Manna
A sermon for Sunday, September 20th, based on Exodus 16:2-15 and Philippians 1:21-30.
Would you pray with me?
God, we are tired. God, we are worn. God, we are ready for your kingdom to be here and now. Be with us in this time and this place. And may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable to you, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
After a long spring and an even longer summer, fall is almost here, and I couldn’t be more thankful. I’m so ready for this little bit of normal, this promised and faithful change in the weather, to come into this world that has been so abnormal for these past six months. COVID has tired me out and I’m ready for a break.
Our passage this morning is a gift from the lectionary, a break from our time with the teachings of Jesus. We’re taking this break because we need it, because even though Jesus does tell us to come unto him, for his burden is easy and his yoke is light, I, in my infinite wisdom, did not put that particular passage into this sermon series, and I feel that we need a brief spot of comfort today.
So this morning, we join the Israelites in the wilderness. They have come out of Egypt, through the freeing work of the Lord, crossed the Red Sea, and now they find themselves hungry and wandering, unsure of where to go next, two and a half months after leaving Egypt. They, too, are tired, exhausted, even, living in an uncertain present with an even more uncertain future. The people are at their breaking point, and so they say to Moses, in verse 3, “ If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”
“Sure,” the Israelites say, “Sure, we were enslaved in Egypt, and Pharaoh murdered our sons and kept us in captivity, but at least there was bread! At least there was soup with meat in it! What good is freedom if we’re just going to starve? Freedom doesn’t feed us.”
Now, we might look at them with pity, and maybe a little bit of sass. These are the people who God led out of Egypt! These are the people who saw the plagues, who lived through the first Passover, who walked through the Red Sea on dry land, who have been led by a pillar of cloud and fire. These people have seen God’s wonders, have experienced God’s saving grace firsthand, and only two and a half months later, they’re complaining because they don’t have enough meat in their diet? Have they forgotten who God is?
But let me tell you something. When you’ve spent every day of your life struggling to keep it, you don’t exactly have the space to notice when your hunger is clouding your judgement. When every moment is spent in survival mode, quiet moments of self-analysis are hard to come by. When you have spent generations longing for freedom, there is a necessary period of adjustment, because if the world around you was built on your oppression, it isn’t going to welcome your freedom. Freedom is the first, but not the only step, on the way to abundant life, and freedom does not feed us.
Praise be to God, though, that God hears our cries, even when our leaders, just as tired as we ourselves are, treat our complaints with contempt. Manna, a pure gift from God, bread enough for the Israelites to eat their fill, falls from the sky. They fled from Egypt without waiting for their bread to rise, doing what they had to do to escape into freedom, and as soon as they ask for it, the bread of the wilderness is given to them for their sojourn. And quail as well, a gracious gift of protein for bodies long overworked and under-cared for.
Friends, our bodies are overworked and they need care and my guess is that our spirits are much the same. We have lived in the struggle that the Apostle Paul speaks about. We have been striving to live our lives in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, striving to live into our best understanding of the good news of our Lord Jesus. I can’t speak to the condition of your spirit, because that is something only you and God truly know, but speaking for myself, I find I am caught in the same conundrum as Paul. I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; but there is so much left to do here, in this place, that to remain is more necessary. How I long for the coming reign of God, when the good harvest is done and the rest can begin! How I long for the fullness of peace, the presence of justice and grace, to be here and now! How I long for the day when Jesus makes all things right!
And yet, I know, there is manna in the wilderness. Though we are weary, God will give us strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. Though we are burdened, it is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Though there is still a long road ahead of us before we finally arrive in the promised land, a road that will require strength and dedication and creativity, we do not walk it alone. God hears us. God hears us. And God is always more ready to hear than we are to pray, more ready to give than we are prepared to receive. God is always with us, even in this season of tiredness, and more than that, God is ready and waiting to revive us. All we have to do is ask.
We’re tired, yes. Living is hard right now, yes, and for many, it’s been hard for a long, long time. But thanks be to God for the promise of a better life for all, for rest for our weary selves. Take the time to rest, because you need it. Always be ready to rest, because God calls us to it. Take the time to ask God to give you what you need for the days ahead, because God is ready to give it. But more than anything else, do all that you can to prepare yourselves for the road ahead. We’ve still got a ways to go.
Amen.