Third Sunday of Lent
Sermon Text: Exodus 17:1-7 Scripture Reading: Psalm 95 [Preface to the Sermon text]: In this passage in the book of Exodus, the Israelites find themselves in a very troubling situation. They have just started what will end up being a forty year journey in search of the Promised Land. So far, they have seen plagues befall Egypt, watched as Pharaoh turned them loose from their slavery, and they’ve also seen an entire sea split before them. They have seen bitter water made sweet and had bread given them when they were hungered. And now, in this passage, they find themselves once again in need.
What do you do when you find yourself stuck between a rock and a hard place? We usually take that expression to mean, "What do you do when faced with two equally difficult scenarios or choices?" In this text that we're looking at today, the people of Israel find themselves in a increasingly difficult situation. They have left their lives of slavery, they have crossed the Red Sea which was parted for them, they have begun their long journey through the desert to find their home, the land which will be given to them by God. And they are profoundly distrustful with this new situation they are in. They found themselves enslaved in Egypt for many, many years—generations, in fact—and they were hoping for some solution. Moses came from the wilds of the desert and he asked Pharaoh to let the people of Israel go free. At first, Pharaoh denied it and kept denying it until plague after plague fell upon his country and his family and cast the
Israelites out of Egypt and into the freedom of the desert. And they crossed the Red Sea and they found themselves with nothing other than what they brought. At first, they found bitter water but the Lord made it sweet for them. They then hungered for food and so God rained down Manna for them to eat. Enslaved? Free. Thirsty? Water provided. Hungry? Feed. And I think, like many times when we as people living thousands of years after the fact and having at least a general knowledge of how this whole thing turns out, we view individual stories like this which involve characters or entire groups showing moments of unfaithfulness and we think, "Oh, what silly people. Why don't they just trust Moses? He's proven himself before, they ought to have faith here." And it's the same with many stories found within this book. "Why, oh why, did King David so easily fall into sin. It would have been quite easy to avoid looking at the naked woman bathing on her roof." Or “Why did the people not see Jesus as who he really was?” Of course, looking back we can see that things would work eventually out in this situation for the Israelites, at least for a time and not without some rough patches getting there. We see that God carried them across the desert and he provided for them and they had no reason to panic. We can see that now. But that is, as I said, thousands of years after the fact. Imagine your whole life written down in text and imagine someone coming along long after you have died and reading about moments where you fell either into disbelief or you fell prey to temptation or you were simply scared about where you're next meal would come from. Of course they could say, “Well look at how scared she was” or “Look at how worried that silly man
could get.” But that isn’t how we feel in the moment, is it? When we’re in times of difficulty, in dark and desolate periods in our lives, we understand then how someone falls from feeling close to God. The people of Israel aren't going on and on about how they miss their captivity in Egypt because of the silk sheets or the better cable options or the more reliable cell service or the cheaper gas prices, they are complaining about having no food and no water: two remarkably vital things to not only crossing a desert but also for life. They want water. Isn’t that a legitimate concern? I know I would be asking, “Hey, what’s a fellow got to do to get a bit of water around here?” But the people did not simply ask for water. They asked if God was really present or not. This is the testing business that Moses is talking about here. They fell into a time of doubt, so much so that they started putting forward the idea: “Well if this God’s really in control, he’d get me some fresh water to drink I’d bet.” And while the need for water in a desert is completely real and very legitimate, the people began questioning if God really had their interests at heart. After all, he leads us out of captivity from the largest civilization at the time, he splits a sea so that we can walk calmly to the other side, he sends down food for us, but no water? Maybe he’s not the right one to follow. And again, we can see how, “Well of course they should have followed.” And of course, they should have. But I don’t know if I wouldn’t have resorted to such tactics to get water when my livestock, when my children were at risk of dying potentially. I can’t say for certain what I would do. But the people quarreled and they tested whether or not God was truly there for them.
Did God want them to behave in a more faithful matter? Of course. Did he want them to remain faithful in these hard times? Yes, of course he did. Would you or I behave any differently if we suddenly found ourselves in a foreign desert, no hope of returning to the places we have lived our entire lives in, and with all of that, no water for our livestock, our children, or ourselves? We can sit here and say, "Ah, well of course I would have trusted Moses. I would not have been so quick to complain." Hindsight is, as they say, 20/20. Now that we have, at least I hope, partly legitimized the Israelites' concerns, I'd like to take a look at just how this problem gets solved. The first thing Moses does is cry out to the Lord. He is met with these concerns, like a good leader he listens and reflects on what they have said, and then he goes to God in fear they are about to kill him. Moses from the very beginning sees these concerns as a quarrel with him and a means of testing God. And truthfully, it is. They have been given Manna in the previous chapter and they have had bitter water turned sweet for them in the chapter before that. And they have been saved from slavery before that. He sees the people as having been provided for but now they are at a place without water and they are fearful. I think we need to remember the fact that Moses is able to talk with God, to get a direct line of communication with the God that seems to be in control over this entire situation. If you recall, Moses first came into contact with God far before the Exodus, before the plagues, before Moses found himself back in Egypt not as a prince but as a shepherd. God called Moses to free his people, to rescue them from their bondage. God has been working in the life of Moses for years at this point. The Israelites, on the other
hand, they have lived for generations in enslavement, watched Pharaoh take their young boys and cast them into the river, and have been completely taken advantage of by their government that rules over them. And then they are finally set free. They receive a salvation. They are taken from slavery to wandering the desert, in search of a new home, a new land which to rule over. Moses is the one who leads them and, by extension, is the one who has taken the nation of Israel under his wing. He was charged, called to be their leader. This is why he fears his people. He recognizes that the blame falls upon him but he also sees that blame, by extension, falling upon the Lord. Moses wants the people to be faithful and he is afraid both for his life but also for their spiritual lives. He does not want to see his people fall into spiritual ruin so quickly after having been rescued from their persecution. And this is really what we see throughout the book of Exodus. Moses is continually trying to get the people to be faithful, to not fall into disbelief. And time and time and time again, they do fall. They worship other gods, they get lost from what God has told them to do, Moses himself resorts to anger many times while leader of this nation. But he is always concerned for his people. This is why Moses goes to God and asks for his help. And God tells him to go and take some of the Elders and strike a rock and there, water will flow from it. And this passage concludes with that going about exactly as God commanded and then Moses ends up calling the locations that the people are gathered Massah, meaning quarreling
and Meribah, meaning testing. It was where the people quarreled with Moses and where they tested God. But it was at the rock that God showed his willingness to provide for his people. He showed the manner by which he would provide. The people desired water, Moses asked for water on their behalf, and then water was given to them. I think this passage says a lot about the nature of God and how he does eventually provide for us in his time. Do we sometimes get angry, upset, fall away from his teaching and trust ourselves more than we do him? Of course we do. Everyone does. And while this is saying a lot about how we should be behaving in terms of difficult times and times where we find ourselves in need, I think this passage is also a good introduction to something we’ll talk a little bit more about tonight. Can you think for a moment and recall another time in the Bible when a large group of people were angry? And then after that, something or someone was broken or harmed? And then after that, the blood and the water from his body being poured out as a sacrifice for us? So I don't think it's too big of a stretch to see some parallels with Christ here. If we go forward from this passage in Exodus, to just before the years of Jesus’s death and resurrection, we see a people who were living in debt not to a Pharaoh but to a Law. A Law that came from God, and that Law actually being set up and given to this group here that was wandering in the desert, but that Law was ultimately really focused on certain rules to follow, sacrifices to make, and it was all being controlled by a select group of priests. Right before Jesus and for a long time before that, there really wasn't
such a thing as a relationship with God, not really to the extent we see it today. Humanity's relationship with God had become kind of stale, very fixed, very routine. And God had not sent a prophet for hundreds of years. He was no longer speaking to his people. And the Israelites found themselves, again, in a second-class citizen role. No longer ruling over a land of their own that they would eventually get to but instead under the rule of a new Pharaoh: Caesar who used the Roman Empire to control them even after Christ's arrival and resurrection. And they called out for a savior. One had been promised virtually all throughout the days of the Prophets who arose up in this nation's history. Israel went through many periods of persecution and enslavement, mostly because of an unwillingness to follow God’s plan for their lives. And each prophet that came seemed to give hints, tiny mentions here and there, some more than others, about some kind of salvation for the nation of Israel. And eventually a savior came, not as a warrior to sword fight Caesar into submission but as a carpenter who preached love, forgiveness, and faithfulness all while claiming that he was the Son of God, put here on earth to save and to bring living water if you recall the story about the woman at the well. And he was put to death for these claims, broken and crucified and hung on a cross for us. For the Israelites. For the men who put him there. For those that thirsted and hungered. For everyone who would accept him. And this is what the passage, I think,
communicates to us today: even in times of tremendous difficulty, Christ's sacrifice for us remains present for us to lean on, to accept, to take solace in. We may indeed be encamped in the enemy's territory, we may walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we may find ourselves hungering and thirsting, but we must remember the words of the Psalmist: "Oh come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord, our Maker! For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand." The sheep of his hand, the protected. This is how we must face inequities. Not with shrugged shoulders or disheartened words or bleak thoughts, not with confusion or loss or hopelessness, not with falling into fear, doubt, or—worst of all—prideful anger. We all know what it's like to lose heart, to feel a flame inside of us slowly wither down, to reach a point where all is lost. The Israelites felt this. There is no reason you leave slavery and look back to it with longing unless you fear for your life and you come to the conclusion that to stay means you will die, your livestock will die, and your families will die. This is the choice they faced. Head back to Egypt, go back to the safe slavery and risk whatever new persecutions the Pharaoh throws at you or stay. Stay with the Shepherd who was charged with leading his people to freedom. Stay with the cloud of dust and fire who sends down bread and provides water. Stay and one day know that your journey will come to its end and waiting for you will be the land that God has promised you.
And yes, we follow the Shepherd whose body was once broken for us and his life blood poured out so that our sin, our folly, would not keep us from the love of God. And yes, we stay with the God who has provided for us even when it seemed as though we might be cursed. And yes, we stay so that one day we might arrive in a land flowing with milk and honey, not so we may rule over it but that we might be with God. And with all of this mind, the nature of his forgiveness, the sending of his son, the complete love he has for us all, it was all done before we ever made a choice whether or not to follow or even to believe. While we were still wandering in our sin, Christ died for us then. Not for people who were perfect or who are perfect or people that once he comes into our lives will suddenly become perfect but broken people. People who fall. People who are in need of him and what he has to offer us. Like thirsty Israelites in the desert, we are in need of what he offers us. The living water of Christ. We can of course worry on our own, get upset and question those whom we think are responsible for our hardships; we can fall so far into despair and fear that we turn from what God is guiding us toward. So it is imperative–absolutely vital–that we do not lose heart. We are to be built up on God’s teaching, to lean on the understanding of God’s ways and ultimately his love for us. And we are to stand on the strong foundation of the rock of Christ. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Sermon Text: Romans 5:1-11 [Preface]: Continuing on from the passage we were looking at this morning in the book of Exodus, this passage in the book of Romans written by Saint Paul the Apostle to—yes you guessed it—the Romans, is one of the more important works in post-Gospel writing especially when looking at the life of Paul. Romans provides us with the fullest view of Paul’s own theology.
Just give it to me straight. How many times have we heard someone say, “Look, skip all the unnecessary stuff and just give me the facts?” With all of this stuff with the coronavirus going around, there’s so much information and unfortunately some misinformation and we have to decide for ourselves what is true and what is not. And that’s kind of the world that we live in nowadays. We’re given viewpoints and different opinions from different people and cable news and the internet and there are hundreds of sources now; sometimes we just want one person to tell us everything we need to know. And in his letter to the Romans here, Paul is sort of acting in that same position. Many of these early churches that were started around the Mediterranean Sea in the first century were having quite a few problems; and they ranged from simple things like not knowing how to do certain things with worship to being in a community filled with misinformation. The church in Corinth that Paul wrote his letter to was dealing with division in the church; in Galatia the church had been infiltrated with false teachers, spreading false
gospels; in Thessalonica, the church was dealing with the death of some members and they did not know what would happen to them after death. So we see Paul all throughout his life becoming this facilitator of knowledge, writing and teaching new Christians and making sure these churches would continue what they had started. And the church in Rome was no different. Lots of theological issues were apparently brewing there. We can assume that a large part of that was that you had both Jewish and Gentile Christians worshipping together so questions arose as far, “How much of the Old Testament Law do we have to follow?” and “Is Abraham the father of both Gentiles and Jews?” and “What role does the Law play in reference to sin?” All these questions, Paul answers within Romans. So with all of this in mind, I’d like to take a look at just what Paul is attempting to answer here in this passage. Just from a first pass, we can see a whole lot in this passage being discussed as far as faith, Christ’s death on the cross, God’s love, and justification. Now, this is also a very quotable passage: you’ve probably at least heard verse 8, “but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” But let’s try our best to understand the passage as a whole. And this passage does sort of present like some legal document almost. Paul is, as we read it, is kind of building up this argument, saying “Okay, well if this is true, if this one fact that everybody agrees on is true, then this must also be true,” and he keeps going with that logic.
So to trace the full line of reasoning here, we actually have to start back in chapter 4 of this book where Paul is discussing Abraham. Specifically, Paul is discussing the story in the Old Testament where Abraham shows his faithfulness to God and then is blessed with his first child. Starting in verse 20, we find Paul saying: “No unbelief made him waver concerning the promise of God, but he grew strong in his faith as he gave glory to God, fully convinced God was able to do what he had promised. That is why his faith was counted to him as righteousness. But the words ‘it was counted to him’ were not written for his sake alone, but for ours also. It will be counted to us who believes in him who raised from the dead Jesus our Lord, who was delivered up for our trespasses and raised for our justification.” And that is what the “therefore” is there for. Because of all of that, because we have been justified through our faith, because we have believed and trusted in God to rule over our lives, we have peace with God. And this is really why tonight’s text fits so well this morning’s sermon because, if you’ll recall, the Israelites found themselves in a very bleak situation: out in the desert, no water. And it’s reasonable to be afraid, to reconsider and think, “Maybe we ought to go back.” But the same faith that Abraham showed when he was a hundred year old man with no offspring who was then told, “You will be the father of many nations.” It would have been easy for him to say, “Yeah, sure whatever, maybe but I’m not going to hold my breath.” But he responded with faithfulness which, as Paul points out, was counted to him to as righteousness.
Paul, in verse 2, points out: “Through him we have also obtained access by faith into his grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” So this state of faith we find ourselves in, it brings out grace. So Paul is saying that if we remain faithful, not only is that counted toward us as righteousness, as us living in the correct way, but also it is used as a means of obtaining Grace. To be faithful is be believe, to believe is to be saved. Notice that sort of legal style of logic that Paul is placing on theology. It’s not enough to just say, “Well, maybe if you live rightly then maybe God will let you enter Heaven” or “maybe if you do enough good things, then you’ll get your ticket.” Paul is trying to build up the steps in a logical way. If we have faith, we have peace with God and that gives access to his grace so that we might be saved on the day of judgement. Which, Paul tells us at the tail end there of verse 2, causes us to “rejoice in hope of the glory of God.” We rejoice in that knowledge that one day we will be gathered up in God’s glory, we rejoice that one day our trials here on earth will be over, we rejoice knowing that God will prevail against the darkness and sin and death of this world; because it means that we will join with him on that day. And that is a joyous occurrence. Everyone starts looking toward the book of Revelation and they see all this doom, gloom, and destruction; people always want to talk about the end times, the end of days: those will be days of worship when God’s children are joined together with their creator. For those who have believed, for those who have had faith, it will be a cause for joyous celebration.
And then, in verse 3, Paul begins another sort of trail of logic here. He says that not only do we rejoice in the promise of salvation, we also rejoice in our sufferings. And why is that? Because we know bad things will happen to us even with faith. Nowhere in this book will you find the promise that belief equals good and easy times. Quite the opposite, in fact. Christianity is a religion built upon persecution. It began when Christ was persecuted and hung on a cross. Early followers were killed for their belief. Only one of the 12 Apostles didn’t die a martyr. Entering into a relationship with God does not remove you from heartache, pain, disasters, loss, or any of the other terrible things we as humans must face while here on earth. What is does do, however, is produce endurance which produces character which produces hope. We are built stronger through our trials, made even more clear of our need for God and his deliverance. It is only in the valleys of life that we can look up to the peaks with hope, with determination, with steadfast faithfulness that God will deliver us to better times, times of blessing where we can better see his workings. And that does give us hope. Which is not, as I’m sure you’ve heard before, this notion of wishful thinking or a “perhaps.” Christian hope is a measure of certainty in the ways of God, knowing that he has delivered us out of hardship before and having the faith that he will do it again. Because of his love for us. And this love has been given to us through God’s spirit that is within us. Love in our hearts even in times of difficulty. And it is difficult to be mindful of this. To put this into practice.
On bad days, it is easy to be quick to anger, to lose faith in God’s ability to work within your life, to give yourself over to quick and easy pleasures as opposed to the long term fulfillment that God offers. It is hard to live rightly in those times, to have love in our hearts for those we might not care to love most of the time, to treat others as we’d like to be treated, to be like a city on a hill or lights in a dark room. It’s difficult to do. And it is a daily battle that we must fight. That’s why over in the book of Luke, Luke writes that we must “carry our cross daily.” We must put to death every single day the things which draw us farther from God. But if we keep faith in what God has done, believe that he is working through his spirit now, and also have hope that he will continue to work in the future, then it will become much easier to live through difficult and disastrous times. And moving on into verse 6, Paul points out that even while we were still weak, still firmly in the enemy’s grasp, still living in the dominion of sin, Christ died for all of us. He died for the ungodly. He did not come to this world to be given as a sacrifice for those who were perfect or those who never fell into sin or those who never struggled with anything in their lives. And do you know why? Because no such people exist. Christ died for the sinful, the ungodly. He died for us. All of us were sinners, all of us continue to be sinners, and all of us will sin in the future. It does not mean we’re not true believers or that we must keep getting baptized each year or that we’re wasting God’s grace; it means that we are imperfect, that God is working on us, and that Christ had every reason to come and to die for us.
If only one person in the whole two thousand years since then, if only one person gains access to Heaven, it will have been worth it. “For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Maybe on rare occasions, people will die for very morally upright people or people who have done an awful lot of good but who dies for the unrighteous? Who dies for the people living in rebellion from God? Only Christ. Only someone who had the fullness of God’s love within him would ever, could ever do such a thing. He died before we ever even made a choice about whether to follow or not, before we were even born, but he did it. He died for us. Not just so we can come to church on Sunday mornings or just so we can get a little badge next to our name somewhere—Christ died to save us. Through his blood we are justified, we can stand before God with the knowledge that we are no longer enemies but his children, welcomed into the fold with the open arms of our Father in heaven. This is the promise, the promised salvation of God through the death of his son. No longer must we live in fear that maybe we can do well enough to achieve Heaven or as long as we don’t do these things then we’re okay. The path to Heaven is not lined with lists of do’s and don’t’s. Following a list will not save you. Following Christ is the only thing that we can do. Follow Christ, in good times and in bad. Follow Christ, when the days are long and difficult and it seems as though the world is falling down
around you. Follow Christ, even when you find yourself lost, scared, hungry for food or thirsty for water; God promises his provision for us. He sent his son into a world of sin because his love was great. He provides for now because his love is so much bigger and greater than the trials and misfortunes of our lives. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.