Thomas Merton has a wonderful scene in his spiritual autobiography, THE SEVEN STOREY MOUNTAIN. He stands there, in 20th century France in front of a 13th century monastery, wondering if those prayers of those monks who are now dead and gone; if those prayers are somehow now being answered by God in his life, in that day. That scene raises a question for us. Does God answer ancient prayers in a way that shapes our life today?
We speak and think in present
time. For us, long-range planning in terms of weeks, months, years. When we
pray we speak to our Father in heaven who dwells in eternity. Suddenly, words
and prayers endure. How long will God listen and answer your prayer? Just for
that moment, or just for that day? Is it possible that God will answer your
prayer today much later in your lifetime? Is it possible that God will answer today’s
prayer after you are dead and gone? Is it possible that God will answer your
prayer centuries from now, that their lives may be shaped by God’s answer to
your prayer?
If that is so, then it is
possible that our lives today may be shaped by ancient prayers.
In this morning’s OT text, we
have an ancient prayer, one that God uses to shape our lives today. It is hard
to hear the prayer, though, because of the grumblings. But, if you stop and
think of it, prayers are, basically, grumblings and grumblings are frequently
prayers but prayers made sideways. Here’s what I mean: Grumblings are filled with our hopes,
desires, dreams, anger, disappointment; they are spoken about God and against
God. But, where grumblings fail, what they are NOT, is that they are not spoken
to God. They are spoken to the world.
They are spoken to the world and anyone who will listen because,
apparently, God isn’t listening to our prayers so we lament to those around us.
Grumblings are grumbled to anyone who will listen. And they do listen! And
that’s the problem, then, because these grumblings, these prayers, have a tendency
to sound more beautiful, more worthy, than true prayer. Listen to this
grumbling in the text.
Israel is in the wilderness,
camped out there, post-Sinai. In the center of the camp is the tent of meeting,
surrounded by the priests and levites, and surrounding them is the people of
Israel. Way out on the edge, at the margin of the camp, is one tent where one
man sits and grumbles. Way over there, behind him, in the center of all things,
is the tent of meeting with its priests and levites who keep it all organized
and holy – but maybe that’s the problem, he thinks. They’re so busy they have
lost sight of the real world. Out here in the fringes, all that ritual and
stuff gets lost. Out here he has a good view of the world.
He used to love to see the wilderness.
Open the tent flap. He loved seeing manna as far as he could see. Manna, that
fine frosty stuff – “what is it?” – that covered the ground and came from God
Himself. The name itself recalled the mystery of God. The word itself, the
name, reminded them of where it came from. He remembers: “Where did it come
from?” And his answer: From heaven! And his son’s answer: “So, abba, we’re
eating the bread of angels!”
Who knew you could get sick and
tired of the bread of angels. Manna…Same thing, each day. Boiled, baked,
gathered and grasped, beaten and broken. The sight of it made them sick to
their stomach. It no longer had any beauty that he desired it. Who knew that
the bread of angels would become like so much bologna. Instead of “what is it”
spoken with wonder and amazement as its finely textured honey like taste filled
the hungry mouth, it was “what is it today,” with spite and frustration stuck
to the tongue like stale rice cakes. Manna – what is it, now. That morning,
instead of taking and eating, he spoke and let out a grumble. And it was
beautiful! He told his son about Egypt. He rewrote history as he spoke:
slavery? No…they weren’t days of slavery. They were days of desire. We had
everything we wanted. We had fish for free; cucumbers and melons and onions and
garlic and leaks. The grumble was beautiful and it had power – it shaped the
childs’ mind and world.
You know that power, don’t you?
You’re gathered around the coffee pot at work and talking about the longer
hours for less money and fewer benefits and someone recalls how, before the
merger, ten, fifteen years ago when pay was good and benefits were solid and
retirement looked like a real probability with some comfort; but now? Now, its
becoming more of a pipe dream. The grumble takes on life as heads nod and
others chime in and add their grumbles to the cacophony.
You’re at practice after school
and the coach or band director makes every one run because one kid – ONE KID -
screwed up. Everyone is being punished for one mistake. Someone in the middle
of the pack starts to grumble…last year, when someone screwed up we didn’t have
to do this. This is stupid, the coach is stupid, the director is stupid and the
grumbles grow, spreading outward to those jogging along like a spider web.
Suddenly the grumblers stop jogging and turn and face the coach, turn to face
the director, and with a mob mentality, challenge them with words and body
language that says “We’re not doing this…what are you gonna do about it?”
You’re at the community center.
Someone is bragging about their newest grandchild and showing off pictures.
Others pull out their wallets and cell phones and for several minutes, pictures
are being exchanged and stories told about what familes are doing. In a pause
in the conversation, one crusty old timer grumbles bitterly about not being
able to hold his wife’s hand when she passed because of Covid. Another woman grumbles
“agent orange,” and another “mesothelioma.”
These grumbles are powerful. They
make this manna and wilderness look like a god-forsaken mess. All of Israel
stand in their tent openings – they don’t go, they don’t gather - they begin to
grumble about the manna and the wilderness and the tents and the sand. The
wives hear it and nod. But its not just the adults – no! The children hear it
too and take it into themselves as part of the story of the people. But it
doesn’t stop there. The grumbles and murmurs make their way like waves all the
way to Moses at the tent of meeting and he overhears the cries of these people.
You know what Moses does? He
takes the grumbles and gives them to God. He makes them a prayer to God. But,
notice how what form the prayer takes on. It’s not a prayer for the people;
it’s not a prayer for mercy; not for deliverance. No, it’s a prayer for himself
– but not a prayer for strength to care for the people – no, a prayer that God
would come down and wipe out Moses and wipe him off the map. He’s sick of them.
Tired of their complaining. He longs to gather the people to his breast, like a
nursing child to his mother, but the people want nothing of it. Now, he takes
the people and the manna and the wilderness and his own emptiness and throws it
up to God.
And now God has a mess. He has a
leader who doesn’t want to lead. He has people who don’t want to follow.
What does God do? The people are
looking at the past in a way that takes away the gift of the present. Moses is
looking at the present in a way that takes away the gift of the future. God
looks to the future and answers that prayer.
See, deep in that tent of meeting
is the mercy of God. Hidden, yes. What is it, you say? Not a what….a who. How
he longed to pull back the curtain and let God’s people see salvation in his
flesh. How he longed to gather these children to his breast. And the day he did
– the day Christ became flesh – they would not. They nailed Him to the tree.
Who knew you could get so sick of the bread of angels? They gathered him and
grasped him and beat him and hung him up to die on a tree. He had no beauty
that we would desire him.
But this was the desire of God –
to offer his life, a God-forsaken mess, for you. On that day, God tore the
curtain of the tent of meeting and revealed his mercy in a god-forsaken mess on
a tree. Because of that mercy, God answers Moses’ prayer.
We like to say God always answers
prayer. But not always like you expect. That’s what it’s like here. God tells
Moses to gather the people, not manna, and he sends his spirit down on the
people. And that spirit is so full and so powerful that the people begin to prophesy
– even out at the margins of the camp. Someone rushes to Moses with the news
that Eldad and Medad are prophesying out there and what does Moses say? He says
“Would that all of the Lord’s people were prophets. Would that the Lord would
put his spirit on them all.”
That’s the ancient prayer that I
want you to hear today.
That’s the prayer that God
answers to give shape to give shape to our lives in this place. He answered
that prayer when he raised Jesus Christ form the dead and seated him in the heavens
as lord and ruler of all. This Lord Jesus Christ sends His holy Spirit into
this world to gather all people and he gathers you, here in this place, and he
raises servants among us. God says I have raised up…police officers and nurses
who show care for people when they are most broken; I have raised up teachers
who continue to help form and shape young minds to think for themselves and
about others; I have raised up a mother who spends hours in prayer for her sick
child and a father who stays up all night so his wife can sleep a few precious
hours; I have raised up an elderly woman who cannot leave her bed, but who
spends her waking hours in prayer for those who are not able to pray for
themselves; I have raised up account managers and engineers and technicians and
clerks and cashiers and drivers and plumbers and others who do their jobs for
the glory of God and the betterment of their company; I have raised up
grandparents to teach the faith to their grandchildren by living it out in
their lives.
God answers this ancient prayer
in ways that shape our lives here today.
I don’t know if you woke up or
drove to church with a grumble on your lips. But I do know one thing. Its easy
– its easy to grumble when you’re here. I do it all the time. Church attendance
is down; budget is tight; Sunday school is struggling; of the thirteen kids I
confirmed, I haven’t seen most since the day of their confirmation. I know I
shouldn’t grumble, but if you didn’t want me to grumble God, you shouldn’t have
given me so much to grumble about! Right?
It’s easy to grumble; easy to
hold on to the past in a way that takes away the gift of the present. Easy to look
at the present in a way that takes away the gift of the future. So the next
time you’re tempted to grumble, the next time before you say anything to anyone
else, give it to God. Give that grumble to God. Because God will hear. And He
will answer. No, he will not answer as we deserve – THANK GOD! He will not
answer as we, the grumbling saints deserve. But he will answer according to his
desire. Oh, how he desires to rend the heavens and come down and bring in a new
creation. But until that day, he promises that because of Christ he will
forgive. And he will answer this ancient prayer of Moses where you are immersed
in a community of the spirit where you are shaped for service in His Word and
in His Kingdom.
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