Now, Israel, hear the decrees and laws I am about to teach you. Follow them so that you may live and may go in and take possession of the land the Lord, the God of your ancestors, is giving you (Deuteronomy 4:1).

Moses continues talking. I hope there was some shade for his listeners. He has many words left before he will finish. His passion and purpose are becoming quite clear: he wants Israel to live. He is not sure they are up to it, so he will keep talking, hammering home the same points. Of course, he has good reason for his scepticism, having little confidence that Israel will remember his words. In his 40 years as leader of this flock, he has noticed that their capacity to listen to and follow the law of God is limited.

His main point is this: obedience is life, disobedience is death. Life here is not eternal life as Christians understand it, but the full enjoyment of God's blessings in the land promised to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. The land will be given to them. That promise will not be taken away. But for Israel to dwell, to possess, to enjoy the land, each generation must commit itself to following the law of God. Moses is not sure they will.

This positive view of God's law is celebrated with unrestrained delight in Psalms 19:7-11 and 119. Here is a taste of Psalm 19, "The precepts of the Lord are right, giving joy to the heart. The commands of the Lord are radiant, giving light to the eyes. They are more precious than gold, than much pure gold; they are sweeter than honey, than honey from the honeycomb" (8,10).

It's worth our time to wonder how different we are from Israel. Recently, I listened to a podcast on which theologian John Stackhouse warned that some Canadian evangelical Christians do not take the Bible very seriously. We are reluctant to conform our lifestyle and thinking to what the Bible says. The way we function suggests that do not have a high view of scripture. So, its worth asking, does it taste like honey or like vinegar to us?

John asserts that in Jesus, someone better than Moses' has arrived. Many are familiar with his words, "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth" (1:14). And he adds, "From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. For the Law was given through Moses; grace and truth happened through Jesus Christ" (John 1:16-17). The contrast is not between law and grace, but two ways of expressing grace, the latter better than the former: Moses only spoke it, Jesus embodied, lived it. Moses spoke the law; Jesus spoke it and lived it.

And Jesus agrees with Moses' emphasis that obedience is life. He said, "If you love me, keep my commands…If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love… I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete" (John 14:15, 15:10-11).

Israel was gifted the land, but only through obedience would they enjoy the life God offered them. Likewise, for Christians, we cannot receive the gift of God's grace in Christ and ignore what he says. We are saved by faith in Christ. But faith goes to work. Paul wrote, "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love" (Galatians 5:8).

Peter used more words, "make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ" (2 Peter 1:5-7). I think Moses would agree.

We cannot embrace eternal life without producing its fruit. Take some time to make a plan, a goal. How will you live your faith today? How will you embrace the life God gives by sharing it in some way?

At that time I pleaded with the Lord: "Sovereign Lord, you have begun to show to your servant your greatness and your strong hand. For what god is there in heaven or on earth who can do the deeds and mighty works you do? Let me go over and see the good land beyond the Jordan—that fine hill country and Lebanon." But because of you the Lord was angry with me and would not listen to me. "That is enough," the Lord said. "Do not speak to me anymore about this matter. Go up to the top of Pisgah and look west and north and south and east. Look at the land with your own eyes, since you are not going to cross this Jordan. But commission Joshua, and encourage and strengthen him, for he will lead this people across and will cause them to inherit the land that you will see." So we stayed in the valley near Beth Peor. (Deuteronomy 3:23-29)

Here at the end of chapter three, after Sihon and Og, the Kings of the Amorites have been defeated, Israel is ready to enter the promised land. The anticipation is growing, and on this threshold between the wilderness and the promise, Moses prays. God has shown him so much, will God not show him just a little more by allowing him to go over to see this good land for himself?

Moses already knew the answer, of course. God tells him that this answer will not change. However: God does grant half of Moses' request. God will indeed allow him to "see" the promised land: "go look at the land with your own eyes," God says. But Moses is not to confuse the land of God's promise with God himself. God and God's word of promise will have to be enough for Moses. This is as far as he will go. It is the one named Joshua, meaning, "the Lord's Saves"—he is the one who will lead the people across to their inheritance.

One direction this devotion could go is to speak to all of us on the threshold of life transitions that force us to relinquish all that we still would wish to be and to do. Getting married, having a baby, sending a child to school, graduating, starting a job or career, retiring, downsizing, contemplating death as Moses was—all of these are just that sort of transition that entail a loss of some kind. The question to us would be: in these transitions, is God enough for us? What if it's just him and his promises and nothing more? Can we let go and rest in the peace of God, trusting that that is enough for us?

Another direction this devotion could go is to recognize something curious about Moses himself. One of the commentators we've been following (Patrick Miller, Interpretation) does this, and I think it's worth a few words. Moses says that it is "because of you the Lord was angry with me and would not listen to me." In the end, Moses also accepts this word from God. In a strange way: Moses, the faithful servant of the Lord takes on the punishment for the people. The people will enter the land. Moses will not—and somehow that is because of their sin (as the book points out elsewhere too).

The suffering servant of Isaiah plays a similar role. As does Jesus, who was the second Moses. Here in Deuteronomy 3 then is Moses' Gethsemane prayer: praying for the cup to be taken away. And yet in the end, Moses resigns himself to the will of God—"not mine but yours be done." Moses remains in the wilderness.

We as Christians—"little Christs"—are also called into this priestly role as we follow our Saviour, Jesus. We are called to bear the sins of the world and of our families, neighbours, and friends—to accept slaps and slanders, persecution and whatever else. We are to bear it in our souls where all this evil and sin can be put to death in the death of Christ such that what comes back out of us in return is the life of Christ. In this way we are priestly agents of God's transformation in the world: turning evil to good, sin to forgiveness, decay into hope.

What Gethsemane prayers might you need to lay before God in order to live this this priestly role faithfully today?

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is Deuteronomy 16:1-8 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 is happening behind the scenes with the 10 plagues? What is the essential message of the Passover?

2) Why the firstborn?

3) What element gets added to the Passover celebrations while Israel is in the Land of Promise? How does this connect with the Lord's Supper?

4) In what two streams of the Passover Celebration merge in Jesus?

5) How does the story of the Passover become a source of encouragement to Christians? Is it worthy celebrating?

When Sihon and all his army came out to meet us in battle at Jahaz, the Lord our God delivered him over to us and we struck him down, together with his sons and his whole army. At that time, we took all his towns and completely destroyed them—men, women and children. We left no survivors (Deuteronomy 2:32-34).

The Old Testament is often difficult to read. Many of us fret over the violence authored by God himself. How can we reconcile this account of complete destruction with Isaiah's description of the coming Saviour, "He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth" (53:7)?

Many have addressed this concern without full success. It is one of those aspects of the Bible that we must wrestle with, even if, in the end, we cannot satisfy our reservations and even revulsion of such stories. Yet, let us attempt to understand what happened.

As I mentioned in my sermon on Saul this past Sunday, God enters the human realm using the cultural elements at hand. The greatest example of this is Jesus' incarnation; he became a Jewish baby, incubating for nine months in Mary's womb. This has always been God's manner, coming to us in ways that we can understand. Theologians have often argued that the Bible itself is like this. In it, God condescends to use human language to give us a picture of himself. Yet, God is greater and more dynamic than mere human words can express. God uses our language even though it is inadequate.

And so, as Israel took possession of the promised land, she used methods that she understood and that were practiced by the other nations. But compete destruction? This is a technical term which the NIV footnote defines as "the irrevocable giving over of things or persons to the Lord, often by totally destroying them". There are very few examples of this happening.

There are two criteria offered in scripture for the destruction of the nations. One, those who directly opposed God's purposes and promises to Israel, as in Sihon and Og, in these early chapters of Deuteronomy. God wanted Israel to travel through their territory, on the way to the promised land. Instead of giving permission, these two kings marshalled their armies to destroy Israel, essentially saying, "over my dead body". So that is what happened.

Two, those who posed in a unique way the problem of religious contamination and syncretism, as in the Canaanites and Amorites. The reason for such strong measures is that these nations will turn Israel and her children away from worshipping the Lord her God.

The command for total destruction is rooted in the concern that Israel will be easily swayed to abandon God. That she will quickly ignore God's first command, "No other gods, only me" (Deut. 5:7, The Message). This appears to be Moses' main concern in this entire book. As he says in chapter 6, "Attention, Israel! God, our God! God the one and only! Love God, your God, with your whole heart: love him with all that's in you, love him with all you've got!" (4,5).

Israel's subsequent history proved this to be a valid concern. Here we do well to ponder her history. Do we love the Lord any better than Israel did? Aren't we too, easily swayed to add other gods to our religion?

This was a particular time and place in history. These stories do not give us permission to use such tactics today. There is too much in scripture about the humane treatment of other persons, about special regard for the weak and powerless; and about a very different way of dealing with enemies, with the power of love, rather than hatred, belligerence, or destruction.

When Jesus was asked about the centre of the Law, he quoted Moses' words in 6:4,5 followed by Leviticus 19:18, "Love others as well as you love yourself". These are the heart of the law. Paul expands on this by quoting from Proverbs: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head" (25:21,22; cf. Romans 12:20).

This is the culture of the church established by the Lamb who was silent before his executioners. We can be grateful that God calls us to a different way of life then Old Testament Israel. Yet, we must ask again, "Are we different then they were?" We may not strike with swords, but what about with words? How have you blessed your enemies this week?

And the Lord said, "Now get up and cross the Zered Valley." So we crossed the valley. Thirty-eight years passed from the time we left Kadesh Barnea until we crossed the Zered Valley. By then, that entire generation of fighting men had perished from the camp, as the Lord had sworn to them. The Lord's hand was against them until he had completely eliminated them from the camp. Now when the last of these fighting men among the people had died, the Lord said to me, "Today you are to pass by the region of Moab at Ar. (Deuteronomy 2:13-18)

In the land of Esau, the land south of the Zered Valley, the last of Jacob's unfaithful descendants die. Does the text mean to recall more through this geographical point of interest? I think it does.

If you recall from the story in Genesis 32-33, Jacob is filled with "great fear and distress" (Gen. 32:7) at the prospect of meeting his brother Esau again after so many years in exile with his uncle Laban. Jacob wrestles, alone, all that night with a man who he later understands to have been God. In some way, this is a story of Jacob's fear wrestling with a God who proves to be for Jacob, not against him. Jacob had a hard time believing that God really could be faithful to his promise of establishing Jacob in the promised land, given the frightful prospect of Esau and his 400 men. And so, Jacob's fear wrestles against the promise of God 'til daybreak where he is given the name "Israel," the "one who wrestles with God." As it turns out, Jacob's desire for blessing proves stronger than his fear. He survives the encounter and lives, though not without a God-induced limp to humble him and remind him that he always lives by God's saving, and not his own.

Our present story in Deuteronomy is similar. It is in the land of Esau, south of the Zered Valley, where Israel once again becomes Israel. For a 38-year-long night their fears have caused them to disbelievingly wrestle with God's promises. At the end of this long night: their desire for blessing wins out and they are still alive, but not without a significant limp. All the fearful fighting men have died and Israel is reminded that they live by God's promises, God's provision, and God's saving—not their own.

It's worth noting that this is the first Holy War described in the book of Deuteronomy. "The Lord's hand was against them until he had completely eliminated them." This language is the same as in other God-directed military campaigns that Israel will undertake. It is important to remember, therefore, that the first Holy War is not against the enemies of Israel, but is waged within Israel itself. Fear had to die out of the camp before Israel could trustingly receive the promise of God's victory.

The promise given to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob could only be received by a people of Abraham's faith, who were willing to go on nothing more than the word of God, trusting that whatever was needful would be given by God. Or perhaps more accurately: a people of Jacob's limping faith, that through wrestling with fear and doubt would have to discover again and again that God's blessing was worth pursuing, that God was faithful to his promise, and that anyway: God was the only hope for salvation they had.

The language of fear vs. faith and fear vs. love will show up again and again in the Bible. It is at the heart of the account of Saul vs. David that we've just finished off. Read 1 Samuel 18—the passage is just dripping with the contrast between the fear encircling Saul and the love buoying up David in the promises of God. Or again in the New Testament, go back to the passages cited by Pastor Michael yesterday like that from 1 John 4: "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear…"

This dynamic shows up in our own hearts still today. So take time to examine: what fears in your heart cause you to wrestle with the promises of God rather than receive them? We tritely and simply accuse others we disagree with these days of being "fearful," particularly when it comes to the culture war battles being fought within the church. The accusation may very well be correct. But remember: the first holy war is fought within—not without. Before we can go crusading against the world—we have to wrestle through the fears of our own hearts. Having done so, we may just find that there's actually no battle to be fought at all on the other side… just gifts to be trustingly received from the God of promise and blessing who saves us still.

[God said], You have made your way around this hill country long enough; now turn north. You are about to pass through the territory of your relatives the descendants of Esau, who live in Seir. They will be afraid of you, but be very careful. Do not provoke them to war, for I will not give you any of their land, not even enough to put your foot on. I have given Esau the hill country of Seir as his own. You are to pay them in silver for the food you eat and the water you drink (Deuteronomy 2:2-6).

Moses is recounting Israel's history. His own commentary is mixed in with God's directions for the journey and instructions for life as his people. In our text, he is recounting the moment for which Israel had spent nearly 40 years waiting. That's how long they had been wondering in the wilderness after the first failed attempt to enter the land.

One can imagine that a few of the Israelites wondered quietly if God would keep his promise or would he leave them to wander endlessly, generation after generation, in this wilderness. Centuries earlier God had promised to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that their descendants would one day live in the land of promise. Israel's lack of trust in God's capacity to make it happen had launched them on this 40-year wilderness wanderings. Maybe God didn't want to risk it again.

But no! God calls an end to this pilgrimage. "It's time," he says. He is faithful to his promises. He was now setting the stage for their triumphant entry into the Promised Land from across the Jordan opposite Jericho. He will give them the land. These stories are written, as least in part, so that we will see God's faithfulness at work. We, too, must often wait for God to fulfill his promises. Sometimes, the waiting is long and longer. We, too, wonder if God has forgotten, or maybe God is abandoning us to the wilderness. The promise God made to Abraham took more than 400 years to be fulfilled. The lesson here is simple: God does not forget; he keeps his promises. Trust him.

This part of Moses' sermon also demonstrates that God is faithful to his threats. Because the faithless Israelites had refused to enter the Promised Land, God swore to destroy that generation in the desert and start over with a new people. There is also a warning here for us. That first generation was ungrateful for divine grace experienced over and over again. They repeatedly clamored to return to Egypt. Part of the covenant arrangement is that we take God seriously at his word. That we trust him. There is consequence for lack of trust.

Consequences for lack of trust may appear less obvious for us then they were for Israel. But, then again, maybe not. Consider the disciples in the boat with Jesus soundly asleep while the wind and waves threatened to capsize the craft. What does Jesus say when they wake him, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" (Mark 4:40). Later, one of those disciples would pen the line, "Perfect love drives out fear" (1 John 4:18). Whose love is the disciple speaking about? God's love of course. We do not need to fear because God loves us. This is the lesson Israel had such a hard time learning. Are we much different? But we do not have to live in fear, we can trust in his love. It was lived out on the cross.

There is another lesson in this text. The reference to Esau is significant. The land his descendant's live in was given to them by God. It's the same language that is used to describe God giving Canaan to Israel. God is involved with the nations around Israel as well. We do well to remember this. As much as it may seem that God is absent from the affairs of the world, Moses wants Israel to see that God is the King of kings. This gives us encouragement in our prayers for the nations, for peace among the peoples.

Israel did have a unique purpose, but she did not have a monopoly on God. God is deeply invested in the whole earth. The psalmist understood this well when composing this prayer, "May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face shine on us—so that your ways may be known on earth, your salvation among all nations… May the peoples praise you, God; may all the peoples praise you" (Psalm 67:1,2,5). Likewise, the church does not have a monopoly on God. God is always at work outside the church. The church is called to reveal God to the nations, that the peoples may join us in praising him.

This is a return of sorts to an old devotion from February 23, 2021. I had intended to write something new for today, but find myself sick instead. This devotion remains a good one to be reminded of, and from a bit later on in the same run of history that we're covering now in Deuteronomy. May you find hope in God as you read...

"…the Lord your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below. Now then, please swear to me by the Lord that you will show kindness to my family, because I have shown kindness to you. Give me a sure sign that you will spare the lives of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them—and that you will save us from death." "Our lives for your lives!" the men assured her. … "Agreed," she replied. "Let it be as you say." So she sent them away, and they departed. And she tied the scarlet cord in the window. (Joshua 2:11b-14a, 21)

Rahab the prostitute, hanging by a thread at the approach of the army of Israel who intended to raze Jericho to the ground.

Rahab clearly didn't hold a high position in her ancient society. She was likely assumed to be a woman of dubious character. She quite likely was a victim of circumstances out of her control that placed her in this profession. Economic hardship. No husband to guard her rights. A prostitute.

And yet, Rahab the prostitute gives a full and sincere confession of faith in the God of Israel, nearly as strong a confession as anyone else in the book of Joshua as she speaks to the sovereignty and power of the Lord who will give this new land to his people.

She trusted this Lord she had only ever heard about, and she entrusted herself to his people. "Give me a sure sign… that you will save us from death," she says. And the sign they give her is a sign that oddly reverberates with the crimson blood of the lambs smeared over the entry ways of the Israelites on the night of Passover. In her window she is to tie a scarlet cord, and huddle inside behind locked doors with her whole family as the Israelites did on the night of their salvation.

But this cord signifies more. This story is the second instance of this Hebrew word for hope. Where is that word in this story? The "scarlet cord." There are actually three words here in the Hebrew. One of them means thread, one of them means scarlet, and the last of them has a root which means "to be tense/rigid," or by extension "to be expectant." That last one is our word for hope, and is indeed translated as hope elsewhere in the Bible.

Rahab the prostitute, hanging by a scarlet thread of hope in the Lord, even as the walls were quite literally about to collapse around her, putting an end to life as she'd known it. But that scarlet thread of hope playing gently in the wind was also the promise that a new life was coming.

Even when a thread is all you seem to be holding on by: it's enough. Hope in God never comes with much in this life we can lay our hands on, just a thin whisp of scarlet hope. But as these members of Jesus' own genealogy—Rahab, Jacob, and Ruth—would discover: God is faithful. The Lord delivers. A hope in him, threadbare though it may be, is never misplaced.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is 1 Samuel 11 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. Do you agree with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn: "If only it were all so simple! If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?"? In what ways have you been tempted to divide the world into good and evil people?
2. Do you struggle with the violence ways in which Israel sometimes related to her neighbours? Can we say anything that might help us with this? How does the Amalekite attitude towards Israel play into this?
3. How does this passage portray Saul? What does it reveal about God?
4. What is at the heart of obedience? Where do you find this most difficult? In what ways do your religious activities hide a heart that only half-heartedly listens to God?

Then you replied, "We have sinned against the Lord. We will go up and fight, as the Lord our God commanded us." So, every one of you put on his weapons, thinking it easy to go up into the hill country. But the Lord said to me, "Tell them, 'Do not go up and fight, because I will not be with you. You will be defeated by your enemies.'" So, I told you, but you would not listen. You rebelled against the Lord's command and in your arrogance, you marched up into the hill country. The Amorites who lived in those hills came out against you; they chased you like a swarm of bees and beat you down from Seir all the way to Hormah. You came back and wept before the Lord, but he paid no attention to your weeping and turned a deaf ear to you (Deuteronomy 1:41-45).

As all parent knows, raising children is full of complexity. Taking a newborn home from the hospital may seem like the scariest thing on earth. Many parents have moments of utter panic as they realize that this little human is utterly dependent on them. Yet, years later, looking back, we realize that that was the easy part.

Its what came after that proved to be so complex. How do we teach our children to live within proper boundaries? How much pain do we allow them to experience so that they learn? How do they come to believe that we have their best interest in mind when we put up limits? Will they ever learn to truly listen to us?

These questions, and more, are at play in our text for today. Moses is reminding Israel of her history, hoping that the children will respond differently to God then their parents. Yesterday, Pastor Anthony, talked about how the parents did not trust in the Lord. They would not believe that he loved them. They did not believe that he was a good father who intended to give good gifts to his children. Because they refused to trust and obey, God said he would give the good land to their children instead. The parents would wonder aimlessly in the wilderness until their children reached adulthood.

Well, when the first generation heard that, they were sorry indeed. They realized they had sinned against God. In their eagerness to make it up to him, they decided to go and take the land, to do battle against those who lived there. As they armed for battle, Moses warned them not to go, God would not go with them. They went, only to discover that the land "flowing with milk and honey" also produced stinging bees, which swarmed around them, chased them off, and struck them down. Why? They recognized their sin, but still were not willing to listen to God.

Having chastised the Corinthians, Paul draws a parallel with this episode when he writes, "…your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended… Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death. See what this godly sorrow has produced in you… (1 Corinthians 7:9-11).

What was the difference between Israel and the Corinthians? Paul speaks about two effects of sorrow or grief. There is worldly sorrow, which is at best a shallow remorse, but which is consumed by bitterness and self-pity and which issues in death. Clearly, the Israelites demonstrated this. "In their arrogance," Moses said, they went to war. "We know better than God," they said, "we know how to fix this."

Alternatively, there is godly sorrow which produces repentance as expressed in earnestness, eagerness, longing and concern and which issues in salvation. The difference between the two comes down to this, "listening." After then confessed their sin, the Israelites were still not willing to listen to God. They had not changed. But the Corinthians did. They began to pay attention.

God, our Father, lavishes grace on his children, but also gets angry when we defy him and refuse to trust him. Jesus' parable of the unforgiving servant (Matthew 18:23-35) teaches us this is still true. God, our Father, loves and carries and cares for us, but Hebrews 12:6 reminds us that the fatherhood of God means more: "The Lord trains the one he loves. He corrects everyone he accepts as his child."

Sometimes, some of the pain we experience is this kind of pain. We should be very cautious about naming this for someone else. But we should be willing to name it for ourselves. Are you? Is there this kind of pain in your life right now? If so, whose example will you follow? If you turn to God with godly, listening sorrow, know that you can carry on with the blessing of your Heavenly Father.

"There you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place." In spite of this, you did not trust in the Lord your God, who went ahead of you on your journey, in fire by night and in a cloud by day, to search out places for you to camp and to show you the way you should go. When the Lord heard what you said, he was angry and solemnly swore: "No one from this evil generation shall see the good land I swore to give your ancestors… And the little ones that you said would be taken captive, your children who do not yet know good from bad—they will enter the land. I will give it to them and they will take possession of it. But as for you, turn around and set out toward the desert along the route to the Red Sea." (Deuteronomy 1:31-35, 39-40)

One might think that a good parent-child relationship builds trust. But that is not Israel's response to God's fatherly care that saved them and provided for them.

Even despite the report of a good land from Moses, from the spies, and from God's own promise. Even despite the assurance received from Moses and from the Israelite's own experience. Even still: fear of the "facts" as the Israelites decided to see them overshadowed the relationship of trust with God their Father.

This is now the third time that Israel has responded in fear instead of in faith. The first time was when they asked to send spies to show them where to go instead of trusting the God who had led them by cloud and fire to show them where to go. The second time was when they named all the many fears they had, including not only a fear of the scary people in the land, but also a fear that God their father actually hated them and intended to kill them off by means of the Amorites in the land.

After this second time, Moses assures them: do not be afraid—God will fight for you and care for you as a Father—just as you yourselves have seen him do these past years in the wilderness! But they would not trust in this Lord. They would not believe that he loved them. They would not believe that he was a good father who intended to give good gifts to his children.

So finally God himself speaks. To the people who could not see the gifts of provision and care in the wilderness: they will not see the good gift of the promised land either. To the people who saw God as a God of hate that wished for their death, they will receive precisely what they expected: death as a punishment from their God. For this people unwilling to be children of the father, their place would be taken by true children: their own.

Through this passage runs a common question of the Bible. The question is: what do you see? Do you more quickly see enemies or gifts? Do you see scarcity or abundance? And what God do you see? A God of love, or of hate?

To put the question differently, do you see the world through the eyes of a child, or of a cynic? Children know how to receive gifts, receive love, receive care. Children are trusting. Children have faith.

As the writer of Hebrews will later write, reflecting on all the stories of Israel: "faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." So, what do you see when you look out at the world around you?

May God open your eyes more and more to the childlike, faith-filled vision of his fatherly care, good gifts, and loving action.