There’s an
interesting story in Exodus 15. Right after the kids cross the Red Sea , right after God drowns their enemies, there are
two significant events:
The first is a
party about the multiple miracles in their escape from slavery. Moses and the
kids sang a song about his glory and his strength. It sounds like three million
people (historians’ best guess for the size of the crowd exiting Egypt through
the middle of the Red Sea) spend the better part of a day partying with God, and
Miriam and the ladies took up the refrain and went after it with dance and
tambourines. That is a serious party! Have you ever had three million people at
one of your parties?
After the party,
they headed out into the wilderness, though they weren’t particularly well
prepared for the wild-ness of it, and then the second significant event
happened: the bitter waters of Marah. The hike from the party spot at the edge
of the Red Sea was about three days, and by
the third day, there was a lot of complaining among the community. These people
had been slaves for hundreds of years, and had received their every provision
from their slavers, and who had lived on the banks of one of the greatest
rivers on the planet. They weren’t so good at taking care of themselves, and
never thought they needed to bring water!
But the desert they
were waking through had no water. Unfortunately, there wasn’t one person,
except Moses himself, who had backpacked through the wilderness before, and I’m
thinking Moses had other things on his mind besides telling three million
people how to pack for the journey. The beginning of the trip was hard to plan
for anyway, so it’s not completely unexpected to discover that they didn’t
actually carry three days’ worth of water with them.
So on that third
day, they’re whining and complaining, focusing mostly on their need (their
thirst) when they round the bend and look, there’s water!
And it is there
that the problem exposes itself. Here were a very large number of people who
had been focused on their thirst for the last several miles of their trek
through the wilderness, and when they come around the bend and discover
something new, they interpret it through their focus for the past couple of
days: they make an assumption.
I hate assumptions.
They get me into all sorts of trouble, and it appears that an assumption got
this vagabond community into trouble as well.
The people were so
heavily focused on their lack (of water) and their problem (their thirst), that
when they saw the water they made the assumption
that this water had to be God’s provision for them.
The thought process
apparently went something like this: “I’m following God, and I have a need. Here’s
something that looks like it might be an answer. Therefore I conclude that this
is God’s answer for my need.” Suddenly, the whole world was to be interpreted
through the particular need that they were focused on. (I suspect that there
were other things that this vagabond metropolis needed besides water, but water
appears to be the primary one they noticed at the moment.)
And apparently that
was an incorrect assumption, as the
water wasn’t even drinkable: it was bitter. But they’ve already concluded that
this must be God’s provision for
them, so they go after Moses, who goes to God, and in his mercy, God provides a
solution to the problem of the bitter water.
If the rest of
their journey is any example, and if we’re able to learn from hindsight, then
it is not unreasonable to infer that God’s plan actually had more to do with
water flowing from a rock at the command of the man of God, than it did with a
loving Father’s provision consisting of a nasty puddle of ickyness in the
wilderness.
God, of course, had
intended that instead of the people trusting what they found along the road,
instead they would trust him for
their provision, and I think that this is the crux of the issue with these
people, and perhaps in our day as well. They trusted their need – and their
interpretation of their need – more than they trusted God to take care of them.
I have known people
– God’s kids even – who do this very thing. They discover they have a need, a
lack, and they fix their attention on that lack, and now a disproportionate
portion of their lives is defined by their lack. It’s easy to interpret a great
many things by the vocabulary of that one perceived lack, and that perception
begins to define their relationship with the Almighty.
I have lived among
people who described their provision as “living by faith.” But some of them
lived a life that could better be described as “living by hints,” and by the
donations that came as a result of the hints. Others have lived by scrounging:
always on the lookout for money lying around, on the floor, in pockets, in
vending machines, in parking lots. (Since I’ve participated in these patterns,
I’m afraid I know whereof I speak; if others have not lived there, then I
suggest they give thanks, rather than pass judgment.)
Even affluent
people can fall into the problem of relating to the world through their lack,
whether in regards to money, or to the need for a husband (or a wife), or the
need for acceptance, or significance, any lack, really. Their interpretation of
the world – and ultimately of God – revolves around the need that they are
fixated on. This presents some problems.
·
Some of
us see every expense, every scrap of money coming or going as an expression of
God’s provision for our (very real) financial need. Often, these people find
themselves “living by faith,” and financially living on the edge, where
“enough” is a scarce commodity, or has fallen off the radar entirely.
·
Some of
us see every relationship in terms of our own needs, and their conversations often
center around their own healing, their own goals, rather than about the real
need for community. If every relationship is evaluated by “Do they help me feel
better?” then I’ve become just as guilty as these Israelites: I’ve stopped
looking to God for my provision. Instead, I’m looking to my own understanding,
though I may disguise the issue by using religious terms like “God wasn’t
leading me that way.” I may slap a
prayer onto the process to convince myself that I’m focusing on God, while I
focus on my own needs.
·
Some of
us see every sickness and injury as a ballot on whether God is still in the
healing business, or whether they’re good enough, devout enough, or holy enough
to be successful at healing the sick. If we were to look at the situation from
God’s perspective, we’d see it differently.
·
And we
tend to judge (yes, “judge”) God’s care for us, predominantly by that one
issue: has he met this need? At the
waters of Marah, the people judged Moses and the God whom he served as having
failed, because this puddle that they so desperately wanted to be God’s
provision for them was not actually God’s provision for them.
Note that these are
not illegitimate needs. We need
provision. We need real relationship, we need to walk in the power of the
Kingdom. And the Children of Israel in the desert really needed water! Those
are real needs.
The issue is not in
having a need, or even in acknowledging a need. My need is not a problem. It’s
only when I begin to make a solution for my need apart from my relationship
with God that I get into trouble.
This leads us, or
at least it leads my own thinking, to an uncomfortable place: much of this
could be resolved by simply trusting God – the God who promised to provide for
us – to actually provide for my needs. It’s a shame that this is something of a
radical proposition.
Trusting God really
shouldn’t have been a great stretch for these particular folks. Apart from the
testimony of their ancestors (Abraham, Isaac & Jacob, though their
reputation was not yet what it is now), these same people had just watched a
grand showdown between their God and the gods of the Egyptians. It wasn’t even
close, which, of course, was God’s plan: God was showing off his provision for
them, his advocacy of them. And in the actual departure, he made these former
slaves wealthy,
wealthy enough to construct a very impressive gold-laden
tabernacle a few months later.
Oh, and the parting
of the Red Sea (and the drowning in that sea
of one of the most powerful armies in the world at that time) was what? four
days behind them? They spent a day partying and singing about it! God had
demonstrated his supernatural provision this
week, another set of testimonies last month, and the testimony of their
ancestors. God had proven both his willingness and his ability to provide for
the people. But they hadn’t learned the lesson.
And then I’m
reminded of the many times that God has very effectively provided for me and my
household, and I’m reminded that every time he’s provided for me is another
testimony of his faithfulness, and another reminder that I need to focus on God
and his provision more than I focus on my own needs and wants. God – my
omnipotent and beneficent, heavenly Daddy – is my provider, not the mud puddles
along the road of my life.
We will prevent a
whole lot of serious problems if we leave the means of God’s answer in God’s
hands, rather than focus on the thing that we assume his answer must be.
