Proper 21
Preaching
Preaching and Reading the Old Testament Lessons
With an Eye to the New
Object:
The traditions that we find in the Old Testament concerning Israel's wandering in the wilderness after her exodus from Egypt have a recurring pattern that probably dates back to the time when they were told orally (cf. Exodus 15:22-25; Numbers 11:1-3; 20:1-13). It is much easier to remember something if it follows a particular pattern, and the oral pattern of these particular texts shows that they are very old.
In the pattern, Israel confronts a desperate need in the desert -- in our text, the need for water. The people murmur against Moses, and he cries out to God. "What shall I do with this people? They are ready to stone me!" (v. 4). In reply, God supplies the need, giving them, in this story, the water that they require. The story is loosely paralleled in Numbers 20:1-13.
But this is a very human bunch that Moses is leading through the wilderness, isn't it? When they get into difficulty, they blame their leaders. And most of the time they forget all about the fact that God has delivered them and is going before them every step of the way, planning their itinerary, even showing them where to make camp (cf. Numbers 10:33-34), feeding them with manna, preventing their clothes and sandals from wearing out (Deuteronomy 29:5), and defending them from their enemies (Exodus 17:8-13). How blind they -- and we -- often are to the leading and gifts of God! Had the Israelites trusted the Lord and been aware of his constant presence, they themselves could have prayed for water. But no. They have to blame someone else, and poor Moses is in danger of being stoned. It is no wonder that Moses often wishes that God had never saddled him with the leadership of such a people.
God, however, shows his almost inexhaustible patience in these wilderness stories. Constantly he puts up with the people's lack of trust, with their complaints, and with their blindness to his grace. The people constantly put the Lord to the test, and the Lord never fails them, despite their mistrust.
So the Israelites and their cattle are given water to drink from a rock. The fact that the rock is said to be at Horeb, another name for Mount Sinai, is strange in the story, because Israel does not arrive at Sinai until chapter 19. The other traditions mentioning this story locate it at Meribah alone (Numbers 20:13; Psalm 81:7; 106:32). But however that may be, God gives water out of a spring from a rock to a thirsty people, thus preserving them alive in their time of crisis.
That water, like the supernatural food of the manna, was a "supernatural drink," wrote Paul to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 10:4) -- not a natural spring, but a gift of God's mercy. And that rock, continues Paul, was Christ.
In our deepest need, when we thirst -- for something -- or when we are confronted by the valley of death; when we have no one else to blame and no human helper; when our lack of trust and faithfulness has brought us to the edge of an abyss, and there is no exit and no hope and no future, who is it that can furnish us with the water of life, and with a new beginning? Christ. Christ our Rock. Christ who brings forth the water of eternal life, welling up and overflowing. And by his mercy, our thirst is quenched, good Christians, our valley of death is turned into a place of life, and we are given a new vitality, a new beginning and a new future. Out there ahead of us, as we wander through our wildernesses, there is a place of rest and promise called the Kingdom of God. So, refreshed and renewed by the flowing Spirit of Christ our Rock, let us journey in gladness toward it.
Lutheran Option: Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32
Karl Menninger of the famous Menninger Clinic wrote a book way back in 1973 titled Whatever Became of Sin? It was one of the most perceptive volumes ever written and went through multiple printings. In that book, Menninger maintained that the principal characteristic of our society is the loss of a sense of responsibility. And that is true, isn't it? For it seems as if very few people any more will take responsibility for what they do.
If someone commits a crime, we don't label them a sinner; we say they must be mentally ill, or under the influence of drugs or alcohol, and so they're not responsible. If we ourselves commit some wrong, we blame it on someone else. "My parents didn't raise me right." Or "I grew up in an evil environment." Or "I've got this psychological hang-up." Or "I goofed. Sorry about that." We don't want to take responsibility for our actions, and especially we do not want to take responsibility to God. "Sin" is an outdated concept, many think, and God does not hold anyone responsible.
Our text for the morning gives the lie to such views, for it tells us plainly that the Lord holds us accountable for all of our deeds. And God does not countenance evil. "The soul that sins shall die" (v. 4). "The wages of sin is death" (Roman 6:23). "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he (or she) has done in the body" (2 Corinthians 5:10).
If we do evil and repent of our sin and turn away to a new way of acting, however, our text says that God will forgive us and we will not die. Conversely, if we have been doing good, but then turn to evil ways and do not repent, we shall be judged and die for our evil.
Our text and, indeed, the scriptures as a whole also know the seat of our evil. It is in our hearts. As Jesus taught, "From within, out of the heart of a man (or woman) come evil thoughts ... and they defile" us (Mark 7:20, 23). There is the location of our sin -- in our hearts -- where we store up selfishness and hatreds, grudges and anxieties, fears and greeds. And those come forth from our hearts and corrupt our actions.
Therefore, says our text from Ezekiel, "Get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit. Why will you die, O house of Israel?" We need to be made clean and new in our inner selves, that our outer actions may be good and not bad. We need to be changed from the inside out.
But how can that happen, good Christians? How can all of the selfishness and pride and wickedness that we so often harbor in our hearts be done away and we be made new and good? It's a cinch that we can't cleanse our hearts on our own, can we? We will what is right, but we cannot do it. We do not the good that we want, but instead we do what is wrong (Romans 7:18-19).
But the Lord God sees our plight and our inability to make ourselves new. And so what does he do? He forgives us by the cross and resurrection of his Son, and then he baptizes us into that Son, and raises us to newness of life, and pours into our hearts the Spirit of Christ, giving us the ability to be good and to do what is right. And he says to us, "Come unto me," and all we have to do is to accept that by faith and to let Christ thus rule in our hearts.
Well, the invitation is there, friends. Trust Christ to make you a new person. Come unto him. And God wants so much for us to accept that. For as our text in Ezekiel says, the Lord has no pleasure in the death of anyone. He wants us to live. He wants us to live abundantly and eternally. And if we will -- if we will -- we can have that abundant and eternal life.
In the pattern, Israel confronts a desperate need in the desert -- in our text, the need for water. The people murmur against Moses, and he cries out to God. "What shall I do with this people? They are ready to stone me!" (v. 4). In reply, God supplies the need, giving them, in this story, the water that they require. The story is loosely paralleled in Numbers 20:1-13.
But this is a very human bunch that Moses is leading through the wilderness, isn't it? When they get into difficulty, they blame their leaders. And most of the time they forget all about the fact that God has delivered them and is going before them every step of the way, planning their itinerary, even showing them where to make camp (cf. Numbers 10:33-34), feeding them with manna, preventing their clothes and sandals from wearing out (Deuteronomy 29:5), and defending them from their enemies (Exodus 17:8-13). How blind they -- and we -- often are to the leading and gifts of God! Had the Israelites trusted the Lord and been aware of his constant presence, they themselves could have prayed for water. But no. They have to blame someone else, and poor Moses is in danger of being stoned. It is no wonder that Moses often wishes that God had never saddled him with the leadership of such a people.
God, however, shows his almost inexhaustible patience in these wilderness stories. Constantly he puts up with the people's lack of trust, with their complaints, and with their blindness to his grace. The people constantly put the Lord to the test, and the Lord never fails them, despite their mistrust.
So the Israelites and their cattle are given water to drink from a rock. The fact that the rock is said to be at Horeb, another name for Mount Sinai, is strange in the story, because Israel does not arrive at Sinai until chapter 19. The other traditions mentioning this story locate it at Meribah alone (Numbers 20:13; Psalm 81:7; 106:32). But however that may be, God gives water out of a spring from a rock to a thirsty people, thus preserving them alive in their time of crisis.
That water, like the supernatural food of the manna, was a "supernatural drink," wrote Paul to the Corinthians (1 Corinthians 10:4) -- not a natural spring, but a gift of God's mercy. And that rock, continues Paul, was Christ.
In our deepest need, when we thirst -- for something -- or when we are confronted by the valley of death; when we have no one else to blame and no human helper; when our lack of trust and faithfulness has brought us to the edge of an abyss, and there is no exit and no hope and no future, who is it that can furnish us with the water of life, and with a new beginning? Christ. Christ our Rock. Christ who brings forth the water of eternal life, welling up and overflowing. And by his mercy, our thirst is quenched, good Christians, our valley of death is turned into a place of life, and we are given a new vitality, a new beginning and a new future. Out there ahead of us, as we wander through our wildernesses, there is a place of rest and promise called the Kingdom of God. So, refreshed and renewed by the flowing Spirit of Christ our Rock, let us journey in gladness toward it.
Lutheran Option: Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32
Karl Menninger of the famous Menninger Clinic wrote a book way back in 1973 titled Whatever Became of Sin? It was one of the most perceptive volumes ever written and went through multiple printings. In that book, Menninger maintained that the principal characteristic of our society is the loss of a sense of responsibility. And that is true, isn't it? For it seems as if very few people any more will take responsibility for what they do.
If someone commits a crime, we don't label them a sinner; we say they must be mentally ill, or under the influence of drugs or alcohol, and so they're not responsible. If we ourselves commit some wrong, we blame it on someone else. "My parents didn't raise me right." Or "I grew up in an evil environment." Or "I've got this psychological hang-up." Or "I goofed. Sorry about that." We don't want to take responsibility for our actions, and especially we do not want to take responsibility to God. "Sin" is an outdated concept, many think, and God does not hold anyone responsible.
Our text for the morning gives the lie to such views, for it tells us plainly that the Lord holds us accountable for all of our deeds. And God does not countenance evil. "The soul that sins shall die" (v. 4). "The wages of sin is death" (Roman 6:23). "We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive good or evil, according to what he (or she) has done in the body" (2 Corinthians 5:10).
If we do evil and repent of our sin and turn away to a new way of acting, however, our text says that God will forgive us and we will not die. Conversely, if we have been doing good, but then turn to evil ways and do not repent, we shall be judged and die for our evil.
Our text and, indeed, the scriptures as a whole also know the seat of our evil. It is in our hearts. As Jesus taught, "From within, out of the heart of a man (or woman) come evil thoughts ... and they defile" us (Mark 7:20, 23). There is the location of our sin -- in our hearts -- where we store up selfishness and hatreds, grudges and anxieties, fears and greeds. And those come forth from our hearts and corrupt our actions.
Therefore, says our text from Ezekiel, "Get yourselves a new heart and a new spirit. Why will you die, O house of Israel?" We need to be made clean and new in our inner selves, that our outer actions may be good and not bad. We need to be changed from the inside out.
But how can that happen, good Christians? How can all of the selfishness and pride and wickedness that we so often harbor in our hearts be done away and we be made new and good? It's a cinch that we can't cleanse our hearts on our own, can we? We will what is right, but we cannot do it. We do not the good that we want, but instead we do what is wrong (Romans 7:18-19).
But the Lord God sees our plight and our inability to make ourselves new. And so what does he do? He forgives us by the cross and resurrection of his Son, and then he baptizes us into that Son, and raises us to newness of life, and pours into our hearts the Spirit of Christ, giving us the ability to be good and to do what is right. And he says to us, "Come unto me," and all we have to do is to accept that by faith and to let Christ thus rule in our hearts.
Well, the invitation is there, friends. Trust Christ to make you a new person. Come unto him. And God wants so much for us to accept that. For as our text in Ezekiel says, the Lord has no pleasure in the death of anyone. He wants us to live. He wants us to live abundantly and eternally. And if we will -- if we will -- we can have that abundant and eternal life.
