Wilderness Wanderings

"Then the LORD came down in the cloud and stood there with [Moses] and proclaimed his name, the LORD. And he passed in front of Moses, proclaiming, 'The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.' Moses bowed to the ground at once and worshiped." (Exodus 34:5-8)

Sad to say, but summertime is drawing near its end already. Is summer in some ways like a wilderness? Not for the most part, but in a few respects it is, and not just because of the heat! We also tend to scatter, slow down and change our rhythms and habits over the summer. We withdraw from some of grind that marks the cooler months of the year. And so, in this late-August moment as the seasons come near to changing, it's good to think of some wilderness questions for our faith. It was in the wilderness where the Lord revealed Himself most fully to Israel and first proclaimed His name to them. This is where the people of God really got to know their God: being stuck in the wilderness with nothing but themselves and God for forty long years.

Now there were a few things God equipped His people with in these early chapters of their desert pilgrimage for that journey of getting to know and trust Him. He gave them the means to survive through provision (manna and water from the rock) and security (the defeat of the Amalekites through faith in God). Then God gave the law (ethical shape of life), the tabernacle (liturgical shape of life), and invited them into rhythms of meaningful work and Sabbath rest (creational shape of life).

Lastly, as the covenant is restored following the golden calf incident, God also affirms the gift of His presence with His people—the most necessary ingredient of all for their life and living. And as the book of Exodus closes, that presence is embodied in the cloud that fills the tabernacle with the glory of the Lord. God, their God, was indeed with them. Anytime of the day or night they could steal a glance toward the tabernacle and be assured: God was still home—right there in the middle of the camp, tenting it with His people out in the wilderness.

For forty years they walked this journey of wilderness pilgrimage, learning by those long years of repetition to trust all God's gifts of grace. Along that journey, they would unlearn how to be slaves and they would learn for the first time how to truly be free: following and living in the provision and presence of the God who was compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.

So the questions: what have you been learning about God through these summer months? What are the graces God is giving to you? What are the shapes for life—the habits & practices—he might be calling you into this Fall so that your attention and trust can be better trained on him? Where is he calling you to trust more fully in Him? Take some time to reflect on those questions today.

May God continue to tent it with you in the wilderness as he accomplishes his purposes in your life and in the lives of all His people.

"The Lord replied, 'My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.' Then Moses said to him, 'If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?' And the Lord said to Moses, "I will do the very thing you have asked, because I am pleased with you and I know you by name." (Exodus 33:14, 15, 17)

There is a saying I've mentioned before. It goes like this:

All life includes change. All change includes loss. Every loss needs to be grieved.

COVID is quickly disappearing from our memory. Strange that it should—such a major, life-changing moment as it was. A similar thing happened after the Flu pandemic of the early 1900's though. People just moved on and quit talking about it as quickly as they could.

And yet, a conversation I had yesterday reminded me of the fact that over these past years of COVID, so many of us experienced a huge acceleration of change and loss in our lives. It struck me then that a real burden of grief continues to linger in the background for many of us, whether we always realize it or not. It comes out as anger, as loneliness, as busyness, as anxiety—all sorts of different ways—but it's there.

We might forget, but many of the most significant stories of our scriptures live in that same place with us. It is Good Friday with Jesus on the cross… with the disciples mourning through a long Saturday… with Job on the ash heap… with David in the valley of the shadow of death… with the Israelites in the wilderness. It's well-trodden territory.

Two things permeate each of those bleak valleys of grief, doubt, and loss: our questions and the God we ask them to. Like Jesus' "why?" of forsakenness in the garden or Moses' "how?" in the desert. God heard each question, as He does all our doubts and laments. For Moses and the Israelites, he even answered directly: "I know you by name. My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest."

That was far from an immediate solution. It would still be 38 years more in the desert before the Israelites arrived in the promised land. That's a long time of doubt, wandering, and grieving—longer by far than COVID lasted. But the Israelites survived and even flourished under the some of the harshest conditions of change, loss, and scarcity on earth in that time—not because they had any control, or because they grinned and bore it, or avoided it altogether—but simply because God's presence was with them, and His promise of rest stood before them. It turns out: that was enough.

In Hebrew, the word for God's "presence" is the same as the word for God's "face." The blessing of "the Lord make His face to shine upon you" is all about God's presence. That blessing isn't about things changing back to the way they were before or new things coming to fill up what's been lost—it is about God's presence with us through whatever changes we experience. The strange conviction of our faith is that a God who is Immanuel—with us—in the valleys of our pain and grief is enough.

So, take heart: God is with you. What griefs from the changes and losses of these past years do you still carry that you might share with him today?

I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you (Genesis 28:15).

The Christian faith is deeply rooted in the promises of God. As Hebrews 11 so famously puts it, "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for" (1-2).

Being a Christian means that we believe there is more to life than this reality, there is more than what we can see with our eyes. There is something better in front of us. The writer of Hebrews tells us that many Old Testament saints were commended for living in this hope.

Would we be commended in the same way?

When I think about the spirituality of African slaves sold in the American marketplace, I think about a people who, while enduring unspeakable horrors, often saw the hope of the Christian gospel. That a strong gospel tradition remains among those so mistreated by folks claiming to be following Christ is beyond all human reason.

But I digress, that is not what this devotional is about. Or maybe it is. You see, our text is a promise which God makes to Jacob, the son of Isaac, the son of Abraham. And God makes it in the context of Jacob's unbelief.

Here is the story in a nutshell. When Rebekah was pregnant with twins, "they jostled" within her. She asked God why this was happening and was told that the older would serve the younger. This was contrary to the normal cultural practice. As they were growing up, Isaac loved the older, Esau, and Rebekah the younger, Jacob. She wanted Jacob to receive the promise God had made to her but doubted that God could pull it off.

As a result of her doubt, she convinced Jacob to deceive both his father and his twin brother. The ruse worked. But when it was discovered, Jacob's twin vowed to kill his bother. So, Jacob flees for his life.

It is as Jacob flees that God interrupts his flight, not to send him back but to speed him on his way with the promise that God will bring him back. Jacob was living in the land of promise, now he was fleeing because of his and his mother's unbelief, but God would bring him back.

Wow.

This is the gospel. Despite our disobedience and unbelief God will complete his work of redemption. This is good news for all of us who find ourselves living in the land of sin. We are often tempted to think that our sin has derailed God's work.

Nope.

Despite our sinfulness and lack of faith, God continues to call us back to faith and hope. The fulfillment of his promises is not dependent on us. As Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, "The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it" (5:24).

Have you given up on God's promises? What would it mean for you to pick them up again? How would it change the way that you live?

Journey on with God's blessing,

May God himself, the God who makes everything holy and whole, make you holy and whole, put you together—spirit, soul, and body—and keep you fit for the coming of our Master, Jesus Christ. The One who called you is completely dependable. If he said it, he'll do it! The amazing grace of Jesus Christ be with you!

An extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Galatians 3:23-5:12 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection! To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

DIVE IN QUESTIONS

1. What stands out to you most from hearing these verses from Luke 18?

2. What kind of man was the ruler? What did he want or expect from Jesus?

3. What is Jesus' response? What does Jesus demand of the man? And as Pastor Anthony fleshed that demand out further—what all is included?

4. Does Jesus demand any less of us?

5. What does Jesus do to make the impossible, possible?

6. What is the calling for our lives?

The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:5b-7)

A strange thing can happen when we know we should talk to someone, but don't. Maybe we need to talk to them because we see or know that they're struggling. Maybe there's a tension or disagreement unresolved between us. Maybe we owe them something. Maybe it's simply the fact that it's an important relationship that we want to keep up with.

Whatever the case, the longer we go without talking to that person, the harder it becomes to reach out and do it. I'm not exactly sure why. Maybe we get used to telling ourselves that we'll do it later. Maybe the conversation feels too big or too important to try to squeeze into any of the moments we have and so we wait for an opportune moment that just never seems to come. Or, maybe we build up a story in our head that they're frustrated or angry with us for not talking to them, and that makes it all the harder to reach out.

I think I've been guilty of all of these at some point. And, most of the time when I do finally talk to that person I've been avoiding, it brings relief. We take steps to resolve our issues, we're encouraged by each other, I discover that they weren't nearly as upset at me as I had imagined. Sometimes I find that they didn't realize anything was wrong, making clear in an instant that I'd been agonizing over nothing. Sometimes there's nothing to it, but to do it: to just reach out and talk. Sometimes that's the quickest way to peace.

I think that same dynamic plays itself out in our relationship with God, too. We know we should talk to him. It's an important relationship. We owe him our thanks. Perhaps we feel a tension between us of some guilt or sin that needs confessing on our side, or something we're frustrated at God about that he seemingly hasn't held up on his.

The longer we go without talking, the harder it is. And yet, when we do, more often than not what we walk away with after is his peace that transcends all understanding.

So Paul reminds us, the Lord has already drawn near to us. He has already redeemed us and adopted us as his very own in Christ Jesus, making all the peace there ever needs to be between he and us already. So, no need to be anxious about coming to God in prayer. He's already taken the first step. He's already confirmed his love and forgiveness to us in Christ. So, come to him. Talk to him. Today. And let his peace in Jesus that transcends understanding meet you and guard your hearts and minds as you journey on.

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands…The law of the Lord is perfect, refreshing the soul…May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart, be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and My Redeemer" (Psalm 19:1,7,14).

I have a memory of preachers praying the end of our text prior launching their sermons. The memory is probably 40 years old by now. It is a good practice. I use it myself on occasion during a worship service, but more often in my study as I prepare during the week.

Have you ever prayed this prayer? I assume that most of you are not preachers. Still, I ask you this question. Do you pray this prayer?

You see, it is very unlikely that this psalm was originally prayed by a preacher. In the heading before the psalm, it is ascribed to David. Those headings are not considered part of the inspired Word of God; thus, we readily admit they might be wrong. Nevertheless, the psalm is meant to be prayed by all of God's people. That includes you.

It is thus valuable to look back and find out how the final verse of the psalm came to be included. The psalm can easily be divided into three parts. The first is a magnificent song detailing how the natural world exudes with the glory of God. After my meditation on Psalm 18 last week, one wonderful reader wrote that she was struck by the contrast of these two psalms. Both contain creation imagery, but in vastly different ways. We prefer the images of this psalm, but we need both.

If you check out the Belgic Confession, you will discover that Article 2 teaches that the creation is one of the two ways that we get to know God. It takes its cue from Psalm 19 but alludes to Psalm 18 as well. We can learn much of God's grandeur, greatness, creativity, and providential care if we spend time in God's creation and observe it. One gets the impression that this prayer may have come for the experiences of a shepherd leading his sheep and protecting them as he slept under the stars.

Some of us live in the 'concrete jungle' rarely getting out of the city boundaries. Still, if we pay attention, we can God's creatures, both animal and plants, creeping into this jungle. Is God quietly reminding us that we cannot cement him out of our lives?

The second part of the prayer takes delight in the spoken and written words of God which give direction for life. This psalmist recognized that there are different ways in which we might live. We are always faced with moral choices. This psalmist declares that God's ways are the absolute best. Here we are invited to ponder our own relationship with the Scriptures. Many of us learn to read the Bible as a textbook, as a place to get information. Here, the Word of God is portrayed as a treasure to be enjoyed, savoured, even played with. Always, with an eye to enjoying God himself, to borrow Presbyterian language.

The psalm concludes with a personal reflection on these two great sources for deepening our relationship with God. I believe the conclusion begins with verse 11. Essentially, the psalmist says that he wants his life to measure up to God's standard. Notice that it is only after he has spent time with both God's creation and His Word that he moves to this conclusion. I highly recommend the psalmist's pattern.

The psalmist stands in awe of God. Not just of God's greatness and majesty, but also of God's mercy and grace. He asks for forgiveness and the grace to lead a blameless life. Surely this is a prayer that we all ought to pray.

As you journey on, let Jude's doxology encourage you:

To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen (Jude 24,25).

All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people's sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ's behalf: Be reconciled to God. (2 Corinthians 5:18-20)

God's saving work in Christ gives us a new identity, a way to walk, and the equipping of the Spirit to walk in that way. And as we learn to walk in this way of Christ, we discover that one of the fundamental cadences that begins to mark our steps is confession and forgiveness. The way of reconciliation.

That's not strange, it was God who first reconciled us to Himself through Christ. While we were still sinners, Christ forgave us through his taking of our place on the cross. The initiative was God's, and still to this day, that forgiving initiative of God is what invites us out of our hiding places to honestly confess and receive that which is ours in Christ: forgiveness and restoration to full relationship with God. His forgiveness leads and disarms us, our confession follows, and we are reconciled.

This is the power of the Kingdom of God, and it is the power that God authorizes all of us as the ambassadors of his kingdom to utilize fully as we walk in his ways among our family, neighbours, and friends. Whoever we're with, each of us walk with this diplomatic communique of the Kingdom in our hand. It is God's invitation to the world to receive his forgiveness so that they can be reconciled to God.

It's more than that though: in a very real way, we ourselves are that communique of the Kingdom. We are called to live it too: to forgive as we have been forgiven. To confess openly and honestly when we're in the wrong or have wronged someone else, because we've been forgiven. Not only is that a diplomatically attractive way to display the walk of our citizenship in the Kingdom, it also carries power with it to draw poison from wounds, to heal, and to restore.

You don't have to go far to discover anger, estrangement, bitterness, grudges, and hopelessness. It is in the news, in our politics, on our social media feeds, and in our families too. Even in our church denomination, a constant drumbeat of the inevitability of our splitting off from one another can be heard.

But this is not the power of the Kingdom. Forgiveness is. Reconciliation is. And this forgiveness and reconciliation has the power not only to heal our hurts, but perhaps also our relationships, our political divides, our church, and our world.

How might you respond to God's radical diplomacy of forgiveness today?

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace (Ephesians 4:1-3).

In recent weeks, I offered devotions on finishing well and starting well. I ended the second one by alluding to the possibility of mid-life course corrections. That is what I want to pick up on today.

Like many of you, our family has taken several long road trips. Today, with GPSs in our cars and on our phones, it takes some effort to get lost. Before such technology, when we used Triptiks from CAA it was much easier. For years, we had a big map atlas that had a page for each province and state. Of course, these quickly became outdated, thus inaccurate. On occasion, we would lose the road we intended to take and would have to find our way back.

Such diversions happen in Christian discipleship as well. At times, they are caused by sinful choices we make. Other times, the events of life blow us off course. It might also be that we drift simply through inattention or minor distractions. And so, it can happen that we need a course correction. The words of our text are helpful in this regard. They contain two pointers for us.

First, they remind us that God's calling to us is not primarily about our 'occupation' in life. Rather, our calling is mainly about character, "be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love". Jesus is more concerned about how we live than what we do. How we behave while engaged in our occupation is more important to God than what we are doing (with some exceptions, of course).

And second, Jesus is concerned that we have a healthy connection with the fellowship of believers. He calls each of us to contribute in a healthy way to the life of the church. We all need to participate in a way that leads to both unity and maturity in the fellowship. Here, we need to think beyond the structures of the church. Even if we do not have an official title, we are still called to contribute to the building up of healthy Chrisitan community.

"Unity and Maturity in the Body of Christ" is the title the NIV editors gave this section. I think they are spot on.

Starting well, finishing well, course corrections are all good things for us to reflect on. We should ponder them from a Christian perspective. Often, we think about those things from the perspective of 'worldly success.' An old bumper sticker read, "the one with the most toys wins." Toys are not necessarily material possessions; they can be accomplishments of any kind, things we have built for ourselves. Something we can point to at the end of life and say, "I built that."

If its time for a mid-life course correction, it is possible that you need to consider what you are doing. But it is more important to consider 'how you are living.' Are you living a life worthy of the calling you have received from Jesus? Are you being 'completely humble and gentle; patient, bearing with others in love'? Are you 'making every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace'?

As you journey on into the week ahead, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

"Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." (Deuteronomy 6:4-9).

I mentioned this before, but I've been struck by the absence of congregational worship from the life of the Old Testament. I mean, daily, weekly, and annual rhythms of sacrifice and prayer were always going on at the National gathering place of tabernacle and later the temple. And the weekly rhythms of Sabbath were ongoing in homes across the land. But there's no steady intermediate place. No church or synagogue where a community that was larger than one's household, but smaller than the whole tribe or nation would gather for a weekly service.

Much more emphasis was placed on the two anchor points at the extreme: on the one end—the central worship at tabernacle and temple where the rituals of confession, sacrifice, forgiveness, and praise were rehearsed, and on the other end—the decentralized worship that happened week to week in homes when the Sabbath was observed. But what about those spaces between?

Here in Deuteronomy 6, the Israelites are finally at the doorstep of the promised land. Their wilderness wanderings have come to an end. For 40 years, they have been shaped by centralized worship. The tabernacle was pitched right in the center of the camp. Anyone could look down the row of tents to see it. Always—daily—the rituals were being rehearsed and repeated there again and again in the sight of the people. Always—daily—the conversation with God was being kept as He and Moses spoke face to face in the tent of meeting. Always—daily—the people were on pilgrimage with their God and their God with them. The ordinary stuff of everyday life was entirely and visibly intertwined with the sacred realities of God among them.

But they were about to be scattered. Changing from nomads to homeowners, they would no longer be one big camp together in one place surrounding their central place of worship at the tabernacle—they would be scattered to their own homes and towns, days away from each other. They might not see a priest or the tabernacle for months. So here on the plains of Moab, overlooking this promised land, Moses begins to remind the people of what they will need most to remain faithful in this new reality of life in the land.

His speech here is about staying faithful in the everyday ordinary stuff of life. To love God. To keep God and His ways regularly on your lips and in your heart. You do this by telling of His stories and commands when you're sitting around, when you're on the go, when you're parenting, when you're going out, when you're coming in, when you turn in for the night, and when you get up the next morning. Make a note on your hand to remember if you have to!

The life of faith has to be lived where you are every day of your life—especially when we're scattered, as we often are through these summer months: but also just in the regular six days that fall between Sundays.

Pastor Michael and I pray that these devotions continue to help make your faith walk an everyday part of your life in just that way. What are other faith habits, conversations with or about God, or spiritual disciplines that keep you walking and talking out your faith through the week?

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is James 4:13-17 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

DIVE IN

v James challenges our presumptive living. In what did do we live this way? Consider some moments in your life where you made choices based on "moral therapeutic deism" or religion is "a very nice thing"?

v What is the counterpoint to presumptive living? What do we believe about God? What do we believe about ourselves?

v The sermon included four practices that help develop submission. What insights did you have as we reflected on these? Choose one or more of them (you may choose your own) and develop a plan to practice it (them).