The reason Jesus tells this to Nicodemus is because poor Nic doesn’t know that his perceived strength is his weakness. Nicodemus in the Gospel is like the “Fridge” in Jumanji. He lives in a position of power and status in the world. The Pharisees cannot “enter the kingdom” of God, they cannot put the jewel in the mountain and yell Jumanji! because they believe they have no weaknesses. You can’t be healed unless you understand your limitations, your weaknesses, your failures. No one with the snakebites in the desert with Moses can be healed until they know that they cannot save themselves. No one in the desert knows how pathetically weak they are unless a snake has bitten them. No one knows that they cannot save themselves unless they reach a level of suffering and pain that has no solution beyond that of a savior beyond understanding.

Jesus says, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life.” (Jn 3:13)

The Israelites’ snakebite can be seen as literal or a metaphor - take it however you like. Either way it works. Because I didn’t find my weaknesses, not really, until I felt helpless. I would’t even admit weakness until I reached a point where a savior was needed, where my own efforts and outside human help couldn’t provide any comfort or healing. This is strange contradiction, the one that you see in the desert, in the conversation with Nicodemus, and yes, even in Jumanji. This realization happens in hospitals and in churches and in recovery meetings around the world every day. Unfortunately, this light doesn’t come unless we suffer, unless we have pain.

We are going to have pain either way. But you can ride it out to the end, to the last breath, never admitting weakness. It’s a choice that you make. The suffering, we think, is to be blamed on God, but when we are successful or comfortable, we never once think to thank God. We only want a God that makes life easy. That’s not how it works. God wants to draw us toward him. Signs and clues and breadcrumbs are everywhere once you start to look, but for me, it took the full snakebite treatment. Because without it, I would not have turned. I would not have looked at the bronze serpent on the pole unless I felt desperate for help. I would never have asked for help. I would never had believed that strength was my weakness, and I never would have come to the light.

“For everyone who does wicked things hates the light and does not come toward the light, so that his works might not be exposed. But whoever lives the truth comes to the light, so that his works may be clearly seen as done in God.” (Jn 3:20)

For context, this quote is near the end of the Jesus’ discussion around with Nicodemus being “reborn.” I’ve gone into that at some length in other episodes, but there’s a side of this discussion that fits here, that goes with the strange scene in the desert with the snakes.

Creation is painful. You cannot make new wine without cutting the vines and crushing the grapes. Birth is painful. There is no question that birth is an ordeal for both mother and child. Anyone who has even been bedside at a birth knows this is a fact, that the pain and suffering of childbirth is second to none, and yet…and yet the moment a baby is born there is so often the onset of uninhibited love. I realize there can be more suffering, medically and mentally, but when a healthy baby and mother unite, there is a joy that cannot be hidden or recreated. This is the type of joy that nothing else in life can match, or even come close to in comparison. Creating a new life takes immense pain to break through to joy. New life cannot come forward without pain.

This is what Jesus is telling Nicodemus, and it’s what is happening in the desert, and of course Jesus is talking about the spiritual birth, not physical. He says multiple times that you must be born in the spirit. This seems like some cryptic stuff here, but you need the secret decoder ring, and you don’t get to send in box tops for this ring. You have to live it. To be born of the spirit requires getting bitten by the snake. Likewise, Fridge has to go into Jumanji as Mouse and lose all his physical advantages. To be helpless is to be bitten by the snakes. While there can be physical pain that we experience, there can be mental or spiritual suffering that matches or even exceeds pain in the muscles, bones, and nerves. All who are born physically must be born “of the spirit,” which may come easily for some, but for many can only come through pain and suffering like that of childbirth. This is why the metaphor of “being born” and “coming to the light” makes sense to those of us born to this world. Babies must come “to the light” and the spiritually dead and blind must come “to the light.”

Jesus answered, “Amen, amen, I say to you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of flesh is flesh and what is born of spirit is spirit. Do not be amazed that I told you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it wills, and you can hear the sound it makes, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes; so it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” (Jn 3:5)

We are body and soul, not one or the other. We are this merger of both, fully enmeshed together, and although from Descartes onward we’ve tried to separate them, they cannot be separated. If we attempt to separate them, then we lose half of our being, we deny our fullness. The body and soul go together, but each must be born in different ways. All of the characters in Jumanji were physically born, but they were not spiritually born until they entered the spirit world of the video game and did combat with their weaknesses. They had to wrestle and suffer with life after losing all that they believed made them strong. They had to look up at their weaknesses, to see their flaws raised up before them (literally, as Mouse’s character traits are raised up on a virtual billboard or card for him to see). Before entering the game they were puffed up with pride hiding behind protective shields, and thrusting swords out at the world. But those shields and swords led them to prison. They all ended up in the same place and their only redemption came from being rendered helpless, recognizing their flaws, seeing true value in every face, and ultimately believing in something greater than them could set them free.

All of the Israelites writhing in the desert were physically born already, but they were not spiritually born until they were bitten and weak. In their confidence, they rejected God, using their own words and strength as swords and shields. They didn’t need God, since they felt strong. Then came the bites, the fiery snakes, and the pain and suffering, for which no cure or medical treatment could solve. Once helpless they had to look up at the image of what bit them, what caused their helplessness. They had to look up at the serpent on the pole? Why a serpent? Because that was the cause of their weakness. And what does the serpent represent in the Bible? Sin. A snake or serpent or slippery, shiny tempter that bites is always and undeniably the representative symbol of badness in the Bible. The bitten, the fallen, had to look up at what caused their weakness and acknowledge that fact. The thing that caused their weakness was the snake, which is to say sin. And only then, in the desert, when they awakened to that truth were they healed. Then they “lived,” they were healed, they were re-born in the spirit. Only by looking at the mysterious pole that held up what ailed them were they restored to health and good order. Why did they have to look up at the serpent? Why does this matter?

They had to admit their sins. They had to pass through the fire to be burned of their imperfections. Interestingly, they are said to be “fiery snakes” that bit them. This is critical to understand about this weird story in the desert. The Hebrews have to stop denying that they have weaknesses, that they have sins, in order to be repaired. To deny that we have weaknesses and sin is to reject God. It’s really that simple. The denial of sin is the rejection of God. That is the story in the Garden, where the first people are tempted away from God, persuaded that they will become “like gods,” only to find out it was a lie, and that they can never become God by taking the easy path. Like Adam and Eve, the bitten Hebrews cannot elevate themselves to be God without humility. This is one of the odd contradictions of Christian wisdom that you hear over and over, where to go up, you must first go down, and “the last will be first,” and “he who exalts himself will be humbled.” It’s not like trying to find Waldo, this message is all over the Bible. The second son is chosen over the first, the poor receive the spirit before the wealthy, the uneducated understand more than the teachers, and the suffering servant is the king.

To return to God requires admitting our weaknesses and letting down our guard. Then you will begin to move toward the light. To not admit weakness is to stay hidden behind the wall you have built. The wall that you believe is protecting you, this strong front you put up, is not made of brick. It’s paper. It’s just paper that you imagine is brick. And it needs to be punched through. The funny thing is that we build up this wall with diplomas and cars and careers and fitness and fashion and we think others admire us for these things, but they can see the paper thin veneer we’re wrapped inside. We just can’t see it ourselves because it’s hard to admit we don’t have everything all figured out.

I think I read this “bronze serpent” story years ago and considered this to be some kind of magic or voodoo going on, and felt that it was odd for Judaism and Christianity to say that the Canaanite fertility rites were bad magic while this bronze serpent story was healing by God. But was this some kind of magic healing by the bronze serpent?

No. Here’s the difference and it’s so critical to understanding the Bible and reading it. They are not healed by the statue of the bronze serpent. They are healed by their humility and their belief. The statue is just an object. It has no power. God is the only one with power. But those who believe, are healed. Those who get relief, do so by belief. Belief enters when they admit their faults. The door to faith opens up when you surrender. The magic rites of other faiths believe that the statue, the object, or the incantation has power. The sacrifice to false Gods is making a transaction. The one God doesn’t play that game. Moses is calling the bitten people to repent, to turn back to God, in order to be healed. How will it heal them? By their surrender to God they will be healed. The statue is as dumb as the rock its made from. But the surrender to God changes people from the inside out. Surrender must happen in order for the medicine, the Holy Spirit, to take in your soul. Faith is the submission of the will and the intellect to God, and if you are only trying to make a deal with God, you aren’t submitting, you are wheeling and dealing.

This is why Nicodemus doesn’t understand what Jesus is saying. The idea of surrender may bounce around in his mind, but he doesn’t do it, or he doesn’t understand it, or maybe he can’t understand it. I think that’s it. He can’t understand it. Why not? Because he doesn’t believe he has a weakness. Pride is can seem a nearly immovable block, and it takes the unstoppable force of the Holy Spirit to dissolve it. Or if you’re lucky, you just get the experience of St. Paul, knocked off a horse by a bright light and it’s all taken care of in a flash. But that’s not how it usually works. Nicodemus did not see the light, despite sitting right in front of it.

His righteousness blinds him. So he cannot be born in the spirit. Sadly, his education, wealth, and deep knowledge of scripture will never produce the pain and suffering that will lead him to admit that he has weakness. Like Fridge in Jumanji, his weakness is his strength, or his strength is his weakness. You can say it either way. Nicodemus just doesn’t know it yet.

His pride will never allow him to be humble, even though both may attempt to act humble in public. Humility usually comes by pain and suffering. You can’t force it. You can try to get it by self-denial, by fasting or forgoing sweets and TV and soda, but it’s not the same thing. Denying yourself food and entertainment will help, and should be done for practice, but it will not likely produce the full effect. Mortification has its purposes and can most certainly draw you closer to God. But self-denial alone to achieve humility is like using a flight simulator versus flying a real jet. The former has no real consequences when the plane crashes, and the latter one kills you (and perhaps many others). To use another example, using self-denial to achieve humility like using virtual reality to “walk” through New York City on a summer day compared to feeling the heat of the sidewalk on your shoes, smelling the garbage, and hearing the traffic noise. Virtual reality is no substitute for reality.

Don’t let me mislead anyone here: self-denial is worthwhile. Self-denial is training for the real thing. If you want to kickstart your prayer life and spiritual awakening, there are tools and events that can ignite the fire. Exodus 90, silent retreats, Ignatian spirituality: go and do these things, as the spiritual fruit is real. These things are not replacements for the tests in life, but they prepare you and guide you when the tests show up at your door, and rest assured the test or tests are approaching.

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