Freedom, Here and Now
Obviously, the exciting part of this story is the serpents. The Hebrew words are peculiar and hard to translate, so there’s endless fun trying to figure out just what kind of creatures are biting the Israelites—the footnote in most Bibles tells us they could be “fiery serpents,” which captures the imagination.
Then there’s the cure, the “bronze serpent.” The language and imagery are complicated here, too. And for us Christians, it’s even more so because Jesus uses it to talk about himself and his death on the cross (John 3:14). I’ve never been quite sure what to do with that. I have some ideas, but it always feels just out of my complete grasp—which is probably about right, theologically speaking.
That’s all interesting and complicated and worthy of deeper reflection. But what’s got my attention in this Lenten season is the thing that puts the people at odds with God. Specifically, when they say: “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.”
It’s not that they don’t actually have any food. They just don’t like what they’ve got. And their failure of gratitude has them daydreaming about going back to being slaves, where at least they got their daily rations. How often do we spend our time wishing for something other than what we have, more than what we’ve been given, even to the point that we would be willing to sacrifice our freedom to get it? Does our desire for something in the past, or an imagined future, keep us from paying attention to—even delighting in—God’s freedom here and now?
Lord, help us to lean into Your freedom, instead of yearning for a past that enslaves, or a future that eludes. Let us walk more and more in Your love, trusting that You are with us and for us in the wilderness, every bit as much as in the Promised Land. Amen.
Aaron Miller