“...a fine flaky substance...”

OT Lesson and Sermon Text:  Exodus 16: 2-15

NT Lesson:  John 6: 25-35

Dr. Matthew Brown

September 18, 2005

 

 

So, you’re sitting there in the long line of the left turn lane, the metronomic click of your watch’s second hand beating in tune with the throbbing in your aching head.  It’s already been a long day and yes, there are many figurative and literal miles to go before you sleep.  And you’re late, you’re late, for a very important date, your mind conjuring up visions of a conference room filled with frustrated faces, aggravated sighs, and the reflexive flipping of wrists to see what Seiko says.

 

Owing to some combination of aging eyes and the sunlight’s glare, you find yourself squinting in those interminable moments before the arrow flashes green.  Will it ever turn green, or has your evil Uncle Edgar, who you’ve never liked and who you suspect would like to knock off any potential beneficiary of Aunt Bertie’s will, have commandeered the controls at traffic signal central?

 

The euphoria, the relief, the hope generated by the sight of red becoming green instantly evaporates as you fail to see any left-leaning cars taking advantage of their sudden freedom.  Somebody needs their reflexes tested.  Would you go already?  Finally one lonely car ever so slowly inches through the intersection, followed by far too long a gap before a second insanely expensive auto takes advantage of it’s state of the art, computerized, electronic power steering system.

 

Do you remember the cartoon dialogue bubble that inevitably appeared over Charlie Brown’s head when he lost it?  The emboldened, capitalized word was spelled something like - AAARRRGGHH!!!  Well, let’s just say that’s the sanitized version of what you found yourself screaming inside the cloistered confines of your idling auto.

 

If life in the left lane is fast, then life in the left turn lane is torturous.  The left turn lane is a dreadful and gruesome setting that induces dark thoughts and copious complaints.  The left turn lane, the restaurant (Hi, my name’s Kelly and I’ll be your server.  How may we dis-satisfy you today?), the express lane at the grocery store (I know he has at least thirteen items in that cart.), the principal’s office, the physician’s waiting room (You think he got stuck in traffic on the way back from the golf course?), and yes even, the church (“Following the benediction, we invite you to join us in the fellowship hall for a time of coffee and complaining.”)  

 

If we could produce electricity from the grievances generated in these spots, we would never fear an energy crisis.

 

A colleague pondered what we learn about our society based on what we whine about.  An interesting question, but we whine about everything!  The temperature.  The sun.  The rain.  The neighbor.  The food.  The boss.  The employee.  The customer.  The traffic.  The texture of the toilet paper.  The music’s too fast, too slow, too loud, too soft.  The teacher complains about the parents.  The parents complain about the teacher.  The child complains about everyone.  So seldom is heard an encouraging word and the skies will be cloudy all day.

 

Do you ever think God is tempted to just hit the mute button?

 

The enslaved children of Abraham escaped in the night; angels and clouds of fire had protected them behind and before; the waters of the sea parted in front of them and they crossed the sea bed on dry ground; the Egyptian army had been destroyed; they had reached the relative safety of the wilderness, and so it was time for them to give thanks?  No, apparently it was time to complain.  They were hungry and like a growing child at four in the afternoon, they were hungry now!  Can’t you wait til dinner?  “But I’m starved!!”

 

“The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness.  The Israelites said to them, ‘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.”

 

But wait a minute.  They had not been fat and happy, sitting by overflowing barbeques in Egypt.  They were slaves.  Their meager daily rations would never have kept pace with the daily quotas of hard labor that had been expected of them.  Hunger and malnutrition have always been the constant companions of those enslaved.

 

Isn’t it amazing that when we are dis-satisfied or discontent, the past becomes this wonderful place to which we wish to return?  Have you ever noticed how we tend to oversentimentalize the past, the “good ol’ days”?  Coming from all over the country and beyond, we glorify our memories of our hometowns where the food was always tastier, the people always kinder, the traffic always smoother, the schools always better, the churches always holier, the tomatoes always juicier, the moon always closer, the grass always greener.  

 

In our self-righteous distemper we gloss over the fact that the good ol’ days weren’t always so good.  The house isn’t as big as we remember.  The trips to the dentist, doctor, and the auto mechanic were no less traumatic.   The neighbors were just as crotchety and the garbage trucks left a trail of stink there, too.  Why would we ever think that the solution to our present woes would be to sentimentalize the past?  Being wistful about slavery in Egypt is probably no more ridiculous than the many mind games we play to justify our angst in the present.

 

I guess you could say that our complaints are the destination down that road of least resistance.  It is far easier to register a complaint than to work toward a resolution.  Thus is statesmanship supplanted by grousing and community crumbles into criticism and God goes reaching for that mute button.

Yet, in spite of the unrelenting dyspeptic murmuring of the people, we find a great note of grace in this passage as God provides for them.

 

“At twilight you shall eat meat,” the Lord informs them, “and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.”

 

The very One revealed in the spectacular signs of a night time escape, a cloud of protection, and a miraculous sea crossing is now seen in the regular provision of food.  That “fine flaky substance” was a sign for Israel and for us that the Lord does indeed “give us this day our daily bread.”

As we recently discovered to our embarrassment and chagrin in New Orleans, you can’t promise a people escape and then forget to bring the bread.  We don’t live by bread alone, but we don’t live long without it, either.  And so, in our text today we see that the same God who is revealed in the spectacular signs at the sea, is also evident in the grace of a daily meal.  The Lord who delivers, also sustains - whether we’re speaking of the food that feeds our bodies or the bread of life that feeds our spirits.

 

When you say the grace for your meal, do you mean it?  Or are your thin thanks quickly swallowed up by the complaints of the day.  Where there is no thanksgiving, the murmurs of complaint will quickly fill the void.

 

What are the daily graces for which you should be on your knees in thanks?  One of the incomprehensibly frightening experiences in the aftermath of Katrina has been the separation of family members.  Our own Lindalee Macauley, who has been working tirelessly in the effort to help evacuees, tells of a 14 year old girl who was evacuated to Charlotte while her mom was evacuated to Atlanta.  Can you imagine her fear as she found herself alone in a strange city on a coliseum bunk with no knowledge or assurance of where in the country her mother might be?  Friday, the news carried the similar story of frightened a young boy separated from his father.  May I always carry with me the memory of that boy and his raw display of emotion as he leapt into his father’s arms just off a television news set.  It certainly challenges one’s notions about the “burden” of parenting. 

 

What is it that should be leading you to your knees in daily thanksgiving?  I know it is about the only cure for the contagion of complaint plaguing this world.

 

I wish I could tell you that upon the receipt of that bread from heaven, the wilderness wanderers went forth whistling hymn tunes and singing God’s praises, but soon the murmuring would be manifest once again when the people concluded that there was not enough variety in this miraculous menu.  And yet, our Lord would continue to provide.  Our faithlessness has time and again been met with God’s faithfulness.  Our grumbling meets God’s goodness.  Our ingratitude overwhelmed by God’s grace.  “While we were yet sinners, Christ Jesus died for us.”

 

The writer of Proverbs penned a wonderful prayer that says, “Two things I ask of you; do not deny them to me before I die:  Remove far from me falsehood and lying; give me neither poverty nor riches; feed me with the food that I need, or I shall be full, and deny you, and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’ or I shall be poor, and steal, and profane the name of my God.”  So, give us Lord our daily bread, that we may sing the praises of the One who truly feeds us. 

 

Amen.   

 

 

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