RVCC Pastor's Sermon

Sermon - September 21, 2008

“Transition and Transformation”

By Rev. Nancy Foran
Exodus 16:2-15

Let’s begin in story where we left off last week. Do you remember? The Israelites had successfully escaped from their Egyptian slavery – with a little bit of help from their leader, Moses, and that pillar of cloud that protected them as Pharaoh’s chariots drew closer in pursuit.

Remember how they reached the Red Sea and how, terrified, they clung to its banks even as the water receded and etched a dry pathway to the other side. Remember how the real miracle was that they trusted God enough to take that first halting step forward and, lo and behold, the ragtag band of men, women, and children all got to the other side before the roiling, boiling waves of water crashed down and around the Egyptian warriors, miring them, their horses, and their chariots in the mud, all of it ending in the whimper and then the absolute silence of a watery grave.

The Israelites were safe. Can you believe it? This straggling group of illiterate peasants had outwitted the entire Egyptian house of royalty – with a little bit of help from their leader, Moses, and what was behind that pillar of cloud, of course.

And now? What a cause for celebration, for dancing new dances and singing new songs of freedom and liberation. With no thought for tomorrow, with only the image of their victory playing in their minds and hearts, what a party they had that night! Such joy!

And then, at it always does, the sun rose again. And tomorrow came. And like every party before and since, this one too came to an end. It was the morning after, and as it always does, a tougher reality set in.

As Janet Cawley wrote, “on the lea-side of that celebration scene lay the wilderness of Sinai. A big letdown loomed in the form of very unfriendly and hostile terrain. With little water, there was no vegetation to harvest. Life felt very precarious indeed.” No food, no water. What had they done?

“Whose idea was this, anyway? At least in Egypt our slavery didn't involve starving to death. We had meat in our pots and bread. But here, in this God-forsaken terrain, we have sand and stone and a great hole in our stomachs…Moses and Aaron, you are at the head of this parade and you're to blame for our predicament. What are you doing to get us out of this mess? We want a stable supply of food. We don't want to fret about whether we'll have enough to eat tomorrow!” (Cawley) We are hungry, and we will not take this anymore! Whine, whine, whine!

And so it was Moses who had the lonely burden of approaching God on his own. “God, here's the situation,” he might have said: ‘This whining is getting on my nerves, and you need to know that if the grumbling gets out of hand, we're going to have a melt-down in this motley crew you set free from Pharaoh's clutches. I need some tools to work with, God.”

Good thing for Moses and the little band of former slaves that God is more patient than they were. Good thing that God can transform gloom and doom into joy and hope.

“Moses, tell the people the menu is,” Yahweh/God might have answered: Drum roll please. Manna in the morning. Quail in the evening. That will be Israel's food for the journey. (adapted from Cawley)

And so Moses did – though the Israelites were not overjoyed with God’s selection. “What is this stuff?” they asked when they saw the white goo sticking to the rocks that first morning. “You know, the fish, cucumbers, melons, onions, and garlic we had in Egypt sound pretty good right now – a lot better than this glop.” Good thing they did not know that manna would be their diet for the next 40 years – fillet of manna, manna burgers, lightly sautéed manna, manna-cotti, ba-manna splits for dessert.

What was going on here? Why were the Israelites so dissatisfied and behaving in such a distrustful, such a narrow-minded and selfish way? Why were they not even the least bit thankful for their freedom? Surely we would have been – right??

Certainly one reason for their behavior is simply that the Hebrew people were going through a major and significant transition. Lori Sawden reminds us that “The Israelites….are moving from the relative security of life in Egypt to the awesome uncertainty of life in the Promised Land.” They were experiencing that in between time of endings and beginnings – that middle time between the old way of life and a new way of living. It is a nothing time, a nothing place – a desert time, a wilderness time - barren, empty, devoid of life as they knew it.

Surely we have all felt that way at one time or another. You lose your job. Your marriage ends. You find yourself as an empty nester. A part of your life is over and done with – whether you like it or not - and the next chapter has not really begun yet.

And so you wake up one morning and discover yourself in the wilderness – not so sure of your direction, dreaming of the old times, the way things used to be. And you can not stop those awful words from spewing forth. “But we have always done it this way.” I always left for work on the stroke of 7. I always heard his gentle snore at night. I always watched her soccer games. And there you are, just like the Israelites, resisting the change with every bone in your body.

How many church members does it take to change a light bulb? Change? What do you mean, change? My grandmother gave that light bulb to the church 50 years ago!

But, you know, I do not think that it is the change itself that we are resistant to. After all, the Israelites wanted to be free. They really did not want to return to building pyramids all day under the hot Egyptian sun. Rather, I think it is the transition time, the in between time, the time when we wonder just how it will all work out, that too often does us in.

American Futurist, Marilyn Ferguson, says, “It’s not so much that we’re afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it’s that place in between that we fear…It’s like being between trapezes. It’s Linus when his blanket is in the dryer. There’s nothing to hold on to.”

There is a school of thought that recognizes three phases in an experience of change. The first is an ending. For the Israelites, it was crossing the Red Sea to freedom. This ending stage is followed by a time of transition, often characterized by confusion, resistance, and a lot of grumbling. For the Israelites, it was navigating the Sinai Desert, their own piece of wilderness, for 40 some odd years, complaining every step of the way. But out of this “in between” time comes a new beginning, a bright new beginning. But it is more than just a new beginning. It is a transformation, and we are never quite the same again. And in the long run, that is good. For the Israelites, it was the Promised Land.

You and I have been together now for exactly three years and one week. And we have seen our share of endings, transition times, and transformation. We have let go of old ways of doing things and have taken on new challenges. We have sent out our first Mission Team to do hands on work in Appalachia in the name of all of us here. We have let the choir rehearse in relative quiet by all of us pitching in to host the Fellowship Café each week. We have set in motion a new way of doing Sunday School. We have begun to step out into the community more with our Halloween pumpkin display, our summer outdoor move night, and our hope to host a Monday meal now and then.

It has not always been easy though. After all, we have also had to say goodbye to people who have chosen to worship elsewhere or who have decided to shift their priorities away from worshipping with us on Sunday morning. We have watched – sometimes disapprovingly – as things have shifted from the “way they have always been” to embrace new rituals and traditions.

The journey Moses and the Hebrew people set out on through the wilderness took 40 years, not because they were lost, but because the generation that had known Egypt had to die off before the Israelites could enter the Promised Land. (Thank goodness) none of our transitions have required literal deaths, but they have meant the “death” of outlooks, attitudes, values, and ways of thinking that functioned in the past. (Cawley)

What I really like about being your pastor is that you are often willing to question the “usual” and will risk experimenting with something different. You are not so set in your ways – as many small congregations tend to be. And this will be a most important gift to have as, for example, we continue the conversation we began at our all-church fall meeting last week about just how we will confront the outrageous cost of heating oil this winter.

Our ability to embrace change and trust in transformation will enable us to become ever more vibrant as the Body of Christ here in Raymond too. I believe that capacity is the key and also the challenge that God in Christ sets forth for us.

So far we have not been too much like the grumbling Israelites. Maybe that is because we have sifted through this story to find its underlying truth – and that is that we do not experience deep and lasting changes alone.

Just as God provided the manna and quails to assuage the Israelite’s hunger, so God will provide us with the tools we need as we wander through the wilderness of transition – be it personal or church-related. It may be courage. It may be personal strength. It may be just knowing that God’s presence abides – not matter what.

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed
that during the low periods of my life,
when I was suffering from
anguish, sorrow or defeat,
I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,
“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you,
you would walk with me always.
But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life
there have only been one set of footprints in the sand.
Why, when I needed you most, you have not been there for me?”

The Lord replied,
“The times when you have seen only one set of footprints in the sand,
is when I carried you.”

(Mary Stevenson)

Out of endings come the blessings of beginnings – and that is exciting. At the end of the wilderness is the Promised Land – and that is assuring and comforting. And through it all God provides – maybe not manna and quail but surely whatever we need to get us from the endings through the uncertain time of transition to the newness of transformation because, with God, all things can and will be made new – and that is a fact.

Sermon - September 21, 2008

“Transition and Transformation”

By Rev. Nancy Foran Exodus 16:2-15

By Rev. Nancy Foran
Exodus 16:2-15