Sunday October 19, 2008 - Pentecost 22, Proper 23, Year A (RCL)
It seems like
we’ve been in the desert with the people of God
for ever.
It’s a long time
since the escape from Egypt,
and even longer
since those foundational stories
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
Even Moses, who we first knew as a baby in the Nile River
is well on in adulthood.
And the people of God
are still in the desert,
and what seemed like a welcome break when they first made camp
beside the mountain
now seems like
an unnecessary delay.
They’ve been there for weeks; they’re feeling that kind of itch
that comes when you know it’s time to move on;
though perhaps the itch to move on
also has something to do
with wanting to get away from the place where Moses - and more importantly God -
got mad at them for building the golden calf.
And no matter how much they try to explain themselves,
deep down they know its no god.
Because there are big chunks of stone by the path from the camp up the mountain,
stone that had the ten commandments engraved on it
until Moses
threw them down in anger
at the people building the calf.
And the camp is kind of a mess,
because when Moses had arrived back from the mountain
they’d been having a huge party.
And then there are the piles of dirt over on the edge of the camp, piles of dirt that are graves
because when Moses had arrived back
he gathered everyone who wanted to identify themselves as on God’s side, and told them to go through the camp
and kill the wrong doers,
before God
beat them to it and destroyed everyone. And they did.
Even that isn’t enough, it seems, for God. Because the people have been hit with a plague
And so people who had been celebrating, partying, are now sick and miserable and in mourning,
and everyone is just a little bit scared
of what might happen next.
They want to leave this place behind. It’s cursed, or at least it feels that way.
It would be easier to continue the journey, even risk not having enough food or water,
just to leave the memories
behind.
Meanwhile, Moses is talking with God again.
And God is still mad.
He wants Moses to lead the people on in their journey,
but God is not going to go with them.
The promise still stands;
they will be lead to the promised land,
God will even send an angel to guide them.
But God won’t travel along.
And the reason is, that God is still so angry
that God can’t trust himself
not to strike them all dead
the next time they mess up.
Because mess up they will.
They’ve done it time and time again,
complaining about God in the first part of the journey,
even when God rescued them at the Red Sea, even when God led them to fresh water, even when God sent them manna and quail to eat,
still they complained.
And even when they had a relatively nice safe place to camp
and Moses was busy with God,
still they complained,
and made that golden calf.
There’s a pattern here,
and God has no expectation
that the people
will change.
And suddenly
the people realize
what they’ve done.
They’ve acted
like God didn’t matter.
God, who has been with them all this time,
God, who has fed them.
God, who has guided them.
There God has been, right there among them,
and they’ve take him for granted, and they’ve ignored him,
except when they’re complaining about something.
the people finally get it, they get
that they’ve messed up. But it’s too late.
God
has had enough.
God won’t even come into their camp
to talk with Moses;
Moses has to go to a special tent outside the camp, with Joshua as a guard,
and only there
will God speak
with Moses.
And there
Moses and God
have the conversation
we read today.
God is mad,
but Moses isn’t particularly happy, either.
Because as far as he’s concerned,
yes, the people have messed up,
but God...well God has kind of reneged on his side of the deal as well.
And what that does
is leave Moses stuck in the middle.
Stuck as the go-between
between God who isn’t speaking with the people,
and the people
who don’t dare speak with God.
And what it feels like to Moses
is that he’s getting blamed by everyone.
And then there are the outsiders,
the Egyptians, the tribes in the wilderness, the residents of the promised land,
all of them are sure to be looking on at what’s going on,
the Israelites first killing one another and then suffering from plagues, then wandering around looking wretched,
and Moses, supposedly their leader, the one who dragged the people out of Egypt,
Moses still off in a tent
talking with what seems to them like some imaginary God.
The outsiders
have got to be thinking
that they’re all crazy, the Israelites, Moses, and their God,
And so Moses turns to God:
“What were you thinking???? You said
‘Bring these people out of Egypt.’
Are you going
to abandon us all?
Do you realize
what that will mean?
Remember your promise.
Remember that these are your people - you said so.
Please, please, show us the way forward.
Please, please, go with us...”
And then, I imagine, Moses waits, terrified that God will strike him down
for his presumption
in telling God
what to do.
And God’s answer?
“Yes. I will do what you ask. I know you, and you have found favor with me. And I will show you my goodness, I will show you
myself.”
This chapter of the story began badly.
We could have expected it to end
even worse.
Instead
it ends
with the most incredible grace.
God promising
to go with the people
who have betrayed him
God promising to show himself
to his faithful
but pretty much hope-less
servant.
It’s the grace that gets you
every time.
When I began thinking about this reading,
the question that kept bugging me
was
“How do I treat God? Do I take God
for granted?
Do I treat God
as badly
as the Israelites did?
And if I do,
id there any reason to expect
that God will treat me
any better?”
And my thoughts then led me
to think about how easy it is
to be too busy for God - until there’s a crisis,
and we suddenly want God on our side.
And how we expect God
to be like a candy machine,
endlessly replenished;
just put in a quarter
and get out a gumball.
And you probably know
where you get to from there.
Feeling really guilty
for treating God like dirt.
Or really angry at God
for making you feel that way.
Just like the Israelites,
mad and scared.
But then I began
to actually listen to that conversation
between Moses and God.
A conversation
that wasn’t about blaming and guilt and failure
but about promises
and hope and new beginnings,
promises and hope and new beginnings on all sides,
for the people
and Moses
and God.
Grace, that’s what it’s about.
In the last couple of weeks, I began reading a book
by Cathleen Falsani
a journalist who writes a religion column
for the Chicago Sun-Times.
It’s called “Sin Boldly”
ad it’s sub-title is “A Field Guide for Grace.”
And in chapter one
she offers this definition
of grace:
“Justice is getting what you deserve.
Mercy is not getting what you deserve.
And grace is getting what you absolutely don't deserve.”
Or, the alternative, from an old Indigo Girls song:
"There was a time I asked my father for a dollar,
and he gave it a $10 raise."
Moses is begging for a buck,
survival for the Israelites.
what he gets is grace,
the presence of God for the people
and a vision
of God’s very own self.
Grace isn’t about
what we deserve.
It’s about what God
gives us,
free and clear,
the unexpected gift
of God’s presence
and a whole lot more
beside, courage
and peace
and strength
and vision
and hope.
As Moses said, a few years later on his deathbed,
“Be strong and bold; have no fear or dread, because it is the Lord your God who goes with you; he will not fail you or forsake you.”
© Raewynne J. Whiteley 2008