Is God With You, Or Not?
Sermon
Trouble on the Mountain
Sermons For The Middle Third Of The Pentecost Season
A mortician tells of an incident on the way to a funeral one day. He pulled up to a curb, the rear wheel of his car dropped off the edge of the road and fell into a drain, and the car was stuck. Since he was already late for the funeral he rushed over to the trunk of the car, got out the jack, and started to raise the wheel of the car out of the drain. The motion of the jack caused the trunk lid to fall down and hit him squarely on the head. It was getting really late now, so he decided he'd better call the funeral home and tell them to start the funeral services without him. Blood was running down his face, dripping onto his suit, and he knew he'd have to change his clothes. He stepped into the nearest building and asked the office receptionist to call the mortuary for him. She looked up at the man and said, "Buddy, you're hurt, but you aren't hurt that bad!"
So with us. Things may be terrible for us, but never as bad as we think. Here, in this text, it's the same old story; the adults are acting like spoiled children again. The people are griping, making demands, asking questions, and blaming someone other than themselves.
The Jewish nation is camping at Rephidim. There is no water, and they want water! They demand of Moses, "Give us water," and accuse him, "You brought us out of Egypt. Why? To kill us with thirst?" Moses, too, is caught on a bad day; he is crotchety, cranky, and cantankerous, and, in response to their complaints, asked, "Why are you putting God to the test?" Then he turns and frantically prays to God, "What am I going to do with these people? They are ready to stone me to death!"
God, as usual, was merciful, gracious, and good to them and gave them water in the wilderness and not the destruction they deserved. God always deserves better than we give him and we deserve worse than we get.
But this narrative opens a good question. In their urgency for water, they inquired, "Is the Lord with us, or not?" We ask the same question yet today. How pertinent it is. Hundreds of times, in difficult situations, we've said, "Where is God? Is he here or not?"
There are ways to find if God is with you or not.
"Easy" Doesn't Mean God is Present
Americans really like things easy. Camping used to mean really "roughing it." Gone now are the sleeping bags on stony ground, tents that must be staked and set up each night, and taken down and folded the next morning, making your own fire out of wood you gathered yourself. Now "roughing it" is finding a place to park your RV, a plug-in for your refrigerated drinks, your Beauty Rest mattress beds, and your electric stove in your twenty-five foot motor home. To others, roughing it is running out of ice cubes or cutting filet mignon with a dull knife.
We like things easy so well we even equate it with divine favor. How often I've heard someone say, "Well, I know this is God's will. I know God is with me, for everything worked out so easily, without a single hitch. That has to be God!" It is true God may very well be with us when things go well, but it is certainly not an accurate gauge for testing his Presence and his approval. Smooth sailing does not always mean God is present, nor that he is pleased.
Many of the people of God have faced this dilemma and asked this same question. They have seen the apparent prosperity and carefree lives of the wicked and echoed the question of Jeremiah, "Why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive?" (Jeremiah 12:1) Job, too, questioned God about this. Job asked, "Why do the wicked live, reach old age, and grow mighty in power?" He then goes on to complain about how easy it is for the wicked: their houses are safe, their livestock is healthy, they spend their days in prosperity, and go to the grave in peace. (Job 21:7-13)
Just because fortune seems to smile upon you, because you have health, enough money, lots of friends, and a pleasant life, is no barometer for testing the Presence of God. God, who is loving and merciful to all, sends rain on the just and unjust. He waters the garden of the atheist, Madelyn Murray O'Hare, as freely as that of Billy Graham. God's approval cannot be measured by the outer circumstances.
It must have seemed relatively easy for David to seduce Bathsheba and have her husband, Uriah, murdered, but God certainly did not approve of those actions. It doesn't seem Judas had too much trouble placing the kiss of betrayal on the cheek of Jesus, but God did not bless him for it. Just because Ahab found it a simple matter to sabotage the character of Naboth and take over his vineyard, did not mean God was pleased with his underhanded dealing. Because we do wrong and seem to "get by with it" does not mean God puts his approbation upon it. Rather, God knows character is often wrought through adversity, so having it too easy is not always good for us. Norman Rockwell, the great American artist, said, "When I want a dog model, I always go to the city pound. Dogs that have taken a beating from life have character."
"Difficult" Doesn't Mean God is Absent
The Israelites are hungry now, and their first thought (after griping about it) is to question whether they can have trouble like this and God still be with them. Why is it we automatically assume, when we have any problem or trouble at all, God has left us and we are now all alone? But just as "easy" doesn't necessarily indicate God's Presence, neither does difficulty suggest his absence.
The New Testament tells of a time when Jesus, having preached and taught by the sea, told his disciples to get in a boat and go to the other side. You'd think obeying exactly what he said would be an absolute guarantee of a safe and easy crossing, wouldn't you? The opposite was true; a storm arose, the boat was tossed every which way, they feared for their lives, and were terrified. They were doing just what they had been told and still they had trouble.
Or think of Joseph. He was thrust into prison for a crime he did not commit; that difficult situation lasted for two long years, but did not mean God had forsaken him. His dilemma was simply a means to an end. God allowed it so he could use Joseph to save his own family and a whole nation from starvation.
Job had trouble that would overwhelm most of us; his wife told him to curse God and kill himself. His children were killed, his herds and flocks were destroyed, he had boils all over his body, and, to add to all of this, he had to endure friends who kept asking him what sin he had committed. It certainly sounds like God was absent, doesn't it? But Job found out that wasn't true at all.
Paul's shipwreck at sea looked a lot like God had left him for good. He was promised he would go to Rome and proclaim the Gospel, but now he is in a storm that lasts for fourteen days and God doesn't seem to be around anywhere - until he sent an angel and told Paul it would still get worse. The ship would go down, but God would save his life and the lives of those on board.
Jesus' life on earth was about as hard as it could be, yet God was with him every moment. Jesus, hanging on a cross, dying for sins he did not commit, knew first-hand the worst kind of difficulty and death. He even cried out, "My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Did his crucifixion mean God's absence or abandonment? Never! He found, three days later, God was close enough to him to give him a glorious resurrection!
Our knee-jerk reaction to trouble - a flat tire, loss of a job, sickness, death, loss of money or material possessions, a tornado or hurricane - is usually to ask, "Has God left me?"
We make the mistake of judging everything by the outer facts. No matter what our trouble is, we wonder; "Is God gone? Why? Did I displease him? Why am I being punished? Why me, Lord? Has God left me?"
My mother was something of a saint. I suppose she had the usual human frailties we all have, but somehow my prevailing memory of her is one of love for all of us children, her love for Christ and the church, and her love of the church hymns. She sang them all day long as she worked around the house. I know hundreds of them, not because I recall consciously learning them, but from hearing mother sing them from morning to night. Then cancer struck her body, and, after a time, her voice grew hoarse and she could no longer sing. I prayed and prayed that she would be healed. I begged God, I promised him things, and even bargained with him, but her suffering got worse and the disease continued to ravage her body. I recall visiting her in the state cancer hospital. There she was with other victims of the same disease, only in the ward where she was placed, there were horrible signs of ugly disfigurement, the stench was overpowering, and the hopelessness was evident on nearly every face. I couldn't stand to see my mother, sick as she was, but not disfigured in any way, surrounded by all that ugliness, so one day, in anger at the injustice of it all, I stormed into her doctor's office and demanded, "Why? Why don't you take my mother out of that place? It's too horrible, too unpleasant for her. She deserves better!" I still, as though it were yesterday, recall the doctor shaking his head, and speaking kindly to me as though I were a child, "Don't you understand? Your mother is not there because she deserves to be, but because we care for all those other patients, too. She does them so much good. Her spirit, her hopefulness, her kindness makes it bearable for all those around her. We wish we had someone like her for every ward in this hospital!" Did my mother's difficulty mean God had left her? Of course not! And if I could ask her today, "Mother, did you mind? Did God desert you in your trouble?" From the portals of heaven's other side she would answer, "It was all right, child. God does all things well. And he was with me, even there!" She lived out the truth of the great Isaac Watts hymn she used to love so well and sang;
Am I a soldier of the cross? A foll'wer of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause Or blush to speak His name?
Must I be carried to the skies On flow'ry beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize And sailed through bloody seas?
And the answer:
Sure I must fight if I would reign - Increase my courage, Lord!
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain, Supported by thy Word.
Life, even for the Christian, has its share of difficulty, but it doesn't mean God is gone! Even preachers don't have a bed of roses all the time. (Can you believe that?) The great George Whitefield spent a total of two years at sea, traveling thirteen times between Britain and America. Often he preached fifty or sixty hours a week (and you thought I was long-winded). Always there was physical discomfort, and danger, but never the absence of God.
The frontier Methodist preachers went through storms, wind, hail, snow, and rain on a horse. They lay out all night, wet, weary, hungry, and often cold. Or they slept in dirty cabins, on earthen floors, and proclaimed the Gospel message, "Behold, the Lamb of God." Hard, difficult, and arduous lives they lived, but that didn't mean God was gone.
Sometimes I ask God to forgive me when the work of the ministry gets long, tiring, exhausting, and difficult, and I complain. I'm reminded that I ride in a comfortable car, instead of exposed to the elements on horseback. I sleep in a motel instead of under the stars. I go to churches where people are clean, receptive to the Word, feed me well (often too well), and work with good pastors who serve Christ and his church faithfully, often against long odds, and still keep the faith. But still, I sometimes find it hard; someone tells me right to my face they don't believe women should preach. Some motels have sagging mattresses that put kinks in my already-bad back, and are downright dirty. I don't like living out of a suitcase all the time. I don't make much money. I'm rarely home on my birthday or wedding anniversary. And I despise, absolutely abhor being separated from my John! Difficulty? Yes, at least some, but God never promised me a rose garden. Does that mean God is absent? No, no, a thousand times no! He is always there, and the tough parts of the work have nothing to do with his presence or his absence.
The Promise of God is the Guarantee of His Presence
Well, if "easy" doesn't mean, necessarily his presence, and "hard" doesn't mean his absence, how then do I know if God has left me or not? Is God with you, or not?
God had told the nation of Israel he would be with them. He gave them, beginning with Abraham, a promise, "I will make of thee a great nation." Then he saved them from the famine by directing them to Egypt so that Joseph (through his trouble, mind you) could be the means of saving their lives from starvation. And now, because of Egyptian persecution, under a Pharaoh who didn't know Joseph, He is delivering them from the bondage of the enemy. He has already opened the waters of the Red Sea to give them safe passage across. He gave them quails and manna in the wilderness to sustain them. Now, in this text, he gives them water from the rock, but the question is age-old, trouble comes and they cry out, "Where is God? Has God left us? Is he with us or not?" The guarantee of his presence was his promise. God had said, "I have seen how cruelly my people are being treated in Egypt; I have heard them cry out to be rescued from their slave-drivers. I know all about their sufferings, so I have come down to rescue them."
That's all you ever need to be sure. If you have the promise of God, you need nothing else. God always keeps his Word, and his promise is the certainty of his presence. Jesus has already told us, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." He has said, "Lo, I am with you always." These are not idle words. These promises are like solid rock beneath us. And we can manage almost any difficulty, as long as we are confident that God is with us!
Yes, it's true, my mother suffered, and lingered, and she could no longer sing the hymns she loved, but God was there all the time. In the early evening, before she died at dawn the next morning, we heard what sounded like music coming from her room. We thought she might have turned the radio on, but when my sisters, Ruth and Marge, and I tiptoed to her doorway, we found mother, with her head raised on two pillows, singing again! I think I will never hear such simple, sweet music again this side of heaven. The songs she sang were "Whispering Hope," "Rock of Ages," and "In the Sweet By and By." Did God leave her in her dying hour? Does he ever leave us? No, God keeps his promises and when he says he will walk with us through the "valley of the shadow of death," he does just that.
A little boy was looking at a very graphic picture of the dying Jesus on the cross. It showed, in gory detail, the agony of the crucified Christ. Finally, the child looked up to heaven and said, "God, if you'd been there, it would never have happened!" But God was there, and will be there! That's a promise, it is his promise to us.
Let me remind you that Christ's very name promises his presence. One of his best names is Emmanuel, which means "God with us."
A Bahamian priest tells the story of a two-story house that caught fire. The family, father, mother, and several children, was on their way out of the burning building when, suddenly, the smallest boy became terrified, tore away from his mother, and ran back upstairs. His father, outside, shouted to him, "Jump, son, jump! I'll catch you!" The boy cried back to his father, "But daddy, I can't see you!" "I know," his father called, "I know, but I can see you!" It may be a hard, difficult road you travel just now. You can't see anything but darkness, and you can't find God at all. Your problems blot God from your view. Remember, he sees you, he sees you!
God is With You All the Way!
A missionary was coming home on a big ocean liner. As they neared the shore, there were crowds of people waving banners, shouts of welcome, and celebration for the returning. Some were friends, others were family, but there was not a single soul in that milling, thronging crowd who had come to meet the old warrior of the cross who had spent his life in a foreign land. He had told the story of Christ to thousands of the lost, he had buried two sons in that soil, his wife had sickened and died of a fever in there, and now here he was - tired, worn-out, poor, and weak with fatigue and old age. He looked for someone, just one, to meet him as they docked, but not a soul was there. He looked up to God and said, "Father, why is there no one to greet me as I return? Don't you care that I am old and lonely? Doesn't it mean anything at all that I have served Thee faithfully all these years?" And the voice of God whispered to the missionary, "But son, you're not home yet, you're not home yet!"
Neither are we. We'll work with good days and bad days, easy times and hard times, joy and grief, sickness and health, bane and blessing. But we will be Home one day. What kind of glorious welcome do you suppose he has prepared for those who, down here, walked by faith, and not by sight?
Has God left you? Of course not! His promise means his presence.
Proper 17 (August 28--September 3)
Ordinary Time 22
Exodus 19:1-9
God Is Into Birds!
John and I are getting into birds! We work out of the mountains of western North Carolina during the summer months. One of our favorite pastimes, when we are at home, is to watch the birds that come to our deck which overlooks the mountains. There are ruby-throated hummingbirds (sometimes as many as sixteen of them), which come to guzzle the red-colored, sugar-water that I keep in feeders for them under the eave of the house. At another feeder, filled with sunflower seeds, we are visited by the white-breasted nuthatch, black-capped chickadee, tufted titmouse, cardinal, rufus-sided towhee, rose-breasted grosbeak, American goldfinch, purple finch, and even an occasional robin and blue jay.
We are only novices in recognizing the bird species, but God is an expert ornithologist. He is really into birds! He created them and put them in his book. The Holy Spirit is represented in Scripture by the dove. The Psalmist speaks of the sparrow finding a house and the swallow a nest. Jesus wept over the city of Jerusalem and said "like a hen gathers her chicks under her wing, so he would have liked to have gathered them." Jesus reminded us a sparrow does not fall without the Father's knowing concern. The prophet Isaiah spoke of the vultures, and the wise man of the Song of Solomon, in his poem of love, spoke of the voice of the turtledove. Noah used the raven and the dove as instruments to measure the water level before leaving the ark. Elijah, the prophet, was fed by ravens. Peter was brought to repentance by hearing the cock crow. Job reminds us the hawk does not fly by its own wisdom. The book of Lamentations speaks of the ostrich in the wilderness. Solomon had peacocks brought to him from Tarshish. Leviticus names the birds the Jews were not to use for food: osprey, vulture, owl, night hawk, cormorant, swan, and the pelican. The Psalmist tells us the stork uses the fir tree for a home, and there is the great bird of our text - the eagle! The eagle is mentioned more than any other bird in the Bible, with the possible exception of the dove. The eagle appears for the first time here in our text in Exodus 19, occurs again and again in Scripture, and finally, in the book of Revelation, the last book, it is found at least twice.
Dr. Jimmy Buskirk and I were speakers for the same Laity Weekend at Lake Junaluska in North Carolina a few years ago. He told the delightful story of a young man who was taking a college course in ornithology. He was not particularly interested in birds, but because he had heard it was a snap course which would require little or no study, he took the class. When the time came for the final exam he sat down at his desk with the other students. The professor handed out the test - only one page. The student looked at it, and gasped in despair. The entire page was covered with birds - shown from the knees down! The exam required identification of each of these birds in order to pass the course. Realizing he couldn't name a single one of them, the student, angered and frustrated, wadded up the exam page, threw it into the wastebasket and prepared to stalk out of the room. The professor had been watching him, and called out, "Young man, come here! How dare you treat my test that way! Who are you? What's your name?" The student abruptly hiked his pants up to his knees, and said, "Oh, yeah, you tell me!"
How interesting that God would use the eagle when he begins to talk with Moses and his people about the Covenant relationship they will enjoy with him under the law. God said, "... I carried you as an eagle carries her young on her wings, and brought you here to me."
The Wings of God are Strong
From ancient times the eagle has been regarded as a symbol of courage and power because of the altitude at which it flies. The strength it displays in flight is remarkable.
God had this kind of strength in mind for us when, in Isaiah, he said, "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles." (Isaiah 40:31)
Yes, the wings of God are very strong. The golden eagle has been seen carrying off a new-born lamb. This King of Birds is huge, capable of catching and lifting monkeys and wild pigs. God, the Divine Eagle, is strong enough to care for you and me. The mighty Creator of this vast universe has wings strong enough to save you - from your fears, from your present trouble, from your weakness, from yourself, and from your sins. All of us have sins which enslave us, that hold us captive in weakness. But this God, who majors in strength, bursts asunder the chains of our bondage. So strong are the wings of our Eagle-God that even his name carries deliverance for us. One of Charles Wesley's greatest hymns says:
Jesus! the name high over all -
In hell, or earth, or sky;
Angels and men before it fall,
And devils fear and fly.
The strong wings of God are visibly portrayed in the arms of the cross of his Son. Those crossbeams reach from high heaven to the depths of earth with power enough to save us all. Nurtured within that saving power, we live redeemed and free, above all sin and its tenacious power over us.
How mighty are the wings of God! Not only strong enough to save, but powerful enough to make us strong, too. His patient dealing with us vitalizes us and makes strength of our weakness, puts fiber into our backbone, and vigor into our inner being. In these moving words of our text, God tells of the relationship of his chosen people to himself. He reminds the Jews: "I carried you as an eagle carries her young on her wings, and brought you here to me."
The "Song of Moses" in Deuteronomy (32:10-12) uses the same metaphor. In that eloquent passage is pictured the Eagle-Father, beginning with us as mere eaglets (babes, new to the walk of faith). The eagle teaches its young to fly on their own. The parent pushes the baby bird out of the nest and the little creature tumbles helplessly through the air, plummeting to earth and certain death. But then, just in time, the parent-eagle swoops under its young, catches the bird on its own strong, spreading wings, and bears it aloft again on sturdy pinions to try once more to fly. God, who is majestic in power and might, teaches us that he accommodates himself to our weakness
and frailty, bearing us up on his own sturdy strength. Someone has beautifully stated, "God never puts a burden on you without first putting his own arm underneath you."
That's why we love to know of his strong wings about us. A west Texas town had no weather channel on TV, so a tornado sneaked up on the town. Someone prayed, in panic, as the tornado approached, "Lord Jesus, help us! And don't send no angels cause this is no time for the boys!" We need strong wings, and that is exactly what God offers to us. Paul might have had this in mind when he said, "When I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:10)
We learn the grace of God is all we need; his power is greatest when we are weak. How marvelously reassuring to know the strong wings of God are ever hovering over us to meet us at our point of need.
The Wings of God are Swift
We can live in unworried security because we know the wings of God are not only strong, but also swift. Eagles are known for their rapidity of flight. It is said of Saul and Jonathan, "they were swifter than eagles." (1 Samuel 1:23) The eagle is perhaps the noblest-looking creature that flies. Its flight is majestic when it soars or swoops.
Often we think God is slow in coming to our aid, in answering our prayer, in solving our problem. We think he is more like a turtle than an eagle. The Psalmist had a clear vision of God whose help is never slow. He said, "God shall help her, and that right early." (Psalm 46:5) Never fear: not only is it never too soon for God, it is also never too late for him.
We sometimes use the phrase "eagle-eyed," denoting a person who misses nothing that goes on about him. Our swift-winged God has an eagle-eye to meet our needs as well. He sees our tears, he observes the problem, he is acutely aware of all that goes on in our little world. An eagle has wondrous eyesight and observers have calculated that a bald eagle saw a small object on the water from a distance of three miles! With a swift, sweeping flight it careened through space to pluck the object from the sea.
We can better handle the emergencies of this life if we know rapid service is right around the corner. On a certain children's TV program, the announcer asked a little boy what he wanted to be when he grew up. "I want to be a wild animal trainer," said the child, loudly and clearly into the microphone. "And then I'll have lots of wild lions and tigers and leopards," he continued boldly. "And then I'll walk into the cage with them and ..." Then the picture he had painted for himself grew scary and he added softly, "But, of course, I'll have my mother with me." If we didn't have God to come swiftly to our aid, our fears would get the better of us. From heaven's distance he clearly sees our need, and with speed to put the feathered species to shame, he descends in expeditious efficiency to help us. So swift is he, that often our prayers are heard even before we give voice to them. He promised us, through his prophet, "Before they call, I will answer, and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." (Isaiah 65:24)
If God were not swift, we'd surely paint ourselves into a corner. A friend may say to us, "Now be sure and let me know if I can help you." God is better than that. Often you don't even need to apply for his help. He's there before you open your mouth - and that's really fast!
The Wings of God are Broad
The wings of God are not only strong, and swift, but they are also broad. Ezekial speaks of "... a great eagle with great wings." (17:3) The wingspread of the bald eagle is from six to eight feet. God's wings are so broad and so all-inclusive that he can take us all in. He even cares for us whether we care for him or not.
The Covenant relationship into which God is entering with his people in this text is rather selective. The senior party to the Covenant is God; the nation of Israel is the other party to the contract. It's like an insurance policy that has partial coverage. The contract here doesn't include the other nations, just the Hebrews.
When I was a child, we lived, for a time, on a little farm in the Ozarks of Missouri. My mother would place fifteen or sixteen eggs under an old setting hen for her to hatch. In due time, we would have all those little chicks running around all over the place. When it would begin to storm, with thunder crashing and lightning flashing, the old hen would begin to cluck to her chicks to come to her for safety. Or, if a fox or some other predator would stray into her domain, again she would cluck frantically for her chicks to run to her for cover. She would hover down on the ground, spread her wings, and the baby chicks would run under her wings and hide until the storm or the danger was past. But, as they grew older, they couldn't all get under her wings. Her wings simply were not broad enough to span her growing family.
The wings of God are broader than that - broad enough to take in the whole nation under his Covenant. How safe the Jews must have felt to know they had been selected for acceptance and protection under the Divine wings. Then, in the New Testment, God expanded the Covenant. With the coming of Christ, the coverage increased greatly. With the New Covenant being ushered in, the wings of God now encompass all people everywhere that will accept his protection. No one is exempt. No one is excluded. What had been a covenant for a nation is now a covenant for the world! Anyone - everyone - can now flee to the broad eagle-wings of a saving, accepting God and be safe. A great line from Charles Wesley's beloved, "Jesus Lover of My Soul," says, "Cover my defenseless head With the shadow of Thy wing."
John and I recently had the experience of thinking we had full auto insurance coverage, only to find that when a driver with no insurance at all hit our car and wrecked it, our coverage had not been properly transferred by our agent to include the second car. That could never happen with God. There is no mistake, no fine print to default anyone who seeks the shelter of God's wings: the rich and the poor, the young and the old, the bond and the free, the Jew and the Gentile - all are covered! How broad then is the expanse of God's wings? It is wider than the spread of the heavens, broader than the sea; it covers farther than from east to west, or north to south. It includes men and women of every race and every clime. There is no place God will not come looking for you; in heaven or hell, earth or sky, or any address in-between. That's broad coverage!
Aren't you glad that God is into birds? The Omnipotent Ornithologist uses the eloquent figure of eagle's wings to define his relationship to his people. No wonder we are comforted and reassured by William O. Cushing's hymn of trust:
Under his wings lam safely abiding, Tho the night deepens and teinpests are wild;
Still I can trust him - I know he will keep me, he has redeemed me and I am his child.
Under his wings, under his wings, Who from his love can sever?
Under his wings my soul shall abide, Safely abide forever."
So with us. Things may be terrible for us, but never as bad as we think. Here, in this text, it's the same old story; the adults are acting like spoiled children again. The people are griping, making demands, asking questions, and blaming someone other than themselves.
The Jewish nation is camping at Rephidim. There is no water, and they want water! They demand of Moses, "Give us water," and accuse him, "You brought us out of Egypt. Why? To kill us with thirst?" Moses, too, is caught on a bad day; he is crotchety, cranky, and cantankerous, and, in response to their complaints, asked, "Why are you putting God to the test?" Then he turns and frantically prays to God, "What am I going to do with these people? They are ready to stone me to death!"
God, as usual, was merciful, gracious, and good to them and gave them water in the wilderness and not the destruction they deserved. God always deserves better than we give him and we deserve worse than we get.
But this narrative opens a good question. In their urgency for water, they inquired, "Is the Lord with us, or not?" We ask the same question yet today. How pertinent it is. Hundreds of times, in difficult situations, we've said, "Where is God? Is he here or not?"
There are ways to find if God is with you or not.
"Easy" Doesn't Mean God is Present
Americans really like things easy. Camping used to mean really "roughing it." Gone now are the sleeping bags on stony ground, tents that must be staked and set up each night, and taken down and folded the next morning, making your own fire out of wood you gathered yourself. Now "roughing it" is finding a place to park your RV, a plug-in for your refrigerated drinks, your Beauty Rest mattress beds, and your electric stove in your twenty-five foot motor home. To others, roughing it is running out of ice cubes or cutting filet mignon with a dull knife.
We like things easy so well we even equate it with divine favor. How often I've heard someone say, "Well, I know this is God's will. I know God is with me, for everything worked out so easily, without a single hitch. That has to be God!" It is true God may very well be with us when things go well, but it is certainly not an accurate gauge for testing his Presence and his approval. Smooth sailing does not always mean God is present, nor that he is pleased.
Many of the people of God have faced this dilemma and asked this same question. They have seen the apparent prosperity and carefree lives of the wicked and echoed the question of Jeremiah, "Why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all who are treacherous thrive?" (Jeremiah 12:1) Job, too, questioned God about this. Job asked, "Why do the wicked live, reach old age, and grow mighty in power?" He then goes on to complain about how easy it is for the wicked: their houses are safe, their livestock is healthy, they spend their days in prosperity, and go to the grave in peace. (Job 21:7-13)
Just because fortune seems to smile upon you, because you have health, enough money, lots of friends, and a pleasant life, is no barometer for testing the Presence of God. God, who is loving and merciful to all, sends rain on the just and unjust. He waters the garden of the atheist, Madelyn Murray O'Hare, as freely as that of Billy Graham. God's approval cannot be measured by the outer circumstances.
It must have seemed relatively easy for David to seduce Bathsheba and have her husband, Uriah, murdered, but God certainly did not approve of those actions. It doesn't seem Judas had too much trouble placing the kiss of betrayal on the cheek of Jesus, but God did not bless him for it. Just because Ahab found it a simple matter to sabotage the character of Naboth and take over his vineyard, did not mean God was pleased with his underhanded dealing. Because we do wrong and seem to "get by with it" does not mean God puts his approbation upon it. Rather, God knows character is often wrought through adversity, so having it too easy is not always good for us. Norman Rockwell, the great American artist, said, "When I want a dog model, I always go to the city pound. Dogs that have taken a beating from life have character."
"Difficult" Doesn't Mean God is Absent
The Israelites are hungry now, and their first thought (after griping about it) is to question whether they can have trouble like this and God still be with them. Why is it we automatically assume, when we have any problem or trouble at all, God has left us and we are now all alone? But just as "easy" doesn't necessarily indicate God's Presence, neither does difficulty suggest his absence.
The New Testament tells of a time when Jesus, having preached and taught by the sea, told his disciples to get in a boat and go to the other side. You'd think obeying exactly what he said would be an absolute guarantee of a safe and easy crossing, wouldn't you? The opposite was true; a storm arose, the boat was tossed every which way, they feared for their lives, and were terrified. They were doing just what they had been told and still they had trouble.
Or think of Joseph. He was thrust into prison for a crime he did not commit; that difficult situation lasted for two long years, but did not mean God had forsaken him. His dilemma was simply a means to an end. God allowed it so he could use Joseph to save his own family and a whole nation from starvation.
Job had trouble that would overwhelm most of us; his wife told him to curse God and kill himself. His children were killed, his herds and flocks were destroyed, he had boils all over his body, and, to add to all of this, he had to endure friends who kept asking him what sin he had committed. It certainly sounds like God was absent, doesn't it? But Job found out that wasn't true at all.
Paul's shipwreck at sea looked a lot like God had left him for good. He was promised he would go to Rome and proclaim the Gospel, but now he is in a storm that lasts for fourteen days and God doesn't seem to be around anywhere - until he sent an angel and told Paul it would still get worse. The ship would go down, but God would save his life and the lives of those on board.
Jesus' life on earth was about as hard as it could be, yet God was with him every moment. Jesus, hanging on a cross, dying for sins he did not commit, knew first-hand the worst kind of difficulty and death. He even cried out, "My God, why hast thou forsaken me?" Did his crucifixion mean God's absence or abandonment? Never! He found, three days later, God was close enough to him to give him a glorious resurrection!
Our knee-jerk reaction to trouble - a flat tire, loss of a job, sickness, death, loss of money or material possessions, a tornado or hurricane - is usually to ask, "Has God left me?"
We make the mistake of judging everything by the outer facts. No matter what our trouble is, we wonder; "Is God gone? Why? Did I displease him? Why am I being punished? Why me, Lord? Has God left me?"
My mother was something of a saint. I suppose she had the usual human frailties we all have, but somehow my prevailing memory of her is one of love for all of us children, her love for Christ and the church, and her love of the church hymns. She sang them all day long as she worked around the house. I know hundreds of them, not because I recall consciously learning them, but from hearing mother sing them from morning to night. Then cancer struck her body, and, after a time, her voice grew hoarse and she could no longer sing. I prayed and prayed that she would be healed. I begged God, I promised him things, and even bargained with him, but her suffering got worse and the disease continued to ravage her body. I recall visiting her in the state cancer hospital. There she was with other victims of the same disease, only in the ward where she was placed, there were horrible signs of ugly disfigurement, the stench was overpowering, and the hopelessness was evident on nearly every face. I couldn't stand to see my mother, sick as she was, but not disfigured in any way, surrounded by all that ugliness, so one day, in anger at the injustice of it all, I stormed into her doctor's office and demanded, "Why? Why don't you take my mother out of that place? It's too horrible, too unpleasant for her. She deserves better!" I still, as though it were yesterday, recall the doctor shaking his head, and speaking kindly to me as though I were a child, "Don't you understand? Your mother is not there because she deserves to be, but because we care for all those other patients, too. She does them so much good. Her spirit, her hopefulness, her kindness makes it bearable for all those around her. We wish we had someone like her for every ward in this hospital!" Did my mother's difficulty mean God had left her? Of course not! And if I could ask her today, "Mother, did you mind? Did God desert you in your trouble?" From the portals of heaven's other side she would answer, "It was all right, child. God does all things well. And he was with me, even there!" She lived out the truth of the great Isaac Watts hymn she used to love so well and sang;
Am I a soldier of the cross? A foll'wer of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause Or blush to speak His name?
Must I be carried to the skies On flow'ry beds of ease,
While others fought to win the prize And sailed through bloody seas?
And the answer:
Sure I must fight if I would reign - Increase my courage, Lord!
I'll bear the toil, endure the pain, Supported by thy Word.
Life, even for the Christian, has its share of difficulty, but it doesn't mean God is gone! Even preachers don't have a bed of roses all the time. (Can you believe that?) The great George Whitefield spent a total of two years at sea, traveling thirteen times between Britain and America. Often he preached fifty or sixty hours a week (and you thought I was long-winded). Always there was physical discomfort, and danger, but never the absence of God.
The frontier Methodist preachers went through storms, wind, hail, snow, and rain on a horse. They lay out all night, wet, weary, hungry, and often cold. Or they slept in dirty cabins, on earthen floors, and proclaimed the Gospel message, "Behold, the Lamb of God." Hard, difficult, and arduous lives they lived, but that didn't mean God was gone.
Sometimes I ask God to forgive me when the work of the ministry gets long, tiring, exhausting, and difficult, and I complain. I'm reminded that I ride in a comfortable car, instead of exposed to the elements on horseback. I sleep in a motel instead of under the stars. I go to churches where people are clean, receptive to the Word, feed me well (often too well), and work with good pastors who serve Christ and his church faithfully, often against long odds, and still keep the faith. But still, I sometimes find it hard; someone tells me right to my face they don't believe women should preach. Some motels have sagging mattresses that put kinks in my already-bad back, and are downright dirty. I don't like living out of a suitcase all the time. I don't make much money. I'm rarely home on my birthday or wedding anniversary. And I despise, absolutely abhor being separated from my John! Difficulty? Yes, at least some, but God never promised me a rose garden. Does that mean God is absent? No, no, a thousand times no! He is always there, and the tough parts of the work have nothing to do with his presence or his absence.
The Promise of God is the Guarantee of His Presence
Well, if "easy" doesn't mean, necessarily his presence, and "hard" doesn't mean his absence, how then do I know if God has left me or not? Is God with you, or not?
God had told the nation of Israel he would be with them. He gave them, beginning with Abraham, a promise, "I will make of thee a great nation." Then he saved them from the famine by directing them to Egypt so that Joseph (through his trouble, mind you) could be the means of saving their lives from starvation. And now, because of Egyptian persecution, under a Pharaoh who didn't know Joseph, He is delivering them from the bondage of the enemy. He has already opened the waters of the Red Sea to give them safe passage across. He gave them quails and manna in the wilderness to sustain them. Now, in this text, he gives them water from the rock, but the question is age-old, trouble comes and they cry out, "Where is God? Has God left us? Is he with us or not?" The guarantee of his presence was his promise. God had said, "I have seen how cruelly my people are being treated in Egypt; I have heard them cry out to be rescued from their slave-drivers. I know all about their sufferings, so I have come down to rescue them."
That's all you ever need to be sure. If you have the promise of God, you need nothing else. God always keeps his Word, and his promise is the certainty of his presence. Jesus has already told us, "I will never leave you nor forsake you." He has said, "Lo, I am with you always." These are not idle words. These promises are like solid rock beneath us. And we can manage almost any difficulty, as long as we are confident that God is with us!
Yes, it's true, my mother suffered, and lingered, and she could no longer sing the hymns she loved, but God was there all the time. In the early evening, before she died at dawn the next morning, we heard what sounded like music coming from her room. We thought she might have turned the radio on, but when my sisters, Ruth and Marge, and I tiptoed to her doorway, we found mother, with her head raised on two pillows, singing again! I think I will never hear such simple, sweet music again this side of heaven. The songs she sang were "Whispering Hope," "Rock of Ages," and "In the Sweet By and By." Did God leave her in her dying hour? Does he ever leave us? No, God keeps his promises and when he says he will walk with us through the "valley of the shadow of death," he does just that.
A little boy was looking at a very graphic picture of the dying Jesus on the cross. It showed, in gory detail, the agony of the crucified Christ. Finally, the child looked up to heaven and said, "God, if you'd been there, it would never have happened!" But God was there, and will be there! That's a promise, it is his promise to us.
Let me remind you that Christ's very name promises his presence. One of his best names is Emmanuel, which means "God with us."
A Bahamian priest tells the story of a two-story house that caught fire. The family, father, mother, and several children, was on their way out of the burning building when, suddenly, the smallest boy became terrified, tore away from his mother, and ran back upstairs. His father, outside, shouted to him, "Jump, son, jump! I'll catch you!" The boy cried back to his father, "But daddy, I can't see you!" "I know," his father called, "I know, but I can see you!" It may be a hard, difficult road you travel just now. You can't see anything but darkness, and you can't find God at all. Your problems blot God from your view. Remember, he sees you, he sees you!
God is With You All the Way!
A missionary was coming home on a big ocean liner. As they neared the shore, there were crowds of people waving banners, shouts of welcome, and celebration for the returning. Some were friends, others were family, but there was not a single soul in that milling, thronging crowd who had come to meet the old warrior of the cross who had spent his life in a foreign land. He had told the story of Christ to thousands of the lost, he had buried two sons in that soil, his wife had sickened and died of a fever in there, and now here he was - tired, worn-out, poor, and weak with fatigue and old age. He looked for someone, just one, to meet him as they docked, but not a soul was there. He looked up to God and said, "Father, why is there no one to greet me as I return? Don't you care that I am old and lonely? Doesn't it mean anything at all that I have served Thee faithfully all these years?" And the voice of God whispered to the missionary, "But son, you're not home yet, you're not home yet!"
Neither are we. We'll work with good days and bad days, easy times and hard times, joy and grief, sickness and health, bane and blessing. But we will be Home one day. What kind of glorious welcome do you suppose he has prepared for those who, down here, walked by faith, and not by sight?
Has God left you? Of course not! His promise means his presence.
Proper 17 (August 28--September 3)
Ordinary Time 22
Exodus 19:1-9
God Is Into Birds!
John and I are getting into birds! We work out of the mountains of western North Carolina during the summer months. One of our favorite pastimes, when we are at home, is to watch the birds that come to our deck which overlooks the mountains. There are ruby-throated hummingbirds (sometimes as many as sixteen of them), which come to guzzle the red-colored, sugar-water that I keep in feeders for them under the eave of the house. At another feeder, filled with sunflower seeds, we are visited by the white-breasted nuthatch, black-capped chickadee, tufted titmouse, cardinal, rufus-sided towhee, rose-breasted grosbeak, American goldfinch, purple finch, and even an occasional robin and blue jay.
We are only novices in recognizing the bird species, but God is an expert ornithologist. He is really into birds! He created them and put them in his book. The Holy Spirit is represented in Scripture by the dove. The Psalmist speaks of the sparrow finding a house and the swallow a nest. Jesus wept over the city of Jerusalem and said "like a hen gathers her chicks under her wing, so he would have liked to have gathered them." Jesus reminded us a sparrow does not fall without the Father's knowing concern. The prophet Isaiah spoke of the vultures, and the wise man of the Song of Solomon, in his poem of love, spoke of the voice of the turtledove. Noah used the raven and the dove as instruments to measure the water level before leaving the ark. Elijah, the prophet, was fed by ravens. Peter was brought to repentance by hearing the cock crow. Job reminds us the hawk does not fly by its own wisdom. The book of Lamentations speaks of the ostrich in the wilderness. Solomon had peacocks brought to him from Tarshish. Leviticus names the birds the Jews were not to use for food: osprey, vulture, owl, night hawk, cormorant, swan, and the pelican. The Psalmist tells us the stork uses the fir tree for a home, and there is the great bird of our text - the eagle! The eagle is mentioned more than any other bird in the Bible, with the possible exception of the dove. The eagle appears for the first time here in our text in Exodus 19, occurs again and again in Scripture, and finally, in the book of Revelation, the last book, it is found at least twice.
Dr. Jimmy Buskirk and I were speakers for the same Laity Weekend at Lake Junaluska in North Carolina a few years ago. He told the delightful story of a young man who was taking a college course in ornithology. He was not particularly interested in birds, but because he had heard it was a snap course which would require little or no study, he took the class. When the time came for the final exam he sat down at his desk with the other students. The professor handed out the test - only one page. The student looked at it, and gasped in despair. The entire page was covered with birds - shown from the knees down! The exam required identification of each of these birds in order to pass the course. Realizing he couldn't name a single one of them, the student, angered and frustrated, wadded up the exam page, threw it into the wastebasket and prepared to stalk out of the room. The professor had been watching him, and called out, "Young man, come here! How dare you treat my test that way! Who are you? What's your name?" The student abruptly hiked his pants up to his knees, and said, "Oh, yeah, you tell me!"
How interesting that God would use the eagle when he begins to talk with Moses and his people about the Covenant relationship they will enjoy with him under the law. God said, "... I carried you as an eagle carries her young on her wings, and brought you here to me."
The Wings of God are Strong
From ancient times the eagle has been regarded as a symbol of courage and power because of the altitude at which it flies. The strength it displays in flight is remarkable.
God had this kind of strength in mind for us when, in Isaiah, he said, "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles." (Isaiah 40:31)
Yes, the wings of God are very strong. The golden eagle has been seen carrying off a new-born lamb. This King of Birds is huge, capable of catching and lifting monkeys and wild pigs. God, the Divine Eagle, is strong enough to care for you and me. The mighty Creator of this vast universe has wings strong enough to save you - from your fears, from your present trouble, from your weakness, from yourself, and from your sins. All of us have sins which enslave us, that hold us captive in weakness. But this God, who majors in strength, bursts asunder the chains of our bondage. So strong are the wings of our Eagle-God that even his name carries deliverance for us. One of Charles Wesley's greatest hymns says:
Jesus! the name high over all -
In hell, or earth, or sky;
Angels and men before it fall,
And devils fear and fly.
The strong wings of God are visibly portrayed in the arms of the cross of his Son. Those crossbeams reach from high heaven to the depths of earth with power enough to save us all. Nurtured within that saving power, we live redeemed and free, above all sin and its tenacious power over us.
How mighty are the wings of God! Not only strong enough to save, but powerful enough to make us strong, too. His patient dealing with us vitalizes us and makes strength of our weakness, puts fiber into our backbone, and vigor into our inner being. In these moving words of our text, God tells of the relationship of his chosen people to himself. He reminds the Jews: "I carried you as an eagle carries her young on her wings, and brought you here to me."
The "Song of Moses" in Deuteronomy (32:10-12) uses the same metaphor. In that eloquent passage is pictured the Eagle-Father, beginning with us as mere eaglets (babes, new to the walk of faith). The eagle teaches its young to fly on their own. The parent pushes the baby bird out of the nest and the little creature tumbles helplessly through the air, plummeting to earth and certain death. But then, just in time, the parent-eagle swoops under its young, catches the bird on its own strong, spreading wings, and bears it aloft again on sturdy pinions to try once more to fly. God, who is majestic in power and might, teaches us that he accommodates himself to our weakness
and frailty, bearing us up on his own sturdy strength. Someone has beautifully stated, "God never puts a burden on you without first putting his own arm underneath you."
That's why we love to know of his strong wings about us. A west Texas town had no weather channel on TV, so a tornado sneaked up on the town. Someone prayed, in panic, as the tornado approached, "Lord Jesus, help us! And don't send no angels cause this is no time for the boys!" We need strong wings, and that is exactly what God offers to us. Paul might have had this in mind when he said, "When I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:10)
We learn the grace of God is all we need; his power is greatest when we are weak. How marvelously reassuring to know the strong wings of God are ever hovering over us to meet us at our point of need.
The Wings of God are Swift
We can live in unworried security because we know the wings of God are not only strong, but also swift. Eagles are known for their rapidity of flight. It is said of Saul and Jonathan, "they were swifter than eagles." (1 Samuel 1:23) The eagle is perhaps the noblest-looking creature that flies. Its flight is majestic when it soars or swoops.
Often we think God is slow in coming to our aid, in answering our prayer, in solving our problem. We think he is more like a turtle than an eagle. The Psalmist had a clear vision of God whose help is never slow. He said, "God shall help her, and that right early." (Psalm 46:5) Never fear: not only is it never too soon for God, it is also never too late for him.
We sometimes use the phrase "eagle-eyed," denoting a person who misses nothing that goes on about him. Our swift-winged God has an eagle-eye to meet our needs as well. He sees our tears, he observes the problem, he is acutely aware of all that goes on in our little world. An eagle has wondrous eyesight and observers have calculated that a bald eagle saw a small object on the water from a distance of three miles! With a swift, sweeping flight it careened through space to pluck the object from the sea.
We can better handle the emergencies of this life if we know rapid service is right around the corner. On a certain children's TV program, the announcer asked a little boy what he wanted to be when he grew up. "I want to be a wild animal trainer," said the child, loudly and clearly into the microphone. "And then I'll have lots of wild lions and tigers and leopards," he continued boldly. "And then I'll walk into the cage with them and ..." Then the picture he had painted for himself grew scary and he added softly, "But, of course, I'll have my mother with me." If we didn't have God to come swiftly to our aid, our fears would get the better of us. From heaven's distance he clearly sees our need, and with speed to put the feathered species to shame, he descends in expeditious efficiency to help us. So swift is he, that often our prayers are heard even before we give voice to them. He promised us, through his prophet, "Before they call, I will answer, and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." (Isaiah 65:24)
If God were not swift, we'd surely paint ourselves into a corner. A friend may say to us, "Now be sure and let me know if I can help you." God is better than that. Often you don't even need to apply for his help. He's there before you open your mouth - and that's really fast!
The Wings of God are Broad
The wings of God are not only strong, and swift, but they are also broad. Ezekial speaks of "... a great eagle with great wings." (17:3) The wingspread of the bald eagle is from six to eight feet. God's wings are so broad and so all-inclusive that he can take us all in. He even cares for us whether we care for him or not.
The Covenant relationship into which God is entering with his people in this text is rather selective. The senior party to the Covenant is God; the nation of Israel is the other party to the contract. It's like an insurance policy that has partial coverage. The contract here doesn't include the other nations, just the Hebrews.
When I was a child, we lived, for a time, on a little farm in the Ozarks of Missouri. My mother would place fifteen or sixteen eggs under an old setting hen for her to hatch. In due time, we would have all those little chicks running around all over the place. When it would begin to storm, with thunder crashing and lightning flashing, the old hen would begin to cluck to her chicks to come to her for safety. Or, if a fox or some other predator would stray into her domain, again she would cluck frantically for her chicks to run to her for cover. She would hover down on the ground, spread her wings, and the baby chicks would run under her wings and hide until the storm or the danger was past. But, as they grew older, they couldn't all get under her wings. Her wings simply were not broad enough to span her growing family.
The wings of God are broader than that - broad enough to take in the whole nation under his Covenant. How safe the Jews must have felt to know they had been selected for acceptance and protection under the Divine wings. Then, in the New Testment, God expanded the Covenant. With the coming of Christ, the coverage increased greatly. With the New Covenant being ushered in, the wings of God now encompass all people everywhere that will accept his protection. No one is exempt. No one is excluded. What had been a covenant for a nation is now a covenant for the world! Anyone - everyone - can now flee to the broad eagle-wings of a saving, accepting God and be safe. A great line from Charles Wesley's beloved, "Jesus Lover of My Soul," says, "Cover my defenseless head With the shadow of Thy wing."
John and I recently had the experience of thinking we had full auto insurance coverage, only to find that when a driver with no insurance at all hit our car and wrecked it, our coverage had not been properly transferred by our agent to include the second car. That could never happen with God. There is no mistake, no fine print to default anyone who seeks the shelter of God's wings: the rich and the poor, the young and the old, the bond and the free, the Jew and the Gentile - all are covered! How broad then is the expanse of God's wings? It is wider than the spread of the heavens, broader than the sea; it covers farther than from east to west, or north to south. It includes men and women of every race and every clime. There is no place God will not come looking for you; in heaven or hell, earth or sky, or any address in-between. That's broad coverage!
Aren't you glad that God is into birds? The Omnipotent Ornithologist uses the eloquent figure of eagle's wings to define his relationship to his people. No wonder we are comforted and reassured by William O. Cushing's hymn of trust:
Under his wings lam safely abiding, Tho the night deepens and teinpests are wild;
Still I can trust him - I know he will keep me, he has redeemed me and I am his child.
Under his wings, under his wings, Who from his love can sever?
Under his wings my soul shall abide, Safely abide forever."

