There can be no question as to the application of the familiar type of the brazen serpent. The Lord Himself has explained its import in His memorable words to Nicodemus, and thus precluded all mere effort of imagination. “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so mast the Son of man be lifted up; that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have eternal life.” Here lies our warrant for applying this striking ordinance to our blessed Lord and Savior Jesus Christ; let us make use of it, for a few moments, as we glance at a passage in chapter 21 of the book of Numbers.
“And the people spake against God, and against Moses, ‘Wherefore have ye brought us up out of Egypt, to die in the wilderness? for there is no bread, neither is there any water; and our soul loatheth this light bread.’”
Only think of this, reader. Here is a picture of the human heart—a picture of your heart and mine. “They spake against God.” This is what we always do, whenever we grumble and complain of our circumstances. It was all about “bread and water”— “eating and drinking.” They imagined that God had brought them out of Egypt to die, whereas, in point of fact, He had delivered them from the brick-kilns and taskmasters, in order that they might hold a feast to Him in the wilderness.
Thus it was the very reverse of what they said; and so it is ever, with our unbelieving hearts when we listen to them. They are sure to tell the most palpable lies—lies, too, of the gravest character—lies about God—about His character—His nature—His dealings—His ways. All complaints as to our circumstances are lies about God.
And whence do they come? From the father of lies—the old serpent the devil—from the same one who entered the garden of Eden and made our first parents discontented with their circumstances—made them believe that God was not kind—that they were not as well off as they might be, and as they ought to be. The serpent spake against God. This is what he always has done—always does—always will do.
Let us remember this. Let us never forget that all murmuring and complaining is really speaking against God. It is the voice of the serpent through human lips. He first thrusts the sting of discontent into the heart; and then the accents of discontent are poured from the lips. We speak against God.
Mark the result in Israel’s case. “And the Lord sent fiery serpents among the people, and they bit the people; and much people of Israel died.” This was a practical lesson for their hearts. They had listened to the serpent’s voice, and they must be allowed to feel the serpent’s bite. It is a solemn thing to grumble about our circumstances. It is, in point of fact, accusing God. It is simply saying we are not happy in His hands; and if we are not happy there, where else can we be placed but in the hands of the serpent? There is no neutral ground. If we are not satisfied with God’s treatment, we must be left to taste the treatment of the serpent.
Let us deeply ponder this. It is a very serious thing to indulge in a spirit of fretfulness, murmuring and discontent. It is really wounding the heart of God and playing into the hands of the serpent. This is a terrible sin and must, assuredly, lead to bitter consequences. Let us carefully guard against it. Let us cultivate a grateful, happy, contented spirit—a mind sweetly submissive—a heart blessedly subject. Let us seek to meet all that comes with an “Even so, Father.” Thus will the serpent be completely foiled and God will be glorified.
But to return to the camp of Israel—
“Therefore the people came to Moses, and said, We have sinned, for we have spoken against the Lord, and against thee; pray unto the Lord, that he take away the serpents from us. And Moses prayed for the people.”
Here they take their right place—the place of confession—the place of self-judgment. This is the only true ground for a sinner. They had spoken against God; now they speak against themselves. This is right—right always—right for each—right for all. “I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.” Precious, eternal, sovereign grace! All praise to Him who is, at once, the source, the channel, and the power thereof—Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
“And the Lord said unto Moses, Make thee a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole; and it shall come to pass, that every one that is bitten, when he looketh upon it, shall live. And Moses made a serpent of brass, and put it upon a pole; and it came to pass, that if a serpent had bitten any man, when he beheld the serpent of brass he lived.”
Here the divine remedy is introduced— “A serpent of brass;” the very likeness of that which had done the mischief becomes, under the hand of God, the means of deliverance. The fiery serpents are not removed; nay they are still allowed to do their terrible work; but grace shines in the provision, and the bitten Israelite who looked thereon was better off by far than if he had never been bitten at all.
True, he had to taste the bitterness of sin; but he was also enabled to prove the sweetness of that grace which could bring life out of death, and give full victory over all the serpent’s power. “Sin path reigned unto death;” but, blessed be God, “grace reigns through righteousness unto eternal life by Jesus Christ our Lord.” And hence in a world of sin, and a world of sinners, where the serpent’s power is seen on every hand, and where death reigns, the poor bitten sinner may look to the Great Antitype of the brazen serpent—to that blessed Christ who was lifted up upon the cross for us—made a curse—made sin—bruised and judged in our stead; and by a simple look—one look—a look of faith at Him, get eternal life. “There is life in a look at the crucified One.”
Yes, dear reader, here lies the deep and precious secret of life and salvation. It is all had by a simple look at the divine object. When the bitten Israelite beheld the serpent of brass he lived. He looked and lived. He looked, not at himself, not at his wound, bit at the divine provision.
This was the grand point to get hold of. It was of no possible use to look at himself. He could see nothing there but a bitten, wounded, dying creature. He might try to heal his wound—he might fondly dream of getting better, and then and thus think of looking. He might reason as to the use of looking at yonder serpent of brass; he might wonder what good could be had by simply looking. But it was all vain—utterly vain. There was but the one way of life, and that was divine and perfect—it was one look of faith at God’s remedy. Till that look was given, nothing was done. When it was given, nothing was wanting. The moment anyone looked he lived, and then he could, without a shadow of fear, see the fiery serpents flying around him, and know their power to hurt him was gone. One believing look settled the whole question.
But each one had to look, and to look for himself. No one could look for another—none could look by proxy. It was an intensely individual thing, Every bitten one might look. His title to look was his being bitten. But he had to look in order to live. He was “shut up” to God’s remedy—shut up to faith.
Thus it was with the dying Israelite in the camp of old; and thus it is with the dying sinner now. The Son of man has been lifted up on the cross—God’s grand provision—His only remedy. Every soul who feels his need is welcome to look— “whosoever will”—none is shut out; all are welcome. But each must look or perish. There is no middle ground. Look and live—look or die. One look is enough; no need of a second. The moment a soul looks by faith to Jesus, he passes from death to life—life everlasting. “The Son of man must be lifted up, that whosoever believeth in him might not perish but have eternal life.”
Glorious tidings! Heavenly news! Precious message! May many ears be opened to hear, many hearts to understand, many eyes to give that one life—look Reader, What say you to these things? Have you found out that you are a poor, bitten, wounded, dying, hell-deserving sinner? Has the Eternal Spirit opened your eyes to see your true condition? Have you been thoroughly roused to a sense of your guilt and danger? If so, Why not now—even this moment—look to Jesus? Perhaps you feel disposed to say, “How am I to look? I do not know what is meant by looking.” Suppose you have a heavy bill to meet, on the fourth of next month, and you have no provision, but a very kind and wealthy friend were to say to you, “Do not be uneasy, look to me for the means to meet your bill;” would you not understand this?
Doubtless you would. Well this is but a very feeble illustration of the meaning of looking to Christ. It is to confide in Him, to rust in Him, to believe that He has met your case, that He has satisfied the claims of God on your behalf—put away your sins—canceled your guilt, and brought you nigh to God in all His own infinite acceptance. There is eternal life and salvation, divine righteousness and everlasting glory—all in one believing look at the Christ who was nailed to the tree, and is now crowned on the throne. May the Holy Ghost lead you now to give that one momentous, life-giving, peace-giving look.
POSTSCRIPT. Ere closing this paper, we would ask the christian reader to turn to 2 Kings 18:4,4He removed the high places, and brake the images, and cut down the groves, and brake in pieces the brazen serpent that Moses had made: for unto those days the children of Israel did burn incense to it: and he called it Nehushtan. (2 Kings 18:4) and read the following words: “He [Hezekiah] removed the high places, and brake the images, and cut down the groves, and brake in pieces the brazen serpent that Moses had made; for unto those days the children of Israel did burn incense to it: and he called it Nehushtan” (a piece of brass).
Thus, in Numb. 21, we have the serpent of brass as God’s provision to meet man’s need. But in 2 Kings 18, we have the same serpent of brass as the idol of man’s heart to shut God out. And does not this remind us of the use which Christendom has made of the cross? Losing sight of the One who was nailed to the wood, she worships the wood to which He was nailed!