John’s Gospel offers one of the most profound summaries of the Christian faith. Jesus speaks to Nicodemus about the mystery of his mission and reveals the purpose of his coming: “that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life” (John 3:16). This verse is often quoted, and rightly so, for it encapsulates the extraordinary love of God — a love that gives, that sacrifices, and that redeems.
Jesus draws a powerful parallel between his coming crucifixion and the story of Moses lifting the bronze serpent in the wilderness (Numbers 21:9). Just as the Israelites who looked upon the serpent were healed, so too those who “look upon” Jesus lifted on the cross will be healed and saved. This is not magic, but mystery — the mystery of divine love poured out in suffering and self-giving.
We often associate salvation with strength, success, and moral purity. But John’s Gospel confronts us with a different truth: that salvation comes through vulnerability, surrender, and divine mercy. The Son of Man is not a triumphant conqueror, but one who is “lifted up” in pain and shame — so that through him, the world might be saved. And it is not condemnation, but love, that is the motive of God’s action.
This vision of salvation, centred on the Cross, is deeply countercultural. It challenges the logic of power and dominance that rules our world. The Cross may seem an odd icon of hope. It seems to be always on a collision course with what we call ‘the real world’. But at stake is the manner we answer a radical question: is the Church to allow itself to be swallowed up by the spiritless routines of the world as it is? Or are present and future generations of Christians to see themselves as agents of a new beginning? Dare they defy the hatred, greed, violence and lust for power that are taken for granted as the way things are, and must ever be? The Cross of Jesus is the enduring, God-given icon of the end of an old world, and of the beginning of a world forever new.
Fr Stephen Berecz
