This week in
our reading from the Hebrew scriptures (Exodus 16:2-15) the Israelite's are in the wilderness just six weeks when they start living in the
past. Hungry and cranky, realizing they don’t know where they’re going or how
they’ll get there or how long it will take, with no established religion or
government, no social safety net, and no leftovers— they complain. “If only we
had died in Egypt where we sat around and ate as much as we wanted!” (Ah,
flawed memories!)
God again
listens to their cries and provides abundance they could never have imagined.
This is the central wilderness experience, the first of many lessons in the
making of a people. God says, “I will be your God,” calls them “my people,”
then needs to teach them what that means— they have to work the vision making
process and discern a mission statement (“Love the Lord with all your heart,
soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbour as yourself,” seems pretty
good!).
They need to
wander in order to discover that God will lead them if they will follow. They want
to look back without rose-coloured glasses so they can look forward with hope.
They need to learn that God is love and discern who God is calling them to be.
This first lesson is learning to rely on God’s goodness and abundance. It
sounds cliché and naïve now, and I suspect then, too— but alone out in the
desert, the Israelites literally depended on God for their daily bread, their
safety, their lives.
Even as they
learn the stark truth that we are all dependent on God despite our perceived
independence, they learn of God’s faithfulness. They learn that hoarding
doesn’t get us anywhere. They learn that God’s abundance comes along with
justice— not whatever I want, but what we, the community, need. The story is a
familiar one. It happens again and again, not just on the Hebrew people’s trek
through the wilderness, but in our communities today. When times are tough,
when we are threatened, when we are afraid, it is hard to remember our
blessings, and very easy to focus on what is lacking.
Nor should we
underestimate the difficulties of life in the desert. The routines of Egypt—
whatever their hardships— were a known quantity. Life as slaves is difficult,
but survivable. The wilderness, though, has no known support system. But when
the waters of the sea closed over Pharaoh’s army, God burned any bridge back to
Egypt. The story of manna in the desert is rightly understood as God’s
providential care, God’s mercy for the people, and God standing with them to
see them through— bread from heaven, indeed. What are we to make, though, of
the Lord’s purpose? The Lord speaks to the peoples. God needs to “test them to
see whether they follow Instruction or not.”
“What is it?”
the people exclaim, when they encounter this manna. Apparently, this is a test
indeed. This manna is food (the Egyptian word mennu means “food”), but it is
strange food (the Arabic man hu means “This is insect secretions”). God will
faithfully send manna throughout the time in the wilderness. Is the “testing” a
part of the Lord’s teaching process, reinforcing again and again that God is trustworthy
and worth following?
Today it is
enough to remember that we are tested like this all the time. More than a
thousand years after this story, Jesus will teach that asking for daily bread
is enough to pray. We might wish for a lifetime supply of our favourite
delicacies, but can we be thankful for what God provides? For the gift of life?
For all that God has done and has promised?
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