O.M.C

Speed-bumps on the Road to the Promised Land

A sermon based on Exodus 17:1-7

Don Friesen
February 24, 2008
Ottawa Mennonite Church

www.ottawamennonite.ca

An old man was in the habit of having his lunch at a local diner, and every day he ordered the same thing: the soup of the day, and bread. One day the manager asked him how he liked the meal. "It was good," replied the old man. "It was good, but you could give me a little more bread. Two slices of bread is not enough." So the next day the manager told the waitress to give the man four slices of bread. "And how was your meal, sir?" asked the manager when the man came to pay for his lunch.

"It was good, but a little more bread would be nice."

So the manager gave instructions to serve the man eight slices of bread. The next day he asked again, "Sir, how was your meal?"

"Good. Good. Just a little more bread, please."

The next day the man received a whole loaf of bread, sixteen slices in all! And he was asked the inevitable question when it was time to pay the bill: "How was your meal, sir?"

"It was good, but I would like if you gave me just a little more bread."

By now the manager of the diner was obsessed with trying to satisfy this regular customer. He went to the bakery and bought a six-foot-long loaf of bread, and when the man came in for lunch, the manager cut the loaf in half, buttered the entire length of each half, and laid it out along the counter, right next to the man's bowl of soup. The old man sat down to his lunch, devoured both his bowl of soup and both halves of the six-foot-long loaf of bread. Thinking that he had finally met this man's expectations, the manager asked, "And how was your meal today, sir?" Replied the old man, "It was good – as usual – but I see that you're back to serving only two slices of bread!"

The Biblical Thread of Complaint

People who complain and grumble about anything at all may be bothersome, but grumbling is a biblical tradition. The thread of biblical complaints begins in Genesis already. Cain killed his brother and then had the audacity to complain when the fruit of his own anger came back to bite him! (Genesis 4:13-14) Abraham complained on occasion. (Genesis 21:25) Jonah keeps up a low-key grumble throughout his book, and loses perspective altogether when he complains bitterly about God taking away his shade on a hot day! (Jonah 4:8) Get a grip, Jonah!

The scribes and the Pharisees complained when the apostles didn't wash their hands the required number of times. (Luke 5:30) They complained when Jesus shared a meal with sinners (Luke 15:2) They complained when Jesus claimed to be the bread of heaven. (John 6:41) They complained so much that finally Jesus said, "Enough already!" (John 6:43, my paraphrase) The Gospel of John says that "there was considerable complaining about (Jesus)...." (John 7:12) Even his disciples complained on occasion. (John 6:61)

Later, among the first Christians, the Church was growing and amazing things were happening, but that didn't keep complaints and grumbles from surfacing, the Hellenist believers, for example, complaining against the Hebrews because the Hellenist widows weren't getting as much as the Hebrew widows in the daily distribution of food. (Acts 6:1)

You read enough of these complaints and you begin to picture God as a grumbler as well! In fact, someone drew a cartoon picturing a man looking up to heaven and complaining, "Lord, why are all these bad things happening to me?" And in the second frame a big finger emerges from a cloud, points at the man's chest, followed by a voice saying, "Because there is just something about you I don't like."

One of the deuterocanonical writers tells us that "an intelligent person will not complain" (Sirach 10:25), but I think that's wishful thinking. The New Testament is more realistic; it warns us of "grumblers and malcontents ... (who) are bombastic in speech...." (Jude 1:16) It says, "Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive." (Colossians 3:13) The New Testament also suggests that we "be hospitable to one another without complaining." (1 Peter 4:9)

About the only biblical character who may have had cause to complain was Job, who said, "I will complain in the bitterness of my soul." (Job 7:11) And I say, go ahead, Job, release your anguish!

Complaining our Way to the Promised Land

The heyday of biblical complaining occurs around the time of our passage in Exodus. The people of Israel were somewhere between the exodus from Egypt, and the entry into the Promised Land, somewhere between the greatest liberation moment in their history, and the fulfilment of their greatest hopes. Four centuries of slavery in Egypt had finally come to a dramatic end at the Red Sea. And the celebrations began! (Exodus 15) Moses, ever the reluctant leader, who found it difficult to speak in public, sang in public! The prophet Miriam gathered some friends and danced through the night! The community praised God through the night, giving thanks for the greatest deliverance of all! "Faithful to Your promise," they sang, "You led the people You ...rescued; by Your strength You guided them to your sacred land." (Exodus 15:13, TEV)

Their greatest hurdle behind them, people-formerly-known-as-slaves were on their way to the Promised Land! They were ecstatic! Their joy was palpable. And then Moses fell flat on his face in the nearest sand dune! These people were not Bedouins. Three days down the road to the Promised Land they couldn't find any water! (Exodus 15:22) And when they finally found some water, it was hardly drinkable. It was bitter. "And the people complained against Moses" (15:24), and Moses got all agitated and passed the complaints up the chain of command, and God provided the people with sweet water (15:25), as well as leading them to Elim, where there was an abundance of water. (15:27)

The next stop was the wilderness of Sin, which should be our first clue of things to come. This was desert country, a harsh landscape where on some days you couldn't see past the nose on your face for the grit lashing your face. A little like our incessant snowing, only with more wind, grittier, blazing hot in the daytime, and freezing cold at night! "The whole congregation ...complained against Moses and Aaron" (16:2), Exodus tells us. They said, "Would that we had died ...in the land of Egypt, when we (had) pots of meat, when we ate bread to the full; ...you ...brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger." (16:3, NASB) And God said, "I hear you. I hear you. I hear you. You'll get your bread." (16:4-12, my paraphrase) And God provided them with manna.

And so it went on the way to the Promised Land, the pattern repeating itself: murmur and mutter, mutter and murmur, murmur and mutter and grumble! By now, of course, Moses had led them down a route that would be difficult to find in any travel brochure. The route taken has left biblical scholars scratching their heads. This was no beeline for the Land of Milk and Honey. By Exodus, chapter 17, the people of Israel are in the middle of nowhere! If they were starting to entertain doubts about God's guidance, they were certainly doubtful of Moses' leadership. It came to a head when once again they couldn't find any water. (Exodus 17:2) They were very thirsty, and again they complained to Moses: "Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?" (17:4)

Moses didn't take criticism very well, immediately passing it on to God: "What do you want me to do with these people. They're ready to stone me!" (Exodus 17:4, my paraphrase) And again God provided for their needs, finding a way to give them water. (17:5-6) The experience so unsettled Moses, however, that he named the place Massah and Meribah, the one meaning "testing," because Moses felt that the people were putting God to the test, and the other name meaning "complain". (TEV)

A Lesson on Taking Criticism?

What is God trying to teach us in this passage? Some suggest that it's a lesson about taking criticism. It was Moses who bore the brunt of criticism. The Israelites owed Moses. They had Moses to thank for removing the shackles of slavery from their ankles and their souls. Had it not been for Moses they would not have been complaining about water. They'd still be in the midst of it, gurgling in the Red Sea! I don't think they were really serious about wanting to return to Egypt. They had found slavery unbearable! Did they really want to return to those indignities and a life of sustained suffering? I doubt it, and it was most ungrateful and mean-spirited of them to throw those nasty remarks in Moses' face.

Moses, on the other hand, wasn't the most confident leader. When God first approached him, Moses said, "Here am I – Send Aaron!" (paraphrase of Exodus 4:13 and the title of a book by Jill Briscoe) Early on Moses was quick to push the panic button. And let's face it, hunger and thirst are fairly basic human needs. The complaints of the people were not altogether invalid. Oh sure, Moses may have known his way around the Pharaoh's palace, but they weren't at all sure that he could find his way across a desolate landscape.

There was also a sense in which God held Moses accountable for the well-being of His people, and years later God reminded Moses of that. (Numbers 27:14) Maybe Moses benefited from the criticism he received. There's a Hungarian proverb that says, "If one person calls you a horse – laugh at him. If a second person calls you a horse – think about it. If a third person calls you a horse – buy a saddle." (James Armstrong)

Maybe Moses benefited from the criticism he received. He certainly grew in the course of the wilderness wanderings and in response to criticism. He listened to his critics, made adjustments to his leadership style, and sought the help of others. Still, I'm not sure that learning how to take criticism is the foremost lesson of this passage.

A Lesson on Handling Complainers?

Perhaps this passage provides us with a lesson on handling complainers. Some people are habitual grumblers – chronic complainers – perhaps because they've learned that it pays to complain. The surly bird gets the worm! You see it in the grocery store. A petulant, whining little kid pouts and sulks, mumbles and mutters, and finally his or her mom or dad has had enough and gives in to the child's demands. It's one thing to endure a tired child being miserable, it's quite another to see adults adopt a similar disposition. You see chronic complainers coming and you immediately start off in the opposite direction. They're irritating, they sap you of joy, and they rain on your parade.

The Israelites got themselves into such a snit in the wilderness of Sin that they uttered a most childish question, "Is the Lord among us or not?" (Exodus 17:7) What impertinence! They had just experienced the most incredible act of liberation from centuries of enslavement! What petulant ingrates!

Often the murmur-mutter-grumble-complain cycle creates its own loop. You get caught up in a mood, a spirit, a negative attitude. It infects the soul like some malevolent virus. The Israelites were caught in such a loop, and they weren't beyond being melodramatic about the crisis of the moment. They were hungry, but they weren't starving. They were thirsty, but they weren't dying of thirst. When we get caught in a similar loop it's helpful to realize experiencing difficult times is not unique to me.

A Lesson on Trust?

Moses may have gained some experience in handling chronic complainers, but it's not apparent to me that such an ability, useful as it may be, is the focus of this passage in Exodus. I wonder if the foremost lesson of this passage is not trust. The Promised Land is precisely that – a promise that God made. The promise of a land flowing with milk and honey was often forgotten, or eclipsed by panic: "Enough with the milk and honey already! I want some bread – now!" I understand the tyranny of crises, but we should not jump to the conclusion that God is insufficient just because we are panicking. God was remarkably patient with Israel as Israel carped her way through the wilderness, and God demonstrated at every turn – even when the Great Promise encountered an impossible barrier – that the power of God was greater than any obstacle.

I understand the impulse to ask God, "Are you here, or not?" In the midst of overwhelming difficulties it's hard to trust in God. In the middle of messes and major disappointments, it's difficult to remain hopeful, but it's important to keep perspective. In Israel's recent past was the exodus, the most important event in the Old Testament. On the far horizon was the land flowing with milk and honey. Perspective counselled confidence and hope.

There was another reason for the Israelites to hope, one hidden in the details of this passage. They ran out of water in a region known as Horeb. (Exodus 17:6) It's the same place where God appeared to Moses in the burning bush. (Exodus 3:1–6) And had Moses had his wits about him he himself might have been a little more confident, knowing that this was holy ground, the scarcity of water notwithstanding. Horeb was the same place where God supplied water to quench their thirst, and it would be the same place where God would hand over commandments designed to create life in harmony with God and with one another.

God is here, among us

Help was available at Horeb, the very place where the Israelites' complaints rose to a fever pitch. Sometimes help is closer at hand than we may think. God is here – among us, even when there's much to complain about.

When I was a child I found a book in an abandoned attic, a book about the Amazon River. I read it and was impressed with the size and power of this mighty river. It accounts for one-fifth of the world's total river flow, and I remember reading that it was so large and powerful that when it emptied into the ocean the water remained fresh water for almost two hundred miles out to sea!

There is a story of a crew who had to abandon their sea-going vessel and for days they drifted in the Atlantic in a small lifeboat. They had no water, and when it seemed that they would surely die of thirst, they spotted a ship bearing down on them. As it came nearer, they cried out for help, asking for water. A voice from the ship called out, "Let down your bucket where you are." Without knowing it they had drifted into the mouth of the great Amazon River, and though land was out of sight, the water was still fresh, right where they were.

A time of crisis is a time to remember God's leading and protection in the past. It's a time to look around us and discover that God has already placed resources in our midst, right within the Christian community. A time of crisis is also a time to keep our eyes on the prize, on the Promised Land, the New Jerusalem, a world in which every tear will be wiped from our eyes, a world flowing with milk and honey and harmony and love. AMEN


Quotations of Scripture are from the New Revised Standard Version, unless otherwise noted.