In the first person: God’s Provision, God’s Abundance
Beloved, I am coming to you today having been soaked in abundance. I got a whole 31 days of travel with my husband this summer – 24 in Scotland and 7 at my favorite beaches. Neither of us had to look at email during those 31 days. We were immersed in beauty. We ate amazing food and looked out of our windows onto castles and sheep, oceans and bays, wind, rain and sunshine. There were travel mishaps, because that is life (and probably fodder for a later sermon). But 31 days of time together – that is abundance. Thanks be to God.
And in the warm glow of abundance, I had expectations about how I was going to return to Faith – well rested, full of ideas and dreams, overflowing with enthusiasm.
And then, on September 19, the last night of my long anticipated beach time with my youngest daughter and some colleagues, I took a big fall on some dark stairs. After 6 hours in the ER, I had 12 stitches across the back of my ankle – making it impossible to wear any sort of “normal” footwear, let alone get a pedicure, for weeks to come. And I still had to drive myself home a few hours after my discharge.
Then, one week later, on September 26, my mom took her last breath at age 93. It was not sudden, it was not unexpected. It was the end of a very long process. I realized this week that I have been grieving the loss of the woman I knew as my mom for about five years now. And now the grief has changed. It is still present and somehow changed.
So, in the shadow of obvious abundance, I am sitting with a sense of loss and longing. I am not up here dancing before you; but I am here. Sans footwear. Moving slowly. Heart in a couple of places.
And while it is not what I wanted, not what I hoped for, not what I imagined, it is what I have got.
I am admittedly bringing all of THAT to this week’s text – this story about hunger and complaint, provision and surprise, expectation and enough. That is the state of my “first person” view of scripture today.
This Fall we are looking at core stories in the Hebrew scriptures – stories that rooted Jesus’ faith and therefore are the foundation of our own interpretation of his life and teaching. These are stories that are so deep, so multi-faceted that we can spend a lifetime revisiting them.
Because of preacher schedules over the past couple of weeks, you’ve visited texts just a little out of sync, so let me place today’s story of wilderness in context.
The book of Genesis lays out creation – not just of the places and things of the universe but also the creation of the people of God. From Adam to Eve, Cain to Abel, Abram and Sarai to Isaac, Jacob, Esau, Joseph and all of is brothers…we travel from the formless void to Eden and to Egypt in the book of Genesis.
If Genesis tells the circuitous story of how the people of God found themselves in Egypt, Exodus is about how they left. And that is where we find ourselves this week.
A couple of weeks ago, the Rev. Dr. Cary James shared the story of Moses found earlier in Exodus. Moses was being called by God to the work of leading the Hebrew people, his people, out of slavery in Egypt. Today, we return to that story – about 45 days AFTER God has parted the sea so that the Hebrew people can cross to safety and escape Pharoah’s warriors and chariots on dry land.
(And to be clear, there was a lot of other stuff between Moses’ call and that miracle at the sea. It is a big story and we have skipped a LOT of it.)
In today’s story, the people are in the wilderness, the Sinai Peninsula between modern Israel/Palestine and Egypt.
The Sinai wilderness looks a little different than our western world definition of wilderness. (cue photo?) It is the desert. It is heat, relentless sun, hard landscapes and barrenness. The people are in the barren wilderness and they are lost.
Faced with wilderness like that, it would slavery to Pharoah doesn’t seem so horrible after all – at least in the text, they say that they would rather die with food in their bellies in a familiar place than die with nothing to eat in this unfamiliar wilderness. They complain to Moses and Aaron as their leaders.
Evidently overhearing their complaints, God tells Moses that God will provide bread from heaven.
There are specific instructions about this bread – each day the people should go gather enough for that day – not more or less. Then on the sixth day, somehow there will miraculously be more so that the people can REST on the seventh day.
God indicates that this is a kind of test – will they collect as they are told or will they act out of a sense of scarcity and collect more than they need?
Moses and Aaron relay God’s plan and instructions. In the process of telling the Israelites, Moses expands God’s promise – it won’t just be bread in the morning, but God will also provide meat in the evening.
God agrees to this plan in a conversation with Moses – and in the evening quails cover the camp and in the morning, there is a layer of white flaky stuff beneath the dew.
(I really do encourage you to look at this story and see all of the back and forth between God and Moses, Moses and Aaron, Aaron and the people, and the people and Moses and Aaron. There is so much here about relationship and what might happen if we related to God directly…but we have to save that one for later.)
It is safe to assume that the bread God rains down from heaven is not like anything the Israelites have seen, but as promised, there is enough each day for everyone to have what they need. It is unfamiliar, it requires them to gather as instructed, and there is enough. And this is how they survive the hardship of the wilderness. But not until they break some of the rules and learn that God wasn’t kidding. When they tried to keep the bread from heaven overnight it spoiled.
Eventually they find their rhythm, obedient to what God has told them about how much to collect, when to collect it and what to expect.
Let’s face it – it is pretty human – or at least pretty privileged human to believe that moving through something hard will generally yield something “better.”
It is pretty human – or at least pretty “privileged human” to think that the trajectory is always toward more, better, best…by some human standard.
But in this story, there is enough and no more.
In this story, there is nutrition but not a feast.
In this story, there is provision…and in that provision there is enough.
And sometimes enough is what we have.
What if enough is actually abundance, and how we assure that EVERYONE actually has what they need? (Oh, wait – that is a whole different sermon for another time. Sigh.)
Here’s where I am today:
Getting the grant to take renewal leave felt a little bit like liberation – a chance to enjoy rest after a season of hard work, an opportunity. I hope it felt like an opportunity for all of you, too.
And I really thought I’d come back strong and full and dancing.
And right now, I have a gnarly ankle that needs more rest than exercise and I am planning my mom’s memorial.
My body and my heart hurt a little bit.
And I have perspective. And memories. And a community to return to.
And while it is not what I expected, not what I hoped for, it is what I have got.
And it is enough.
In my best moments, I recognize that it is more than enough – it is gift, it is grace.
Enough is plenty. There is enough for each day. What shows up is not familiar, but it is nourishing. It is reliable. God is present in the gift.
It is enough and more.
May it be so.
Amen.
Pastoral Prayer
Gracious God, we give you thanks for the richness of the story of manna in the wilderness. In that story, there is a deep teaching about having enough.
It is a teaching about how in God‘s intended community, everyone has what they need and no one has access and no one has little. This week help us to find ways to step into the places where we need to learn what it means to have enough. Help us see those around us indeed. Help us not to judge the need we see, but instead to recognize your call to a kind of abundant living for all – regardless of race, citizenship, affiliations. All are precious in your sight.
God, we are a country with a gun problem, with a violence problem, with an us and them problem. We are a human race that cannot see the value in every other human life. Only love can break this in us and we pray for that reminder and that call to love moment by moment.
I cannot imagine the horror of worshippers under attack in Michigan last week. Comfort the families of those who were lost to fire and gunfire. And trouble us enough to seek changes – of heart and law – that put an end to such senseless acts.
Today, just outside our doors, someone was gravely injured on Montrose. God be a source of comfort and healing for all involved. And help us all to slow down…in our driving and in our living…so that others may continue to live
For a season of renewal – for the ways the Holy Spirit showed up and continues to show up in this community we give you thanks. Help us to hear your call to leave the shelter of this place and go out into the world to be Christ’s hands and feet.
We lift all of this in your holy and precious name
Amen.
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