Last week we started a lectionary sojourn which will take us through the Book of Exodus. As we gathered on the lawn by the pollinator garden, we heard the story of the Israelites escaping the Egyptians via the parting of the Reed Sea thanks to Moses and his trusty staff. Today, we rejoin the Israelite community on the other side of the sea where we look back to see that Pharoh’s army has been literally swept away. The Israelites see this and take a few moments to rejoice, reveling in their newfound freedom. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for them to realize that they can’t stay where they are. If they want to remain safe and free, they’re going to have to get moving on this journey to the promised land of safety. I imagine the adrenaline high coursing through the community would have made the first few days in the wilderness feel like a grand adventure… but adrenaline highs wane. God’s rescued people had no idea how rough this “adventure” was going to get, or how quickly things would begin to unravel.
By the 15th day of the second month after leaving Egypt this moving group of people are sore, they are tired, they are irritable… not irritable, these folks are angry… worse than angry, they are HANGRY! Now you might not be surprised by the fact that these folk are upset after 45 days wandering in the desert, but you need to keep in mind this is week 6 of a 40 YEAR journey. Six weeks in and all they can do is dwell on how things had been before. Somehow they remember the great pots of food available to them, and not the crushing work of being slaves. Which might make sense given that they are starving and when you are really, really, really hungry you tend to think a lot about the last time you ate. “If only we had died by the hand of God in the land of Egypt,” they lament, “when we sat by the pots full of meat and ate our fill of bread.” (Exodus 16: 3a). Six weeks in and they are so unhappy that they would rather death by Pharoh over death by hunger in the wilderness.
I would like to point out that this isn’t the first instance of the Israelites being complainers in this story. In fact, they started complaining before they ever crossed the Reed Sea, they complained three days into the journey when they didn’t like the taste of the water… and Moses, after hearing their complaints, sighed and made his way to ask God about what to do about them. While my first reaction to all of this is to be a little judge-y, after all what have they got to complain about? They were just rescued by God who offered a pillar of fire and smoke to guide them along (subtlety is not God’s vibe here). But my second reaction is that I am here for it. I like that they have no issue voicing their malcontentedness (is that a real word?). I can get behind their over the top dramatic complaints. I understand why they don’t hold their tongues as they throw their hands up in desperation. At least they are being completely honest. And that is a healthy place to be, right? No point in pretending that everything is awesome when its not. Psychology Today Magazine says that “there are several positive outcomes to complaining. It may foster a sense of validation in the individual. Complaining, like all communication, may bring a sense of connectedness between individuals. Additionally, venting makes one feel better. Letting out a negative experience certainly feels better than keeping it in…Sometimes… just venting allows an external perspective, and is self monitoring, indicating that what one is complaining about needn’t other them so.” (The Psychology of Complaining William Berry in Psychology Today).
It’s possible then that this sermon might be enough to simply reassure us that we’re not alone in our complaining about the perceived denial of our “People of God” status. I find this comforting because it feel like I get grouch and complain a lot. I mean I am really grouchy about this whole roof situation. I am grouchy about the insurance company. I was grouchy when I had to work a beautiful wedding on my day off… and that’s all just this week. Last week I was grouchy because my mom is getting older. The week before that I was in grouchy because my holidays were over and I wasn’t ready to give them up yet. I wasn’t in the mood for sermon writing so instead I decided to check the news to see if there was ANYTHING there I could use. That just made me grouchy. And if my grouchy meets up with my hunger, well, let’s just say that the Israelites and I share something in common, wandering about the wilderness tummies grumbling as I proclaim about the discomfort and unfairness of it all.
What gives me real hope, however, is what happens next in the story. As the people of God complain, Moses sighs once again and does what he always does when his people get into a complaint spiral… he makes his way to God. But this time God sees Moses coming and rather than waiting to hear what Moses has to say, God beats him to the punch with the most God like response ever…. God knows that those bitter, angry, hungry Israelites are not about to be calmed with a holy smiting or reprimanding… no, God knows that these people need food to soothe them.
And so, they got bread and quail, morning and night. The Israelites were not looking for some kind of spiritual or metaphorical support from God, they were hungry and they wanted solid, hearty food. And that’s what they got. I don’t think the Israelites needed to know if this was a “real” miracle or have the existence of edible dew and migration patterns of the middle east explained to them, I think they were happy to accept what was offered. And in that I, on this side of the story, am happy to hold on to the hope that comes with the fact that they were in the wilderness, starving and complaining, when they were blessed by a God who very much loved them as they were.
I am happy to hold on to this hope because I believe it is the same for us. Over and over again I look back in my own journey and can see the wilderness places where God was moving and present. I see the person who brought the flowers, who made a meal, who gave me a hug despite my prickliness. Maybe we’re not eating magical bread off our lawns in the. Morning, but I suspect you have had situations or experiences come out of the blue that have sustained you too. Maybe it was a dragonfly, a dime, a song, a word, a rainbow, a conversation that arrived right when you needed it, which calmed your spirit and sustained you for that one minute, that one day, that moment in time. Divinely offered sustenance, manna that will see us through.
I know that there are people here in this sanctuary, who are online with us, who are reading this sermon at home, who are in the middle of crossing a wilderness of their own. One of the hardest parts of the wilderness times is how desolate they are or feel they are. In those moments we are parched, lost, afraid, doubt-filled, and we find ourselves hopeless or fearful. The wilderness moments of life lend for some pretty barren real estate. I also have come to know that to survive these times we have to start relying on something bigger than ourselves. We have to trust that God hears our cries, and our complaints and will offer us what we need to get through today.
And that makes me think of another interesting thing about the bread and the quail. It’s curious, or maybe interesting, that it always came in one day serving amounts, until the Sabbath. None of it could be stockpiled or hoarded…I mean, I have to imagine that they tried because humans be human, but none of it kept. Those people, the Israelites, had to learn to rely on God, one day at a time. They had to get to a place where they trusted that God was indeed going to provide what they needed to get though the day. Frustratingly God never said, “hey, here’s my five year plan for you and here’s a map for the journey, with a gps just in case you lose the map, and also, here’s a written guarantee that all will be well.” Wouldn’t life be grand if that’s how life went. Instead, God gives the people exactly what they need for the day.
I always thought that the word Manna meant “bread from heaven”… anyone else think the same thing? Turns out the word for Manna in Hebrew actually means “what is it?” When the people woke they saw a layer of dew around the camp, which left a layer of flakey frost like substance when it evaporated. The people looked at it and then each other, asking “manna” “what is it?” Maybe that is the question we should be holding onto today as well: what is it? What is it that points to God’s presence in our lives today? It will be different for each of us but the source of it will be the same.
As you go into the week, may you notice beauty, may you search for the things that feed your soul, may you find that which gives you the strength to keep journeying through the wilderness. May you find you “what is it?” gifts from God, and give thanks. Amen.
