Are we there yet?
Text: Exodus 17:1-7
Are we there yet?
I don’t know if there is a parent who has not heard this erupt out of the back seat of the car while on a long journey. I can’t help but laugh when I hear it come out of my daughter’s mouth. Even last week, when Sarah, Megan and I drove down to the shores of Lake Ontario to watch the rise of the so-called Supermoon… which is not more than a 25-30 minute drive from our house… We had barely turned onto the 407, the fastest possible route, when I heard “are we there yet?” from the back seat.
This was not a long drive by any stretch… so I have a great sympathy for all of you who made the trek south and back home with your families at March break. How many of you heard that question?
How did you feel when you heard it? Frustrated? I’ll bet. Did you laugh, because you remember saying that to your parents when you were the ones in the back seat? I know I do. Megan doesn’t appreciate it much, because she thinks we are laughing at her. Nope. We’re laughing at ourselves, and how much we see ourselves in her.
So here we are in the middle of Lent... well, almost the middle… we’re just on the edge of that hump, and we are probably asking “are we there yet?” After all, Easter is almost as late as it possibly can be. Contrast that to three years ago, when Easter was almost as early as it could possibly be. We are wondering when Easter will get here… when winter will FINALLY be over… “Are we there yet??”
And then there is this story from Exodus… where the first fifteen chapters tell the story of Moses saying to Pharaoh “Let my people go!!” But no sooner are the Hebrew people free, when they begin to complain, and to say amongst other things “Are we there yet??”
Granted, the story of Exodus is the longest “Road Trip” in the Bible. By Road Trip, I don’t mean length of journey… Abram had that covered. I mean the kind of Road Trip where everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. Again, I would imagine that all of us have our own “road trip” stories. But here, we have the Hebrews on the road for 40 years… They are wandering about an area smaller than southern Ontario. In terms of a straight distance, Egypt to the Promised Land was a nine-day walk, which included plenty of time to stop for breaks… Make what jokes you will about Moses being unwilling to ask for directions, but the people were getting frustrated.
They say “Are we there yet?” a few times… but it’s phrased more along the lines of “did you lead us out of Egypt so you could kill us?” A bit more dramatic, but it basically means the same thing. Earlier it was when they were cornered a the edge of the sea, and God carves a path for them. This time around, people begin to complain about being thirsty…
…Moses is also getting frustrated… because it seems that he can’t do anything right. He turns to God and says “what am I going to do with these people? They’re ready to kill me!” The miracle… the water from the rock… is what follows… but really, the true story is the level of distrust the people have in Moses… the distrust that they have in God’s promise of a future beyond their asking or imagining.
And going back to the beginning, it is very much a part of our human nature. From Eden, we don’t want to take responsibility for who we are, or for trusting God to lead us in otherwise unfamiliar territory. There is this want and need to go back to what we are comfortable with, no matter how bad for us it truly is. We would rather be slaves in Egypt, rather than free and on our way to the Promised Land. How often do we second-guess God’s promise to be there with us in our lives? How often do we call out from the back seat and say “are we there yet?”
These stories in Lent all reveal something about our own human nature. This one is about wanting to reverse course mid-stream when we get uncomfortable going down a road that we have never been on before. This one is about being comfortable in what we know, no matter how bad it really is for us, and the new path that God is always calling us to.
There is something that all three of the stories that we have heard so far this Lent. They are all Road Stories in their own way. Following Eden, the Man and the Woman are sent out to travel the world, Abram and Sarai are called to leave their homeland and families behind and go on a journey, and the Israelites are called out of slavery for a promise of a new life and new hope that is to come. This is a continuing trip, and yet all along the way, our own unwillingness to take that responsibility nearly derails it. God is the only one who remains faithful in the equation.
And we say, “Are we there yet?”
No. We’re not. And sometimes it’s easier to say that we want to go back to the way things were, then to forge ahead when our journey gets difficult… but going back is not an option. God is calling us forward… and not to go back. That is what this journey of faith is all about.
Imagine where we would be had the Israelites stayed in Egypt? Imagine where we would be if Abram had not gone on that journey. Where we would be if Jesus had never left Nazareth to teach the Kingdom of God? Then why do we think we can get away with either staying at home or worse yet, going back to the way things were?
That’s not what God was calling the Israelites to, and it’s not what God is calling us to today.
“Are we there yet?”
I’d like to turn this around a bit. I don’t think it’s fundamentally wrong to ask “are we there yet?” But it depends on how and why we are asking. I think it’s a very good question to ask ourselves because it keeps us honest about our relationship with God. But this is not a demanding kind of thing that we call out from the back seat. Asking “Are we there yet?” allows us to truly reflect on our journey in a positive way. But when we ask it, it is because we want to go forward and truly see where God is calling us to be.
Amen.
Are we there yet?
I don’t know if there is a parent who has not heard this erupt out of the back seat of the car while on a long journey. I can’t help but laugh when I hear it come out of my daughter’s mouth. Even last week, when Sarah, Megan and I drove down to the shores of Lake Ontario to watch the rise of the so-called Supermoon… which is not more than a 25-30 minute drive from our house… We had barely turned onto the 407, the fastest possible route, when I heard “are we there yet?” from the back seat.
This was not a long drive by any stretch… so I have a great sympathy for all of you who made the trek south and back home with your families at March break. How many of you heard that question?
How did you feel when you heard it? Frustrated? I’ll bet. Did you laugh, because you remember saying that to your parents when you were the ones in the back seat? I know I do. Megan doesn’t appreciate it much, because she thinks we are laughing at her. Nope. We’re laughing at ourselves, and how much we see ourselves in her.
So here we are in the middle of Lent... well, almost the middle… we’re just on the edge of that hump, and we are probably asking “are we there yet?” After all, Easter is almost as late as it possibly can be. Contrast that to three years ago, when Easter was almost as early as it could possibly be. We are wondering when Easter will get here… when winter will FINALLY be over… “Are we there yet??”
And then there is this story from Exodus… where the first fifteen chapters tell the story of Moses saying to Pharaoh “Let my people go!!” But no sooner are the Hebrew people free, when they begin to complain, and to say amongst other things “Are we there yet??”
Granted, the story of Exodus is the longest “Road Trip” in the Bible. By Road Trip, I don’t mean length of journey… Abram had that covered. I mean the kind of Road Trip where everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. Again, I would imagine that all of us have our own “road trip” stories. But here, we have the Hebrews on the road for 40 years… They are wandering about an area smaller than southern Ontario. In terms of a straight distance, Egypt to the Promised Land was a nine-day walk, which included plenty of time to stop for breaks… Make what jokes you will about Moses being unwilling to ask for directions, but the people were getting frustrated.
They say “Are we there yet?” a few times… but it’s phrased more along the lines of “did you lead us out of Egypt so you could kill us?” A bit more dramatic, but it basically means the same thing. Earlier it was when they were cornered a the edge of the sea, and God carves a path for them. This time around, people begin to complain about being thirsty…
…Moses is also getting frustrated… because it seems that he can’t do anything right. He turns to God and says “what am I going to do with these people? They’re ready to kill me!” The miracle… the water from the rock… is what follows… but really, the true story is the level of distrust the people have in Moses… the distrust that they have in God’s promise of a future beyond their asking or imagining.
And going back to the beginning, it is very much a part of our human nature. From Eden, we don’t want to take responsibility for who we are, or for trusting God to lead us in otherwise unfamiliar territory. There is this want and need to go back to what we are comfortable with, no matter how bad for us it truly is. We would rather be slaves in Egypt, rather than free and on our way to the Promised Land. How often do we second-guess God’s promise to be there with us in our lives? How often do we call out from the back seat and say “are we there yet?”
These stories in Lent all reveal something about our own human nature. This one is about wanting to reverse course mid-stream when we get uncomfortable going down a road that we have never been on before. This one is about being comfortable in what we know, no matter how bad it really is for us, and the new path that God is always calling us to.
There is something that all three of the stories that we have heard so far this Lent. They are all Road Stories in their own way. Following Eden, the Man and the Woman are sent out to travel the world, Abram and Sarai are called to leave their homeland and families behind and go on a journey, and the Israelites are called out of slavery for a promise of a new life and new hope that is to come. This is a continuing trip, and yet all along the way, our own unwillingness to take that responsibility nearly derails it. God is the only one who remains faithful in the equation.
And we say, “Are we there yet?”
No. We’re not. And sometimes it’s easier to say that we want to go back to the way things were, then to forge ahead when our journey gets difficult… but going back is not an option. God is calling us forward… and not to go back. That is what this journey of faith is all about.
Imagine where we would be had the Israelites stayed in Egypt? Imagine where we would be if Abram had not gone on that journey. Where we would be if Jesus had never left Nazareth to teach the Kingdom of God? Then why do we think we can get away with either staying at home or worse yet, going back to the way things were?
That’s not what God was calling the Israelites to, and it’s not what God is calling us to today.
“Are we there yet?”
I’d like to turn this around a bit. I don’t think it’s fundamentally wrong to ask “are we there yet?” But it depends on how and why we are asking. I think it’s a very good question to ask ourselves because it keeps us honest about our relationship with God. But this is not a demanding kind of thing that we call out from the back seat. Asking “Are we there yet?” allows us to truly reflect on our journey in a positive way. But when we ask it, it is because we want to go forward and truly see where God is calling us to be.
Amen.
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