September 27, 2009

Earlier this week when I reviewed our appointed lectionary for today and saw this passage from the Book of Numbers, I became really excited.  This account is one of my all time favorites.  Every time I come across the text, I shake my head and smile because within its lines, two poignant and powerful truths are clearly defined and set before us.  One centers on the nature of man and the other establishes the essence of God.

In a story about murmuring ingrates and a beleaguered leader, we learn that humankind seems to have a default set for doubt and fecklessness.  When left to our own devices, we too often and too easily descend into foolishness and anxiety, selfishness and criticism.  And, in the face of this recurring, unhelpful, immature behavior, our omnipotent, benevolent creator does not become exasperated and leave us to our willful, petty conclusions!  When accosted by change, when called into the unknown, human beings tend to react badly.  When challenged and berated by his beloved creation, God endures.  He remains engaged.  He tolerates anger, resentment, even general silliness.  It is a curious, curious, yet fortunate, dynamic for us.

As we open up the text, we see the two reactions at play.  We find the Israelite nation encamped in the desert a little over two years after their escape from Egyptian oppression.  Just 26 months removed from bondage, servitude, poverty and cruelty, they are already rewriting their history.  Though now living in unprecedented freedom, minor inconveniences are too much to bear, and so the complaints begin.  Woe, woe, woe.  If we only had meat to eat.  Remember the good days, the excellent carefree days when we were in beautiful, wonderful Egypt?  Remember the melons and leeks and fresh produce?  All was ready for us.  All was given to us for nothing.  Remember how well we ate and without toil or striving?  Apparently, the days of making bricks for the pyramids without the requisite straw have been forgotten.  And notice the mature way concerns are expressed.  “Moses heard the people weeping throughout their families, all at the entrances of their tents.”  Instead of requesting a face-to-face meeting to discuss options and strategies, the body turns to hand wringing and gossip.  One anxious soul stirs up another.  Speculation and unease swirl and ignite.  This manna isn’t going to sustain us forever.  Saul was over at the provision tent and he heard whispers that the supply is running low.  Murmur, murmur.  Do you think Moses knows where we are?  I think we’re probably lost and he’s just afraid to tell us.  Think about it.  What do we really know about this Moses?  Do you remember his people?  You have to wonder, who puts a baby in the bulrushes?  Why did we follow him out here?  Yeah, and there’s always sand in my tent!  How soon, how easily sane, faithful people lose perspective.  Gone from their consciousness is the unbearable burden of serving Pharoah.  Vanished, like smoke of a sacrifice, is the memory of worshipping foreign Gods and hiding away beloved traditions in favor of the oppressor’s customs and values.  Woe, woe, woe. Murmur. Murmur.

As the story continues, we see it isn’t only the masses who lose themselves to immature impulses.  When Eldad and Medad, two certified elders, miss the initiation ceremony and began their work without it, a young aide cannot contain himself.  He runs to Moses to rat them out.  “Eldad and Medad are prophesying in the camp.”  And even Joshua, the second in command over the entire enterprise, falls victim to the hysteria.  “Oh my Lord Moses, stop them!”  So easily, God’s beloved lose all perspective.  So easily, the faithful become undone and doubt filled.  Confidence, trust and calm ebbs.  Anxiety, resentment and pettiness rise and soon God’s well ordered plan is forgotten.

Leaders the Lord raises up and equips with mighty skills and persuasive voice are not immune!  They, too, seem to falter when change and unease threaten.  The stalwart, anointed Moses hears the people’s weeping and dissent and loses his grip on restraint.  The text says he becomes “displeased.”  In his frustration with the whining masses, in his weariness with too many complaints, Moses turns on the Lord.  He laments, “Why have you treated your servant so badly?  Why have you laid the burden of all these people on me?  Who am I to deal with their issues?  They’re your creation.  You’re the one with the plan and covenant.  Take them back to the land of their ancestors.  It’s too much.  All they do is fuss and moan!  Honestly, I want out.  If you care for me even a mote, just put me down, let me die.  Moses is angry and tired.  He is not interested in being a faithful, mature, obedient adult or spiritually centered.  He wants relief with a little retribution on top.  In his heart of hearts, in this moment, Moses wants to hand back his mantle of responsibility and he’d like to see the complaining, ungrateful hordes severely chastised.  If the Lord smote a couple, he’d say good riddance.  He’s tired of them and he’s tired of the Lord’s work being so draining and unrewarding.  Just as the people rail and weep bitter tears against Moses, so Moses rants and assails God.

It seems the human condition to lose faith and calm judgment when under attack.  Annoyances, changed plans, uncertainties erode our resolve.  We forget God’s providence.  We forget his power and promises.  We flutter and flail, shake our fists and howl, why me?  It’s so unfair. 

And the Lord endures.  The Lord God is not like us.  He is ever so superior in every way.  He does not give into peckishness or a grieved spirit.  He remains controlled, thoughtful, judicious, and reasonable.  In our account this morning, the Lord listens to Moses’ diatribe.  He hears it all the way through.  He takes the rant, holds it, considers and fixes the problem.  Not one word of rebuff is uttered.  Not one raised eyebrow, not one warning, not a single defense or explanation is offered.  Moses spews frustration.  God takes the bile and creates a solution.  Moses is overburdened and underappreciated.  God brings him help.  The lord doesn’t leave the angry, tormented servant in exile or limbo.  He doesn’t punish him for his tone or arrogance.  He answers the less than respectful plea with graciousness.  Unlike humankind, the Lord is not undone by hostile critique.  He stays the course and affects the necessary change.  Seventy elders will be commissioned.  They will share the onerous burden of settling disputes, hearing complaints and articulating God’s grand vision for the chosen people.  The course has been adjusted.  Calm will prevail, for a while.  Under the Lord’s watch, by the grace of his steady head and hand, the resettlement will go forward.  The covenant promised generations ago will be honored.  The descendants of Abraham will continue to derail themselves.  The Lord will continue to put them right.  The dynamic is set. 

Human beings, righteous though they try to be, lose faith too easily.  They cry out “alas,” “alack,” and “woe,” when God’s steady presence should elicit, “amen,” “alleluia,” “all is well.”  And although it is our “nature” to waver and doubt, and although our gracious God makes allowances for our childishness, perhaps it need not be our eternal destiny.  Sometimes recognizing an unattractive, unproductive behavior is the impetuous for positive change.  Sometimes seeing our foolishness exposed is sufficient motivation to rise to a higher standard.  Perhaps having the image of weeping rabble consumed with leeks and melons and garlic in our minds will prick our conscience when we find ourselves finding fault and doubting the goodness of God’s providence.  Perhaps instead of grieving his gracious, compassionate spirit with complaints and idle chatter, we can turn to God with praise and thanks, gratitude and confidence. 

And, if the story told so long ago of Eldad, Medad, Joshua and Moses, meatless suppers and Egyptian cucumbers can inspire more enduring faith and move us to more mature interactions, then it is indeed a holy word worth recalling.  Dear friends, may be depart this place resolved to minimize our carping and maximize our thankfulness.

Let us reset our default from woeful to joy filled, for in truth we are rightly, mightily blessed. 

Amen.