September 28, 2008

God's Sustaining Presence

by Julianne Stokstad

Years and years ago Bob and I decided to go on our first family backpacking trip. It was summer 1973, Erik was four, and Paul had just turned three. As we drove up Highway 299 in the Owens Valley we had great expectations of a new kind of family adventure. Bob and I carried heavy packs and the boys carried snacks and a few treasures in their little Snoopy packs. As the temperature warmed up and the trail grew steep and stretched out before us, it became clear to the boys that this wasn't like other trips. I vividly remember the brown rocky exposed steep grade, winding up to the pass. The trail was wide and very dusty; there were signs of horses, which endlessly fascinated our little boys. As the sun moved overhead it got hotter and hotter. The going was sweaty and slow. One of the boys began to lose heart. Every few yards, he'd fling himself on to the ground, "I'm tired" or "It's too hot" or "I want a drink of water" he'd cry out. One complaint after another, he cried, he whined as he fell down. He didn't like it one bit and he made it awful for us all. He had a lot to learn.

The Israelites too were whining, even thankless, our scripture tells us, as they camped at Rephidim in Sinai desert. On their mythic journey away from slavery toward the Promised Land, they were in uncharted territory. They'd never been where they were before and they were full of complaints and questions. How much longer will it take? Are we there yet? We are hot and tired and have blisters. We are thirsty. We don't like this at all. We wish we'd never come. It was better back in Egypt. They complained bitterly to Moses even going so far as to threaten to kill him.

It was a hard and challenging journey. Over and over in the wilderness they complained, criticized, found fault and blamed who ever was nearby. Scholars call it the murmuring tradition. I think I heard some murmuring right here when I asked everyone to get up and change to a different pew this morning. Most everyone hates change.

It's a familiar pattern on our life journey. We get comfortable and complacent with what is and when something changes and we miss the comfort of what was and murmur. The one in charge usually tries to do something in response to the complaints (in this case Moses prays to God) and finally the needs are met (God gives some instructions that help in some miraculous way).

For the Israelites, it was in the time of the exodus that they came to a greater knowledge of and relationship with God. For us too, in our church, it is in uncertain times of discomfort that we are called to reflect and grow in our knowledge of and relationship with God.

The wilderness is more than just a desolate place; it becomes a state of mind, a metaphor for our faith and trust in the face of our needs in times of change. In dry desert places, it is hard to find water, the very thing we need to sustain our lives, but the scriptures aren't only referring to our physical needs. It is all too easy to get our physical needs and our spiritual needs confused. They are so closely tied together. The scriptures are about water but water is a metaphor for God's word. Truth is that this living water often seems absent when we become afraid. It is in the rock hard places of our fears where the truth of God's presence can burst forth just as the water came gushing out of the rock when Moses struck it. And nobody is going to complain about bubbling fresh living water refreshing us and meeting all our needs.

So why have I focused on fearful complaining? Because it is so much more powerful than we can imagine. It is more contagious than the worst flu. It can tear the soul of a community apart. Its powerful negative energy can poison relationships and destroy community.

So what kind of a church would start a big new project in a time of transition? Many years ago, now, this church became inspired with a vision to remodel the church. The church used to be darker, with only a few windows. It cost far more than this small church could afford, but with vision, hard work and faith it came to fruition. We all enjoy this beautiful sanctuary. But the vision is not yet completed. Look outside at the courtyard. It too was a part of the origin vision. It all stopped until the next minister came. It took a while to get going again and finally a courtyard committee began to work. Members were invited at the annual meeting and polled for their hopes. A beautiful plan has been created. It came together smoothly, with amazing consensus and I love this plan. And now, my strong vision and hope is that the church will take this on. Why? It is time. If it is put off again, it won't happen for a very long time. Practically, we must become ADA compliant. All the meeting rooms are not. We need to deal with drainage. We need water up here---have you noticed that even with Jean Starkweather's loving care, the plants are tattered and dying. Do we ever need to bring water to this dry place! The plan is here. What kind of a church would start a big new project in a time of transition?

And so why would we not take on a new project in this time? The only reason I can come up sounds to me like murmuring. Fear is THE greatest enemy! Fear because the minister is leaving. Truth is I have not done a single thing for this plan. The leadership is here and in place. Fear because of uncertain economic times? Resources are here. What kind of a church would start a big new project in a time of transition? It seems to me that for this church to take on a project now is an act of courage and faith and that is who I see this little church to be. There could be no greater gift you can give me from my time of leadership here than to have the courage to begin this project. The question really is about trusting God and holding the vision.

Murmurings come from fear, from holding on to past expectations of needs not met. Murmurings from a lack of courage or a lack of faith, from losing sight of God's sustaining presence. If murmuring becomes a bad habit in our human relationships we have to watch out because it easily carries over to our relationship with God. Whether it is born out of distrust or lack of faith, murmuring really is a kind of test of God's faithfulness. The Israelites felt they needed Moses to communicate with God, but we are Protestants! We don't need a Moses or a Pope or even a minister to beguile God to be with us. We know from our experience, faith and trust that God is with us!

Going back to our young dramatic son on his first hard hike, he was nursed up the mountain by his very patient father who encouraged him, helped him to find his strength and who stayed with him all the way. We are taught and learn how to cope with challenges, by those who love us, and so much more does God love us. The Israelites were slow learners and so are we, but God is ever patient with us. God sent prophets--Moses, Jeremiah, Isaiah and finally God sent Jesus to teach us about God's faithfulness, patience and love for us. And it is our responsibility to grow up and to be responsible and accountable to God with actions. We are called to walk our talk.

Just like children learn to trust from people in their lives who love them, we learn to trust God. Like the Israelites, when we go on a journey of growth, we have to come to trust in God. We have expectations and we don't like being uncomfortable and thirsty. When we are shaken up, and something we don't expect happens, our grumbling and murmuring begin. If we look at the exodus story, we see God's incredible patience with grumpy fear-filled people. We can see from a larger perspective that God provided what they needed and that God was always with them on their journey. And so God is with us. God has promised God's sustaining presence to be with us. God's faithful people are right here. Look around!

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