September 20, 2026 Sermon

For the next couple of months, we will be following the story of the Israelites in the wilderness. Hearing about all their adventures, joys and mishaps.  

But before we move into the wilderness, it might be helpful to hear a recap of what happened before then. If this were a TV show, you can picture a montage subtitled Previously in Exodus.

Exodus begins with the Israelites enslaved in Egypt. Pharaoh is afraid of them, so he works them harder and harder and eventually orders the Hebrew baby boys to be killed.

 Moses survives, grows up, encounters God in a burning bush, and gets called to go back to Pharaoh and demand that he let God's people go.

And Moses does.

There are plagues and arguments and negotiations and a whole lot of drama. Finally, Pharaoh lets the Israelites leave. They walk out of Egypt as free people.

And then Pharaoh changes his mind.

So now these newly liberated people are standing at the edge of the Red Sea with Pharaoh's army coming after them, and they have a very reasonable moment of panic. God makes a way through the water. The Israelites cross. The Egyptian army doesn't.

And then they celebrate.

They sing. Miriam dances. They are free!

Except then they get thirsty.

And they complain.

God provides water.

And they are hungry, complain and now you are caught up.

So they have just experienced one of the greatest acts of deliverance imaginable, and their next thought is basically, "Great. But what are we having for dinner?"

The Israelites are hungry. They don't know where their next meal is coming from. And out of their anxiety they shake their heads and ask, "Why didn't we just stay in Egypt? At least there we had food!"

We could judge them pretty quickly for this statement, and I also want to point out that being hangry is a real thing and makes you say things that you instantly regret. This seems like it might be one of those times.

Fear of the unknown does funny things to our memories. We like what we know, often even when it is not the best for us. When we are anxious about the present, sometimes the past starts looking better than it actually was.We can look back at a previous season of our lives and remember all the good things and conveniently forget the things that made us want to leave that season in the first place. 

Anxiety has a way of editing our memories. Fear of the unknown future makes us revise the past to make it seem the best.

Think of the times you reflect on the good ole days - were they really all that good?

But here's what I really want us to notice in this story.

God doesn't respond to the Israelites with hanger, and saying, "Seriously?"

God doesn't say, Uh, I just delievered you from slavery, split an ocean for you, provided you with water from a rock - how about a thank you? 

Instead, God says:

I will provide for you.

Callie Punket-Brewton describes  a pattern throughout these chapters: the people encounter a threat to their well-being, they complain, the complaint is brought to God, and God responds by providing what they need. I think there is something profoundly compassionate about that.

I think sometimes we imagine that faith means we stop complaining. That if we really trusted God, we wouldn't be anxious. If we really trusted God, we wouldn't have questions. If we really trusted God, we wouldn't occasionally look at the wilderness around us and say, "Um, God? What exactly are we supposed to do here?"

But that isn't the picture Exodus gives us.

The Israelites complain again and again and again.

And God keeps meeting them.

God seems to understand that these people are learning how to be free. Learning how to be free is very important and complex.

The Israelites have been slaves for generations. They knew what Pharaoh expected. They knew what work they had to do. They knew what tomorrow would look like and who would schedule their days, they knew the hierarchy, who they needed to listen too, who they needed permission from to go to the bathroom.

Now they are free. And freedom comes with choices and decisions and the ability to do everything and nothing.

So in God’s compassion, God is listening, and gives what they need in the moment. Gives some freedom structure - in our house, we would call it routines - go out and collect Manna each morning, just enough for today.

This feels so merciful and tender and personal for a God who has just done some majestically big acts. This act of manna is providing not only food but a start of the rhythm of freedom. God is walking backwards with God’s hands out to catch a new walking people, and just like we would catch a falling toddler, God caught these folks each time.

And as beautiful as that image is, I would imagine sometimes we just want God to take charge. Drop down a 5 year plan and a color coded spreadsheet that allows us to know what is coming, and what to prepare for and how to move ahead. I wonder if the Hebrew people wanted God to take charge in the way that Pharoah had, but instead God was teaching freedom.

As you may know, Jim is a computer guy and when I got married I basically lost all knowledge of computers because well “I know a guy.” And there are times when I ask him something and he starts walking me through it - and I say - I don’t want to learn how to do it, I want you to do it for me. Jim wants to teach me to be more self sufficent, and I just want someone else to take charge and get it done. 

But walking with me through a computer thing, and more importantly God walking with us through the new/wilderness/unknown maybe is how trust grows. 

Its not a spreadsheet of data with clear points of clarity, its not about knowing how everything is going to end. But learning, over time, that God has been faithful before and will meet us again.

I wonder if the wider church is walking through the wilderness right now. 

Institutionally, we look back when pews were full, life centered around the church, and the power we had as churches in the US. And we grieve.

When we aren’t looking back, we are looking forward to all kinds of transition in the church. We see many young people living out values that we taught them in church but not wanting to go to church. Church just feels different that it used too. So we know change is happening;  We don't completely know what it will become. There are questions. There are hopes. And there are worries. 

And I think we walk in a wilderness when we don’t know how to talk to other Christians due to the polarities in which we sit. It can be exhausting to watch the news, to wonder what is happening to our communities, our country, our neighbors, our children. Sometimes the wilderness feels very big.

God has worked mightly in the church’s history, and gotten us to this place of needing to learn to walk again with each other and with God. And that can be humbling and scary.

And sometimes the wilderness is more personal. .

A diagnosis.Feeling like friendship is far way. A financial worry. A child who is struggling. A decision you don't know how to make. A future you can't see. 

And in all of these moments, I don't think God is asking us to pretend we're fine.I think God can handle the complaint. The Israelites' complaints are not evidence that they have no relationship with God.Instead,  their complaints are evidence that they do have a relationship with God. They know they will be heard. There is a saying that in good home environments, Kids act their worst with their parents because that is when they feel the most safe and comfortable."

I think that is true with our Heavenly Parent. When we feel safe with God, we can cry out

"God, I'm scared."

"God, I don't understand."

"God, I don't know what you're doing."

"God, where are you?"

The relationship between God and Israel is still being cemented in this story. I would say that as long as we are alive we also are able to grow in our relationship with God..

The stories we will read in the coming weeks often follow a pattern that I too often relate too.

The Israelites complain.

God provides.

Israel forgets.

God provides again.

Israel gets scared.

God meets them there.

Its that pattern that builds the trust, because the Israelites and I would say us can start recongizing the pattern and its the pattern we remember and we can trust in.

As much as my boys would be shocked for me to say - I don't think the invitation is to stop complaining.

I think the invitation is to bring your complaint to God.

Tell God you're hungry. Tell God you're scared. Tell God you're at the end of your rope. Tell God you are beyond overwhelmed. Tell God you aren’t exactly sure what you don’t want to complain about. 

My prayer for you is then you look for the manna, the blessing, that is just enough for today.

Because the wilderness does not mean God has abandoned us. The wilderness does not mean we have failed at faith. Instead, the wilderness is where we can learn to trust. 

We complain.

God listens.

We are afraid.

God meets us.

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

But we can look for the manna in the morning.