November 12, 2006 Sermon

Food in the Desert
Exodus 16:1-18

We tend to grow blind to God working in our lives. We get tired, cynical. Bad things happen to us and to people we love. Even the blessings we have enjoyed lose their power to amaze and delight us.

During our trip through Genesis and Exodus we have referred repeatedly to Bruce Feiler’s excellent book, Walking the Bible. When he reaches the place in the story where the Hebrews find manna and quail to feed them as they cross the fearsome desert, Feiler reports a few interesting facts. First, the Bible claims that quail appeared each day on the east wind. To this day flocks of quail occasionally get blown into the Sinai Peninsula. Second, manna is real. A puffy, white, sweeter-than-honey substance, manna forms on the tamarisk shrubs that dot the area. It appears each morning and rots by mid-afternoon, as the Bible says.

But do these factual accounts of what Exodus calls miracles undercut our faith in God? If we can give a natural explanation for every event in the story does it lose its supernatural flavor? Does it blind us to God, instead of awakening us to his power?

Not at all, Bruce Feiler claims. He tells of meeting a Bedouin from the Sinai who has eaten manna and quail all his life. He asks whether this makes him feel connected to the ancient Hebrews. The tribesman squirms, then answers, “It is spiritual, because it’s kind of a surprise. Some years you have it; some years you don’t. And you never know which it’s going to be…It’s like a person with no children who suddenly becomes pregnant. It’s a…blessing.”

We can grow blind to God working in the world. We can explain away miracles. We can lose our childlike wonder at God’s mighty works. But God works all the time. The Bible gives us stories, like the manna and quail, which illustrate God’s power. Even in our lives we can, if we look through the eyes of faith, see God still at work. But as time passes our ability to see spiritual blessings can fade. We can become just like those ancient Hebrews, passing through the deserts we make of our lives.

Feast on the spiritual food that restores your ability to see God at work in your life. Do not let yourself slide down into cynicism. Find your food in the desert.

The Hebrews have finally escaped from Egypt. They have passed through the sea, walled up on either side, and then watched as it engulfed their pursuers. They have begun the harsh business of desert travel. They number in the tens, perhaps hundreds, of thousands. Where will all those people get food and water? Forty-five or so days into their journey they start complaining to Moses and Aaron. Exodus tells us that God responds with the promise to, “rain bread from heaven for you.”

That evening quail “came up and covered the camp”. (I guess the Hebrews did not need a dove hunting season, either.) The next morning as the dew evaporates they find “a fine, flake-like thing.” It turns out to be good to eat—genuinely tasty, as the Bedouin of the Sinai can attest to this day. When added to the springs of water which they find each evening, the Hebrews realize that God does provide. They are satisfied, at least for a short while.

We take two lessons from this text. First, God works miracles. Even things which turn out to have perfectly natural explanations, like the manna that still coats the Sinai on occasion, become channels through which God conveys blessings. Second, God provides feasts for us even in the desert.

Living our lives can come to seem like wandering through the desert. We need to find food and water along the way. We need to find God at work along the way. And when we do, we need to celebrate it.

When the Traverse City West football team played Alpena earlier this year, the West center sprinted over to the sideline between plays, grabbed his head coach, Matt Prisk, by the sweatshirt, pointed to a boy on the Alpena team with his other arm, and asked, “Am I supposed to block him?” This might seem like a strange question, and a strange time to ask it, but the West player had a legitimate problem. The Alpena player across the line from him had no legs.

That boy’s name is Jacob Orban. A two-year varsity wrestler, Jacob went out for football this fall. He made the team as a holder for the place kicker and substitute on the defensive line. As the Detroit Free Press reports, Jacob is 5’11”—until he dresses for football. Once he takes off his artificial legs he shrinks to four feet tall. “That’s the size I had them put in the program,” Jacob told the reporter, “because that’s all the bigger I am when I’m playing.” His practice sweatshirt bears his nickname: “Stubby”.

You can see the West player’s dilemma. What would you do? But West’s Coach Prisk did not hesitate to reply, “Hit him. He has earned your respect.” The West boy shrugged, ran back on the field and hit Jacob Orban. After the first couple of plays he reached down to help him up before realizing that Jacob already was “up”. Then he just started treating him like any opponent. After the game I personally witnessed Alpena coach Jack Gebauer, with tears in his eyes, thanking West Coach Prisk. “That’s the first time all year somebody besides our own players in practice took Jake seriously,” he said. “And that’s all Jake ever wanted. Coach, you beat us, but tonight was a real blessing for me.”

Some of us face terrible problems. We all have troubles, though usually nothing as relentless as being born without legs. Regardless, we have a decision to make: shall we turn to God, seeking blessings in the face of whatever problems we face? Make no mistake. I am not preaching some happy-go-lucky, ultimately clueless message. It can get extremely difficult to trust in the power of God when life stinks. But when we do, life can become a lot like a feast in the desert.

We often grow blind to God working in our lives. Do not do this. Every day get suited up, trot out onto that field, and rejoice in the provision of God for your every need. Depend on it. Feast on it.