“...a fine flaky
substance...”
OT Lesson and Sermon
Text: Exodus 16: 2-15
NT Lesson: John 6: 25-35
Dr. Matthew Brown
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
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
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
As we recently discovered to
our embarrassment and chagrin in
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
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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