A sermon on Exodus 17:1-7 & Matthew 21:23-32 by Nathan Nettleton
A video recording of the whole liturgy, including this sermon, is available here.
The people quarrelled with Moses, and said, “Give us water to drink.”
This was not just petulant whinging, despite the exasperated reply we heard from Moses in our first reading tonight. We’ve all heard stories of what happens if a car breaks down on a remote road in Central Australia and the occupants try to go for help on foot. It never ends well.
These people are walking through a hot dry desert, and they are out of water. That is immediately life-threatening. Even in pleasant conditions with no exertion, we can only survive without water for about 100 hours. Travelling on foot with significant luggage in extreme heat, and about seven hours is probably all most people could last without water.
The panicked question from the Hebrew people is entirely justified: “Is the Lord among us or not?” Because if the Lord has led us out here into the desert, then the Lord better come up with some water in the next few hours, or we’re all dead.
Moses is panicking too. “What am I going to do, Lord? These people are on the verge of stoning me.”
He is the leader who the people have followed into the desert. He is supposed to be God’s representative. But he doesn’t have any water, and he doesn’t have any answers. What happens next has a surprising connection with the special rite we will be observing after this sermon. Moses is still the leader, but he’s not going to be the whole answer.
When he cries out “What am I going to do, Lord?” the Lord’s answer isn’t, “Moses, you fix it, and here’s how.” Instead, the Lord says to Moses, “Go out in front of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you.” The Lord goes on to tell him which rock to strike with his stick to unleash a hidden spring of water, but before we get to that, let’s look at this first line of the instructions. There are two parts to it: firstly, “Go out in front of the people,” and then “take some of the elders of Israel with you.”
“Go out in front of the people” might not sound like that big a deal, but remember that this instruction is being given to a bloke who just said that those people are pretty much ready to stone him. Going out and standing in front of an angry mob who are spoiling to bash you to death is not a safe thing to do.
“And take some of the elders of Israel with you.” Safety in numbers? Probably not. In the face of thousands of panicking thirsty people looking for someone to blame, you’d need more than a handful of elders if you’re looking for bodyguards. So what are the elders going with him for?
Hebrew Bible scholar Anathea Portier-Young argues that “the elders carry with them their testimony to the past. They carry the trust and the hurt and the hopes of the people.” So they are more the representatives of the people than the protectors of Moses. And they are witnesses to what happens next.
The need for elders to step in and be present in a time of crisis can come for all sorts of reasons, most of them not nearly as critical as an entire people about to die of thirst. Our church’s long history has seen a few struggles and scandals. Stuff happens. We are all human and sometimes we misunderstand each other, hurt each other, attack each other. There can be failures of leadership. There can be failures among the people. And sometimes it starts with something entirely external going wrong, but people start panicking and pointing the finger at one another and before you know it, everything is going to shit. Moses’ fear of getting stoned to death was probably one of those.
He was the one in danger that time. But leaders can also be the danger. Serious clergy misconduct is all too common. Tonight’s gospel reading told of an encounter between Jesus and a group of prickly religious leaders who were questioning his authority. It was clear that they were much more interested in protecting their own status than in serving the people, and Jesus was scathing in his critique of them.
Leaders like me who have been around for ever and have decades of experience are far from immune to this. Sometimes those are precisely the things that can lead to arrogance and presumption, and can cause a congregation to overlook the warning signs. I don’t get a free pass. One of the reasons we value the role of our Visiting Pastoral Overseers is that a solo pastor like me who has built up trust over time is actually one of the identifiable risk categories, and our VPOs provide another layer of safety, accountability, and if necessary, intervention.
As important as that is, the Hebrew elders and our Visiting Pastoral Overseers do not exist only for interventions when things go wrong. We value them as companions on the journey in the normal course of events too. We welcome their insights, their encouragement, their experience, their presence. For a somewhat unconventional congregation like ours, there is always a danger of becoming a bit insular and disconnected from what is going on in the wider church. Welcoming wise voices from outside our own group helps keep us connected, informed, and accountable.
Those elders in our reading were there when Moses went out to face the people. They were there to accompany both Moses and the people as they went out in search of life-giving water. They didn’t provide the water. They didn’t fuel the people’s doubts about Moses’ competence or try to take credit for finding the water. We’re not told what they said, but they were there with the congregation, likely reassuring, encouraging, offering wisdom and counsel, modelling a willingness to trust God and believe that a wellspring would be provided, would be found.
There’s a humility in that which resonates with our Philippians reading. A humble servant leadership that is not seeking the glory. Not grasping at status or exploiting a position. But having the same mind that was in Christ, self-emptying, ready to serve, willing to be one with the people and to accompany them when needed. All of us are called to grow into that Christlike mindset, and wise elders willing to keep a bit of an eye on us and be companions on our journey will help us get there, help us find the place where the water of life springs forth.
“Is the Lord among us or not?” It is not hard to wonder that. We live in uncertain and perilous times, and the possibility of people not having access to enough drinking water is literally one of the perils facing our world. There are any number of others, and thirsting in a desert is a good metaphor for the feeling many of them leave us with. What lies ahead of us? Where are we to find a spring of life out here? “Is the Lord among us or not?”
Perhaps that’s not so new. Perhaps it’s been the case over and over down through the centuries. That’s why this image of God’s people trekking through the desert for forty years is such a perennial image of the journey of faith. Perhaps the question of whether the Lord is with us or not is an eternal human question.
Whatever the perils that lie before us in our given time, the story’s answer is yes, the Lord is among us, and yes, there is a wellspring of life to be found, even in the most unlikely looking place, a rock in the desert. But God doesn’t just bring water from the rock, perhaps because we’d have learned nothing and gone on to repeat the same panic in the next place. So instead, God sends wise and courageous elders, who will walk alongside us, accompanying us as we learn how and where to find water.
Like so many stories in the Bible, this one continues to be told because it continues to be true, true to who God is and how God works in the world among us. So tonight, we’re about to pause to recognise what God is doing among us and to honour two of the elders God has sent to walk alongside us in our search for living water.