Bread and Whine

Scripture: When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, "What is it?" For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, "It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat. Exodus 16:14-15

 It is hard to overestimate the importance that the time in the wilderness plays for Jewish believers. Week after week in the synagogues, the worshippers hear the Torah read, and so find themselves in the shoes (or sandals) of their wandering ancestors, walking through the desert for 40 year - chapter after chapter, week after week, until they climb with Moses on Mt. Nebo and get a peak view of the promised land. And the following week, the readings begin anew with the Creation... In a sense, they are always wandering!

Of course they know that this is not the whole story. There is the time of arrival: taking possession of the promised land, there is the Golden Age, with King David, and Salomon building the temple in Jerusalem. There is the disaster, the time of exile, and the time of rebuilding. There are stories about settling, about putting down roots, about coming home, and beginning a new life: as settlers, as farmers, as citizens...

And yet, from the very beginning, and throughout the history of God's people, there is this warning the prophets set before them: Do not forget where you come from! Do not forget when your ancestors were without a home. Do not forget when you were slaves in a foreign land - and then God freed you! And as much as you would want to jump right over that: do not forget the forty long years when you were wandering through the desert...

Do not forget the desert.

Bordering on the Promised land, Moses warns the people: "When the Lord your God brings you into this promised land... then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery." (In Deuteronomy 6:10f)

Do not forget!

***

The desert may not be the most inviting place. But here is the thing:

Throughout Israel's journey with their God, the time in the desert wasn't just a time of hardship and deprivation, but, as the prophets later would remind them, also a time of courtship of a young Israel with God. At a time when they were nothing: mere possession, slaves, stuck in a dead end of history... God called them and freed them! And once they had crossed through the waters on the bottom of the abyss, and their own feet stepped on the desert ground, God started creating in them a new identity: Taking their old identity of abuse and hurt... and transforming them, giving them a new life: as people of God.

And the central lesson plan in God's school of a new life was this: the daily meal. Manna. Nothing fancy nor luxurious, but a basic sustenance. But through this simple gift, these former slaves learn a new way of life: they begin to learn... to trust. That God provides. That God cares for them. And gives them what they need.

Learning to trust is a hard lesson - particularly for former slaves, even more when you're in such a hostile surrounding. And so it is not surprising that their first reaction to the miraculous heavenly blessing is to collect some extra for the rainy day fund. However, as they soon come to see: manna is a gift that cannot be hoarded, rather, when they try to gather more than their share for the day, the extra becomes worm ridden and foul. But soon they have to learn: nothing can be put away for tomorrow.

The Israelites learn to trust that God provides for their daily need. Each and every day. Even in the desert.

***

Of course we're living in quite a different setting. Most of us do not share the background of former slaves. And also the poverty-level of wandering beduins through the desert is something rather foreign to us. And yet, what we do know all too well is the impulse of the Israelites to put something away for later. To put something to the side. Because you never know.

Some have called this a "culture of scarcity": that we grow up being told until we tell it to ourselves, that we never have enough or do enough... Or even worse:

That we are not enough.

And so we put something to the side. We collect stylish clothes, impressive titles, happy pictures... Because you never know. We invest in programs... sign our kids up to extra-curricular activities... after all we don't want them to miss out...

So that we can tell ourselves that we are decent people, that we can show to others that we are actually really blessed... while afraid that others could see right through us, and see us as how needy or imperfect we really are.

And there are constantly new books out there that teach us to do better and be better, gurus and authors who promise how to become rich or truly great… If only we did such-and-such, as a family, as a church, as a believer... we would get where we always longed for...

Except... maybe there is just manna in the desert.

I got to admit: The desert does not sound very attractive even as a metaphor just for our spiritual lives. Desert isn't really where I want to be. Desert sounds like hardship, austerity. Desert is someone going through a personal crisis, or grief, or depression, or bankruptcy...

The desert reminds us of what we would like to hide by all means from everybody else: that we, too, are vulnerable, that life at time is very hard, and that we, too, are just breath.

And yet we're told: "Do not forget..." Because we are still promised Manna: God's providence and lovingkindness, every day anew.

And so we are gathered here together with this Word, at this table, and we share each other’s hunger... And while everything in us is screaming: this can't be enough, somehow in breaking bread and sharing each other's hunger, he takes this bread again, gives thanks, breaks it, and gives it to us all...

And it will be enough.

And we are enough.

October 16, 2016    Thomas Dummermuth         tdummermuth@eastridge.org