“For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son”.

John Three Sixteen.

It is, arguably, the best-known verse from the whole Bible…

one memorised by generations of Sunday School children…

and emblazoned on posters that continually pop up at major, international sporting events.

It seems to summarise succinctly the very essence of the Christian faith—

as it’s traditionally understood—

of a God who, in love, sent Jesus to die…

in our place…

so that we could be forgiven and experience eternal life when we die—

as the second part of the verse attests.

But to be honest, some of us—

who feel uncomfortable with the latter part—

tend to focus on the first part only…

or skip over the second part to the next verse…

“God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him”. 

While the first part of verse sixteen is okay…

the second part seems to verge into dangerous theological territory.

It seems to imply that God’s love is dependent upon us “believing in” Jesus—

or, as the Greek probably should be translated…

either “trusting in” Jesus or “being faithful to” Jesus.

That clearly seems to imply that while God’s love is universal…

it is also conditional.

And, frankly, that impression of conditionality is only reinforced when we put the whole verse in its context…

as we heard read this morning…

namely…

the opening verses that few of us pay much attention to:

“Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life”. 

Well, don’t worry if you didn’t pay much attention to that…

because most commentators don’t either.

It’s a reference to a story from Numbers chapter twenty-one.

The people of Israel are still on their forty-year meander through the wilderness—

which they could have traversed in a few months.

But Moses’ brother, Aaron, has died—

as have a number of others—

and there’s no real end in sight.

They still lack adequate food and water…

and the manna that God sends leads a lot to be desired in a culinary sense.

And more than a few of them have started grumbling again…

wondering why they ever left Egypt…

and wouldn’t it be better if they returned…

and they have started airing those complaints with God, directly.

But God, it seems, is none too amused…

and punishes their lack of faith and obedience by sending a plague of poisonous snakes…

which bite and kill quite a number.

The people repent.

And Moses prays to God to take the snakes away.

But instead, God tells Moses to make a snake out of bronze…

and stick it on top of a pole…

and anyone who chooses to look at the bronze snake won’t die from the snake venom.

And the author of John’s Gospel proffers this as an image of Jesus’ death and resurrection: 

“Just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up”.

 

Oh, where to begin?!

First, the bronze snake tale is clearly predicated on a primitive and magical understanding of the world.

Perhaps if they had made lots of bronze snakes…

they could have used them as clubs to bash the real ones.

Aside from a belief in sympathetic magic, that’s hardly a cure for a venomous bite.

Second, having already had trouble with a golden calf…

which was a big no-no…

why the heck would you make a bronze snake…

and expect superstitious people to gaze at it expectantly?

More seriously…

what sort of screwed-up image of God does this offer us?

In response to legitimate fears and complaints…

God sends snakes.

When the people repent…

God doesn’t actually get rid of the snakes at all…

which means that the people are still getting bitten…

so, in effect, they’re still being punished…

but now, at least, it’s not a capital punishment.

And despite attempts by commentators to suggest that the whole scenario— 

salvation coming through gazing at a bronze snake on a pole— 

is an invitation to the people to demonstrate their true repentance…

that’s just a load of pious clutching at straws!

There is nothing redeemable about this, at all!

Rather, the portrait of God that we get from this is of a short-tempered, vindictive, and fickle deity…

who preys on our inherent fears and superstitions.

And yet…

the author of John’s Gospel thinks that this is a helpful symbol for understanding the death and resurrection of Jesus…

and a helpful demonstration of the so-called “love of God”.

Far from being a succinct summary of the Gospel…

when set in its literary and symbolic context…

John three sixteen is the stuff of theological nightmares.

 

So, what are we to make of all this?

 

Notwithstanding all of the metaphorical and theological rubbish surrounding it…

I choose to believe that God is…

in essence…

love…

true love:

universal and unconditional.

If God only loves those who love God in return…

or those who do what God says…

then God’s love doesn’t even measure up to the sort of love that we would hope to receive from our parents.

And yet…

at almost every turn…

throughout the history of the church…

and throughout human history…

we have tried to limit that and place conditions upon it.

We almost can’t help it.

It even pervades the Bible itself…

including those places that want to proclaim the extravagance of God’s love.

We may dress that up in metaphors that seem profound or at least mysterious.

We may wrap that up in complex theological language.

But so much of the Christian tradition—

from the very beginning, it seems—

has been nothing but an effort to explain how the universal and unconditional love of God…

is, somehow, not necessarily universal or unconditional.

And we still do it.

 

Maybe, in a way, this morning’s reading is an invitation to go back…

and do that all over again;

to allow the church’s beliefs and doctrines to undergo their own Easter experience…

of death and resurrection.

Maybe we should begin with the profoundly simple but simply profound assertion that God is love;

and that God’s nature is love—

universal and unconditional—

and then work back from that.

If God’s love is truly universal and unconditional, then how do we make sense of the death and resurrection of Jesus?

What, then, does it mean for us to be ‘church’?

What, then, does it mean for us to live as the people of God in the world?

And how are we to relate to everyone else:

people of different nationalities…

different cultures…

different races…

different genders and sexualities…

and different faiths, or no faith?

How would a God whose love is truly universal and unconditional actually relate to the world…

and how might we?

 

Maybe if we did go back and rethink it all again… 

and proclaimed and incarnated that…

then they might know that God does, indeed, love the world.