Provisions and Promises

“Provisions and Promises” was preached on Tuesday, March 1, 2016 at Princeton Theological Seminary as part of my “When Sundays Come Quicker Than Sermons” course. Inspirations for this short sermon included scripture, commentaries, my current congregational context, and “The Awakening” by J. Seward Johnson, Jr.

—————————————

Joshua 5:9-12

9 The Lord said to Joshua, “Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.” And so that place is called Gilgal to this day.

10 While the Israelites were camped in Gilgal they kept the Passover in the evening on the fourteenth day of the month in the plains of Jericho. 11 On the day after the Passover, on that very day, they ate the produce of the land, unleavened cakes and parched grain. 12 The manna ceased on the day they ate the produce of the land, and the Israelites no longer had manna; they ate the crops of the land of Canaan that year.

—————————————

This past weekend I spent my Saturday exploring the outdoor art exhibit “Grounds for Sculpture” out in Hamilton, New Jersey. For those of you who have never been to or heard of “Grounds for Sculpture,” it is an outdoor sculpture park covering 42-acres of land. As you walk through the park, you will see various sculptures both as abstract and concrete pieces of art. For example, you will see a large glass box filled with human-sized baby dolls in the middle of a small forest and you will also see a giant-sized farmer dancing with his wife as soon as you enter through the gates.

One particular piece really had me contemplating its meaning. It was a statue of a giant man separated into five distinct pieces protruding from the ground. The five pieces are the tip of his right foot stretched upward; his left thigh, knee, and shin bent at an angle; his right arm reaching for the sky; his left hand barely exposed but grasping at something; and last, his face detailed with an open mouth and opened eyes as if he was in great pain. My first thought was this man – this giant – was taking his last breath lying on his back before the earth swallowed him forever, but then I saw the title of the piece. It was called, “The Awakening,” and after I did a little research, I realized the opposite of what I had initially thought was actually true. The man was not sinking; he was rising. This was not the man’s last breath; it was his first. He was desperately clawing his way to the surface. He was fighting to break away from the earth that once trapped him beneath.  He was free! He was finally free!

That is how the Israelites must have felt in our passage today. For forty years – an entire generation’s worth – the Israelites desperately fought their way through the wilderness. I imagine their struggle; I imagine their pain. I imagine how difficult the entire journey must have been for them. Their journey was definitely not without fault. There was whining and complaining. There were golden calves and other idols. There was war, disease, and death. And there was an unsatisfiable thirst and hunger manifested from the people’s distance from God. Their journey was rough. Their journey was painstakingly rough, but the Israelites had arrived. They had finally arrived. With the crossing of the Jordan River, the Israelites were now in the Promised Land. Sure, it was just barely inside of the Promised Land, but like the sculpture of the giant, this was their first breath of the promised air. They are out of the desert. They are out of the wilderness. They are now free in the Promised Land. 

In praise and thanksgiving, they then celebrated the Passover marking their arrival into the Promised Land. It was their celebration of being freed from their captivity in Egypt. And after the Passover, the manna that had rained from the heavens ceased. They were now surrounded by the produce of the land, and it was this food that would now provide them their nourishment. 

Promise after promise was fulfilled. The Israelites had made it through the wilderness. They had arrived into the Promised Land. They celebrated the Passover as a sign of their liberation from Egypt. And the manna ceased as the Israelites ate the produce of the land. Promise after promise, God had provided.

This is the message we need to remember in the season of Lent. As we experience of our own struggles or times of difficulty, we must remember God’s provision and God’s promises. This is especially relevant as each of us have experienced a season of death and darkness. Some of us are going through this season right now. These past few months have been difficult on us – painstakingly difficult. There seems to be this black cloud hanging over of us, and we are struggling to find even a glimpse of hope. Here we are, starving in the wilderness, struggling for that first breath of promise! We are crying out to God waiting for a sign to show – a sign of grace or reconciliation or love – we are crying out for a sign of provision!

But here is what we know – here is what we can take away from this passage – if God fulfilled the promises to the Israelites with abundant provision, then we can be certain God will fulfill the promises made to us. It took forty years – forty years! – as the Israelites wandered through the wilderness, but God still fulfilled God’s promises. A gift has been given to us: we don’t have to wait those forty years. We don’t even have to wait at all. Through the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, a covenant of grace was established with all of us: a covenant that is constantly renewed and restored with each of us on an individual basis with the passing of every second of time. The provision of God’s grace is so bright that even in our darkest times, the light will win. We can see the hope God has promised to us. This Lenten season I challenge you to find the hope around you. Look for God’s provision; rejoice in God’s promises!

This journey will be difficult, but we are fighters. We will make it through the wilderness and arrive in the Promised Land. We. Will. Survive. God’s provision is greater than what we have asked for; God’s fulfillment of promises is greater than what we have expected. That first breath of hope will be our awakening, and the pain we have endured will be nothing in comparison to the grace extended to us through Christ. We are not sinking; we are rising! Thanks be to God. Amen.

—————————————

            God of patient love and grace. Here we are as your people, wandering through our own wilderness of darkness. We ask that you shine your grace upon us as a light to guide our paths. Let us come to you, O God, as you have promised divine provision in your presence. We seek you in our hearts and in our minds and in our souls. All glory and honor belong to you. In Christ’s name we pray, Amen.

—————————————