(Preached 27 September 2020)
Link to the Readings.
Moses is having a rough time. There he is, with his brother Aaron, leading a group of thousands, even hundreds of thousands, of people through a desert. The people are Hebrew slaves who have escaped from slavery in Egypt. Life had not been great there, of course, but now that they are in the desert, they seem to have decided that slavery in Egypt was better than wandering through the wilderness to an unknown future.
And so the people complain. It would have been better to die in Egypt, they say. Moses, you’re going to kill us with hunger, they say. We’re thirsty, Moses. They keep it up, this complaining against Moses. We heard about it in the reading last week, and this week we hear them at it again.
Moses is a savvy and wise leader. Last week we heard him say to the people, “Your complaining is not against us but against the Lord.” This week, he seems to have had about enough of them, for he says to God, “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” And God tells him how to provide water to the people.
It was not just the ancient Hebrews who have fallen into the trap of complaining about their leaders when the one they are really angry at is God. It has happened throughout human history, and it keeps happening today. It does not matter if the leaders are politicians, clergy, bosses and supervisors. I know that people get angry at clergy on a regular basis. Sometimes the anger is legitimately against us. Sometimes it is simply anger at God. We represent God, after all. As for politicians and bosses — sometimes the anger against them is legitimate (I can think of a few examples). And sometimes the people are angry at God, but they don’t know how to express it or what to do about it.
This phenomenon is happening all around us right now, in these times. Covid-19 is providing us plenty of examples. Let’s take the example of wearing masks, which seems to have sparked rallies and protests. Yes, masks are uncomfortable. They’re awkward. They’re annoying. But to say that they violate one’s personal freedom is just a bit ridiculous.
A global pandemic like Covid-19 is a frightening event. It is like wandering in a desert into an unknown future. The ancient Hebrews did not know when they would get to this promised homeland of their ancestors or what they would find when they got there. With Covid-19, we don’t know what will happen, or when. And fear easily can lead to anger, and so people are angry.
The anger is mostly at God, with feelings like these at their root: Why have you let this happen, God? This disease is raining on my parade, God. I cannot do the things I used to do. I cannot do the things I want to do. When is this going to be over, God? When will there be a vaccine, and will it be safe? I want life to go back to normal, whatever that was. I know that I used to complain about things back in that “normal” life, but at least I knew (or thought I knew) what was coming next.
Certainly with Covid-19, there are legitimate fears, legitimate griefs, legitimate anger at times against politicians. Livelihoods are at stake. Visiting loved ones who are ill is often forbidden, and that’s extremely painful. We do not get to celebrate or mourn with others as we would like and as is absolutely good and natural to do. We don’t even get to sing as a congregation in church.
With the ancient Hebrews wandering through the desert, they had legitimate complaints too, in a way. They were hungry. They were thirsty. Probably their feet hurt. But they will get to the Promised Land only if they listen to God. Because of their complaints they end up wandering in the desert for 40 years, and a whole generation died before they reached their homeland. They were unable to recognize God’s generosity. They could not see the signs of God’s grace.
The readings from Exodus we have been hearing are meant to point out how God was taking care of the people, even as they wandered through the wilderness. Last week we heard how God gave them meat at night and in the morning gave them manna, a strange breadlike substance. Manna will keep appearing throughout all the years of their wandering. This week we hear how God gives them water. God appears to them as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, to lead them, and to show that God’s presence is with them. The Psalm retells these wonders, so that the generations to come might remember God’s mighty deeds and tell them to their children. But the people still complained.
Yes, much of life can cloud us from being able to recognize God’s generosity and God’s presence. But God is always before us, is always with us, as close as the air we breathe, as close as our heart. God knows our anger, and God can take it. One of the things people often do not realize about prayer is that it does not mean talking to God in nice, flowery language. It means being honest with God about what is going on. One might say the Israelites wandering in the desert were being honest with God. But they weren’t; they were just complaining to Moses. They were not directing themselves to God at all. So the secret of prayer is to be honest — and then be willing to listen for and watch for God’s response.
God is leading us to a Promised Land also. Not because of Covid-19 — the promise existed long before Covid came along. And the Promised Land is not one of Covid or no-Covid. It is a promised land that exists here and now, for it is simply the offering of forgiveness of sins, grace and mercy, joy and abundant life. It exists even in the midst of Covid and all its annoyances and restrictions.
I know that it is easy not to believe in such a Promised Land, it is easy not to believe in God’s abundant grace and mercy, especially in the midst of a global pandemic and all the woes happening throughout the world. To believe in such a Promised Land takes a shift in the mind and heart, a shift in how we see things. The advice from the Apostle Paul helps us get there. He tells us to have the same mind that was in Christ Jesus: to be in accord with one another, to be humble about oneself, to do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit. The ancient Israelites did not have this advice; they lived long before Christ. But we have it. To take it to heart and let it run our lives is like turning on a switch and the light appears, or shifting one’s vision and suddenly one sees, or turning one’s head and suddenly one hears. Suddenly we can see that God’s abundant grace and mercy are showered upon us each and every day.
To believe this means letting go of that subterranean, not-quite-hidden anger at God, for whatever reason it might be there, and throwing ourselves on God’s mercy, saying yes to God when some part of us would rather say no. It means opening our hearts to the grace shown in Christ and letting the same mind be in us that was in Christ Jesus. It means allowing our lives to be guided by the Holy Spirit, and being willing to walk freely and joyfully into an unknown future.
That’s how we reach the Promised Land.