Mind Your Manna, Exodus 16:2-15, 35, 9/24/23

Mind Your Manna

Exodus 16:2-15, 35

Rev. Dr. Rhonda Blevins

September 24, 2023

The whole congregation of the Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”

Then the Lord said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be twice as much as they gather on other days.” So Moses and Aaron said to all the Israelites, “In the evening you shall know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt, and in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard your complaining against the Lord. For what are we, that you complain against us?” And Moses said, “When the Lord gives you meat to eat in the evening and your fill of bread in the morning, because the Lord has heard the complaining that you utter against him—what are we? Your complaining is not against us but against the Lord.”

Then Moses said to Aaron, “Say to the whole congregation of the Israelites, ‘Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your complaining.’” And as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and said,  “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’”

In the evening quails came up and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to one another, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was. Moses said to them, “It is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat.

The Israelites ate manna forty years, until they came to a habitable land; they ate manna, until they came to the border of the land of Canaan.

______

During the bombing raids of World War II, thousands upon thousands of children were orphaned. Their parents, killed. Scared and alone, many of the children wandered the streets hungry for days on end. The luckiest of these children were picked up and taken to refugee camps. It wasn’t home, but at least there they would not starve. It is told that many of these little ones had trouble sleeping in the camps. Compassionate men and women tried everything they could think of to help them rest. Finally, someone came up with the idea to give each child a simple piece of bread to hold onto as they lay down to sleep. It worked. Knowing they would eat tomorrow alleviated their anxiety. Holding a piece of bread, the little ones could finally sleep.1 

 

Though most of us never experienced that kind of trauma at such a young age, most of us have suffered loss. Each time we face significant loss, we find ourselves emotionally lost, like little children wandering around looking for something to satisfy our longing. This loss takes many shapes and forms: the loss of someone dear, the loss of a dream, the loss of health, the loss of a job or career, the loss of a beloved pet, the loss of faith in God or someone once trusted, the loss of plans and routines, like what happened back in 2020 when COVID 19 foiled so many of our plans.

 

How do we cope with the inevitable losses life hoists upon us? Like little, orphaned children clinging to bread, we cling to that which makes us feel safe and secure, don’t we? It’s human nature to barricade or immunize ourselves against loss and insecurity, and so:  

 

·      We put money in the bank.  

·      We find ourselves a good, solid home and we make sure we stay on top of our mortgage payments and HOA fees.

·      We keep our pantry full of Campbell’s soup that we will never eat, but we know we can if the going gets tough.  

·      We cling to a routine or schedule that is tried and true.  

·      We bank on relationships—we surround ourselves with people who are faithful and trustworthy. 

 

When these things are threatened, our feelings of security and our very sense of well-being can be lost. We lose joy, we become anxious, and then what happens? We may start to grumble and complain. 

 

That’s exactly what’s happening at the beginning of our scripture text today. It has been quite a month for the children of Israel. After upwards of 430 years in captivity, slaves to the Pharaoh of Egypt, the Hebrew people finally make their escape. 2.4 plus million people, as well as great numbers of livestock. This is no quiet prison break. This is the population of Chicago moving out all at the same time. From Egypt God leads the Israelites into the wilderness with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. And when Pharaoh’s armies pursue them, God parts the waters of the Red Sea and they cross, walking not through the mud, but on dry land, with a wall of water on each side. Egypt’s armies perish in that same sea as they pursue the Hebrews. The Bible says that the people fear the Lord; they believe in the Lord. 

 

But it doesn’t take long for their belief to fail when their bellies begin to rumble. Three days after walking on dry land through the Red Sea—three days—and they’re ready to turn back. Maybe they’re out of beanie weenies, or their air mattresses have holes in them. Maybe they finished their last s’more and they’re just ready for a nice, warm shower and cable TV. “If we could just go back to being slaves in Egypt where our bellies were full. It’s your fault, Moses. We’d rather die as slaves with full stomachs than die free with hunger pains.” Grumble, grumble, grumble. Whine, whine, whine. Complain, complain, complain.

 

And who could blame them? Have you ever been hungry? Have you ever wondered when or if you’ll eat again? Who could blame them for feeling anxious? I doubt there’s anything more unsettling than being hungry, ravenous perhaps, without relief in sight. 

 

But here’s the good news. God hears. God hears their grumbling, their whining, and their complaining. Not only does God hear, but God cares. Not only does God hear, not only does God care, but God provides. 

 

The same God who led them into victory as a mighty warrior will now feed them like a loving mother. This is a side of God they’ve never seen. Maybe they fail to trust God simply because they don’t fully know God.

 

Maybe we fail to trust God because we don’t fully know God. 

 

God hears. God cares. God provides. For the Israelites, God’s provision comes in the form of quail in the evening and flaky stuff every morning. “What is it?” they ask. They’ve never seen anything quite like it. “It is the bread the Lord has given you to eat,” Moses affirms. It’s certainly not what the children of Israel expect, but it is everything the children of Israel need. Manna everywhere. Manna every day. Enough for everyone. But not enough to hoard. If you read a little further in the text, God tests their faithfulness. God tells them not to gather one more morsel than they need. They need to “mind their manna.” And wouldn’t you know it? Those who disobeyed and tried to hold on to some manna for the next day—let’s just say holy manna became holy maggot. 

 

What the children of Israel eventually learn in their 40 years in the desert—their 40 “wander” years between slavery and sovereignty, is that to know God is to trust God. 

·      God hears us just like God heard the Israelites.

·      God cares for us just like God cared for the Israelites.

·      God provides for us, just like God provided for the Israelites.

 

What God provides may not be what we expect. Indeed, it rarely is.

 

Nearly 1,500 years after these events chronicled in the book of Exodus, God would provide another unexpected “bread” for humanity.

 

A baby was born to a gentle carpenter and his virgin bride—Jesus of Nazareth. He wasn’t born in Nazareth, however. Jesus was born in an obscure village called Bethlehem. Do you know the literal meaning of the name “Bethlehem” in Hebrew? Bethlehem is literally, “House of Bread.” This child would grow up and show us the way of salvation. Jesus told his followers, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry.” (John 6:35 NIV)

 

Like manna from heaven for the Israelites in the desert, Christ is our spiritual manna. When we partake, our souls are filled, and we want no more. Christ satisfies the deep hunger of our spirits, providing purpose, fulfillment, and eternal life. How? This reality can’t be explained, only experienced. I’ve been at this life of faith for a while, now, and I feel like I’m just beginning to understand this.

 

Our faith in Christ is our daily bread, nourishing our souls for eternal significance.

 

And whenever we say the Lord’s prayer, we are reminded of this truth. “Give us this day our daily bread.” This prayer, and especially this line in the prayer, reminds us of the timeless wisdom in focusing on sufficiency over accumulation.

 

Do you remember what happened if the Israelites didn’t “mind their manna” and took more manna than what was needed for the day? It would spoil. Instead of “minding their manna” they would find themselves “minding their maggots.”

 

Like the Israelites commandment to only take manna enough for the day and no more, the Lord’s prayer, “Give us this day our daily bread,” reminds us to seek only what is necessary for the present day.

 

What’s the outcome of this prayer and practice—focusing on “daily bread”?

 

It fosters trust in God. It alleviates anxiety. It nurtures contentment. And the good Lord knows we could all use some of that!

 

Both the Israelites’ experience in the wilderness and the Lord’s prayer teach us the importance of living in the present, asking for our daily bread rather than amassing excess.

 

It’s not . . .

·      “Give us this day our weekly bread.”

·      “Give us this day our monthly bread.”

·      “Give us this day our yearly bread.”

·      “Give us enough bread in our 401k so that we can live to be 175.”

 

It’s “Give us this day our daily bread.”

 

It’s countercultural for sure. My apologies to the bankers and financial planners in our midst.

 

It’s “Give us this day our daily bread.”

 

How might our lives change if we could adopt this “daily bread” mindset?

 

I know when I think about whether I’ll have enough for retirement, or enough to put my boys through college, or enough to put a new roof on the house, I can grow anxious.

 

But when I shift focus to whether I’ll have enough to make it through the day? I’m good there!

 

We pray the Lord’s prayer regularly because this isn’t an idea to consider occasionally, it’s a mindset, a lifestyle we are called to adopt. This is what it means to “mind your manna.”

 

Do you have enough for today? Do you? Yes?

 

Then, dear child of God, you have enough.

 

Thanks be to God for God’s provision yesterday, today, and yes, for our tomorrows as well.

Rhonda Blevins