Grumbling and grace in the wilderness

In my sermon March 1 on Numbers 11, we saw a people redeemed from 400 years of bondage and suffering now only 3 days on the march into wilderness, en route to the promised land, already (!) complaining about...guess what? The menu. "Day after day, all we have to eat is this manna!" How ironic. Day after day, God was miraculously providing manna, the bread from heaven, food of angels, in abundance, but the people were so short-sighted and ungrateful, that they actually wanted to go back to Egypt "where the food was free" they said. 400 years of slave labor is equivalent to a free meal? I would imagine that Pharaoh's pantry was better stocked than the Israelites' stomachs on any given day.

And how does God describe their grumbling? "They have rejected me," said Yahweh. How do we hear that? A little grumble and now God is accusing us of losing our religion? Well, how else should we describe a relationship in which one all-powerful King full of grace and compassion, mightily and decisively delivers a totally helpless and enslaved people, provides for all their needs and then some, and does it with special effects (water to blood, parting seas, thunder, lightning, levitating pillar of cloud and fire, water from desert rock). And after all that He's done, and while He's still doing it, all they can say is, "It was better in slavery when we had onion rings and watermelon!" ? You don't have to call it rejection (though since God calls it that, it might be wise to not deny that label for their libel), but what shall we say? At least this is temporary insanity. At minimum, a yawn of indifference in the face of sheer gracious provision, unmatched and unbound power, and the very and personal presence of the Most High and Holy One.

We saw from the text just what grumbling is, why it's so unreasonable, and that we probably shouldn't ever ask God to give us just whatever we want. Because they asked for meat, and when their quail came home to roost, they ended up getting just what they wanted: their own way, without God getting in the way. They craved all the way to the grave. God gave them over (have it your way!) to their sinful desires, as Romans 1 and Ephesians 4 describe of so many of us before we receive new hearts and a new start by God's Son and Spirit.

But by the pardoning power of the Redeemer from our slavery to sin who is called the manna from heaven, the Bread of Life, Jesus Christ, and by His Spirit filling us in a more permanent and precious way than Moses and his seventy elders in the desert, we are able to turn away from grumbling and lift up our lives in thanksgiving to the Lord.

Philippians 2:12-16 is Paul's instruction "to work out your own salvation [i.e., live out our liberation; be what we are, unshackled and unashamed children of God; sober servants of the King] with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. Do all things without grumbling or questioning [all things? Yes, that's what it says in the Greek, but stop questioning], that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine like stars in the world, holding fast to the word of life..."

A life of humility (like Christ himself in Philippians 2:1-11) and integrity, a life that holds on for dear life to the word of life. That life will shine brightly like a supernova in a universe of black holes that suck God's resources and demand more, it will shine like a spot light in a world of dark alleys where thieves and thugs ruthlessly take what was never rightfully theirs in the first place (God's undeserved blessings) and then complain that it's not enough. A life that shines that bright and that complains that little is only possible if God is working in us to work and even to will, to act and even think, thankful and fruitful lives.

While I was in seminary, I worked at an Italian restaurant with a few ballerinas from a Christian dance company, Ballet Magnificat. As Christians, we were in the minority. In the restaurant business, like most other places, complaining is cool, status quo, and contagious. The back of the house (in the kitchen and in the server station) reeked of grumbling about measely tips, sleezey etiquette, and (yes,) grumbling patrons. We conjectured one night that if as Christians, we stopped complaining, we would stand out in an unmistakable way. Not in self-righteousness or superficial piety, but in genuine self-restraint and deep compassion for the frustration of others. We agreed to not complain, with God's help and the comraderie of each other, and I believe that we fulfilled our calling--to shine like stars in a dark world.

We complain about having too little, and we aren't happy when we have too much.
Anne Lamott writes in her memoir "Traveling Mercies" about her life in addiction:
"I was either always hungry, or always stuffed, but never full."

Will we take St. Paul's advice in 1 Corinthians 10, take the warning of the Israelites who went to their graves grumbling, and instead, learn to be content in whatever the circumstance, whether well-fed or hungry, naked or clothed? For we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us (Philippians 4). His Word is Spirit and life (John 6).