulse to say “I told you so,” or “You had it coming”? Yet Moses makes no mention to them of how they got to where they were, he simply prays for them. Then, in answer to the prayer, he provides God’s remedy for their affliction. All these events point very quickly and very easily to the cross of Christ. Jesus referred to the incident and its significance in reference to Him when He said, “Just as the serpent was lifted up in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up.” There are lessons to be learned from this experience of the serpent on the pole, and because of the direct correspondence to Christ and the cross, I think what we can safely say that what we learn about the serpent on the pole, we also learn about the cross of Christ. We can observe first of all,

I. THE CROSS IS A PLACE OF OBEDIENCE

When the Israelites came to Moses seeking a solution, the command given to them was a simple one: “look at the serpent.” Now, it would be impossible for us to enter into the minds of those people and see what they thought about that command. But if I had been there, and if I had been bitten by a snake, and someone tells me I can be healed by looking at this bronze serpent sitting up on a pole, even in those unenlightened times, I probably would have thought Moses was about one fry short of a happy meal. I can imagine the puzzled looks that must have made the rounds through that crowd. I was reminded of a story I read once about a mother who would listen with her young children to an instructional program on the radio each morning. She particularly enjoyed the exercise class. One day she tuned in late, only to hear an energetic instructor already urging pupils along at a fast pace: “Up…down…circle round…up…down…circle round…up…down…circle round.” She quickly joined in, only to find that the instructor would continue the pace for quite some time. Finally, when she was just about exhausted, she heard the voice say, “Okay, you can stop now, and everybody put your paintbrushes back in the water jar.” (1)

That kind of blind obedience sounds pretty silly, doesn’t it? I have to believe that on the surface of things, that’s how foolish Moses’ instructions must have seemed. And yet sometimes that’s exactly how it is with God’s instructions. I recall a certain Syrian named Naaman who thought it sounded pretty silly to go wash in the Jordan seven times. I recall a certain man named Noah whose neighbors thought he had lost his mind when he started building this incredibly huge boat. I recall a very large group of people who turned away from a young Nazarene who had just told them they should eat His flesh and drink His blood. Yes, these instructions from Moses must have seemed, at least to some in the crowd, to be ridiculous. But the same was true of Christ and His cross. The instructions were the same: look to Christ, the one who became sin (or serpent) for us, and you will live. The idea was totally foreign to the rational mind. So was the idea of a crucified God. But in the case of the Israelites, we do not see the doubts expressed, we

do not see any hesitation, any grumbling, any murmuring, any questioning. What we do see is immediate obedience to the instructions they were given. How could that be?I believe it is because:

II. THE CROSS IS ALSO A PLACE OF PAIN

When we are in pain, what do we do? We look for a cure, quite naturally. That’s exactly what these Israelites did, they came to Moses, because Moses represented to them the God they knew they had offended, and if a cure was to be found, it would be found by going directly to the source. That explains also why they were able to follow the instructions they were given without questioning, because when we are in deep pain, we do not desire logic and reason nearly as much as we desire relief. And when our pain is great enough, and relief does not seem to be forthcoming, we may often feel quite afflicted by God, and forsaken. Have you ever experienced that feeling of forsakenness?

I had an experience like that a few years back, and I can tell you it is not a feeling you soon forget. Many of you already know that for many years I was away from the church and spiritual things, running hard away from God. I spent fourteen years wandering in the barren wilderness of alcohol and drug addiction, and it was only by the grace of God, who came and sought out the one who had left the fold, that I ever found my way back. And let me tell you, I experienced all the benefits of the prodigal who had returned: the best robe, the fatted calf, the whole nine yards.

With all the glorious feelings I had, I really don’t know how the misstep occurred. I suppose that with all the good things taking place, and the heavenly light flooding my soul, I let my guard down and totally ignored the fact that there are two voices in this world. I eventually let that other voice convince me of some things that were not the voice of truth, and I relapsed back into the world I had just exited. And when I did, I can tell you, Satan was waiting there with his trap. One day at this time, I was listening to a rock group called Def Leppard, and the song lyrics were telling me, “It’s too late, too late, too late, too late for love.” Somehow I became convinced that because I had slipped, God was through with me forever, somehow I had committed the unpardonable sin, and that indeed it was “too late for love.” To make it worse, I had been so caught up in the joy and good feelings, I had had no thought about the past at all. Now it was all I could think about, and suddenly the entire weight and conviction not only of the relapse, but of fourteen wasted years was heavy upon me. As a young, naïve, fresh Christian, I had no idea what to do. I felt like I was the only person who had ever endured this sort of thing, because I had never read or heard anything about it, and no one ever mentioned that sort of thing to me. And so the hook went in deep, and lasted for several months. I thought God was completely through with me, had turned me over to Satan and this world, and that at any moment Satan would, with God’s blessing, strike me dead. The oppressive feeling was so strong that I can recall one day trying to say the Lord’s Prayer and not even being able to voice the words.

Eventually, I went to Kentucky Mountain Bible College, where I had planned to enroll and study for the ministry. Actually, I was just going through the motions at that time for my mother’s sake, because I knew how much it had meant to her that I had been called to ministry. It was at this remote, isolated haven of God in the hills of Eastern Kentucky that I began to find the grace and peace I sought. One incident still stands out

from that time, just a brief, Holy Spirit-led moment that for me was a watershed in a desert. One Sunday afternoon I was in my dorm room lying down to rest when a knock came at my door. When I opened the door, there stood Tomoyuki Horiuchi, a Japanese student with whom I had recently become friends. He told me quite simply that the Lord had impressed upon his heart that he should come down from his room on the floor above me and share his story with me. I don’t recall anything he told me that day, except the one part of his story that connected so amazingly with my own. He shared an experience he had when it suddenly seemed like God had vanished from his life. He sought the Lord in prayer with no relief; or as he put it, "I tried to pray but I could not say the words." He read the Scriptures and they were like a closed book. This went on in his life for quite some time, and the feelings were so overwhelming, he said, that he wound up asking in tears one day, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

I will never understand how the Spirit of God moves and directs people, but I had no doubts that day that the Spirit was moving in ways I had never experienced. Because when he shared those words, he touched on an exact moment in my life from a few months earlier, sitting in my house in tears and moaning those same words uttered so long ago by Christ on the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” I think at that moment just the knowledge that I was not alone, that someone else had felt and experienced my pain before me, in exactly the same way, gave me comfort and assurance that I had not known until that time. And it was not until he came and shared that story that I made the connection between my pain and the pain Jesus suffered on the cross. In the following weeks, more healing came as I participated in the campus choir and had my heart touched by some of the music we were preparing. Not surprisingly, they were also connected to the cross of Christ. One of them was “Grace Greater Than Our Sin,” and the other was an old, old hymn called “Deeper Than the Stain.” Each of them witnessed deeply to me of the infinite cleansing grace that has been made available for us through the cross of Jesus Christ.

I have absolutely no logical explanation for why Tomoyuki came to see me at that exact moment and told me his story, except that the Holy Spirit knew I was hurting. And no matter what the pain, no matter what the trial, Jesus will always be right there with us when we hurt because:

III. THE CROSS IS ALSO A PLACE OF HEALING

Isn’t it a powerful paradox that the very instrument of our pain becomes the instrument of our healing. The promise to the Israelites was that they had only to “look and live.” Thus the serpent, which had been the source of their pain, when placed on the pole, became the means also of their healing. It is exactly the same with the cross of Christ: “He who knew no sin became sin for us”; “The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all”; and “By His stripes we are healed.” I don’t even pretend to know exactly how it works, but somehow when we are disobedient, we look at Him and we see more clearly our own sin. Somehow, when we are truly and deeply hurting, we look at Him and we can better understand our own pain. Somehow, when we look at the cross and His pain, even though our own pain may not be taken away, we realize that because His pain was endured for us, somehow we can face our own pain more courageously.

I don’t pretend to have any answers for why we face painful and difficult situations. When these times come, all our theology tends to get thrown out the window. I have better answers for the question, “What do we do?” And my answer to that question is the same answer given by Moses to the Israelites: “Look and live.” Look to Christ and live. Look to the cross and live. Perhaps no one says it better than the author of Hebrews: “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, LOOKING UNTO JESUS, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him ENDURED THE CROSS, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Hebrews 12:1-2).

John Mortimer tells this story in “Clinging to the Wreckage”:

A man with a bristling gray beard came and sat next to me at lunch. He had pale blue eyes and he talked of yachting in the English Channel. “It’s not dangerous at all, provided you don’t learn to swim.”

“Why is that?”“When you’re in a spot of trouble, if you can swim you try to strike out for shore.

You invariably drown. As I can’t swim I cling to the wreckage. That’s my tip; if you are in trouble, cling to the wreckage!” (2)

Many of us have been faced, or will be faced, with times when it seems there is nothing left in our lives but wreckage. Those times will always be times when it seems like it would be so much easier to give up than to cling. Even Christ faced that wreckage in His life, symbolized by the cross He bore for us. And because He did, there is a transformation for us if we will accept it, a transformation of our wreckage into His. When we are faced with wreckage and ruin in our lives, we bring it to the cross for surrender and transformation. The cross is where we find our release and relief, the place of healing prepared for us. No wonder the songwriter was able to say so long ago, “I will CLING to the old rugged cross, and exchange it someday for a crown.”

FOOTNOTES:

(1) Reader’s Digest, date unknown.

(2) John Mortimer, "Clinging to the Wreckage," Ticknor & Fields.