It’s a bit
surprising, isn’t it? The people of Israel, God’s chosen people, have been out
of Egypt for less than two months. Already they’re complaining. Already they’ve
forgotten the agony and hardships of life under Pharaoh. Instead of celebrating
God’s deliverance, they’re dreaming of life back in Egypt—as if the supposedly
plentiful bread they ate by the fleshpots somehow balanced the back-breaking
labor they endured.
But that’s
not the surprising part, not really. If we’re honest, the Israelites’ response
is familiar. Abuse and oppression have a profound psychological effect on
victims, twisting their thoughts so that they have trouble seeing the
difference between freedom and slavery. We’ve seen the Israelites’ story on the
front pages of newspapers as the scandal of a certain Ravens football player
parades his wife’s own distorted view of reality for all to see.
No, the
surprising part of this story is not that the Israelites’ years of torment has
affected their collective psyche. The surprising part is that the Lord gives
the Israelites exactly what they ask for. The people ask for bread, and God
gives them bread. God never even chides the Israelites for their forgetfulness.
The Israelites complain, and God gives them what they want. Why?
You might
say that God is demonstrating his mercy or that God is showing divine patience
with his people. True enough, I’m sure, but I think something else, something
more specific, something even, perhaps, more profound is happening in Exodus
16. God seizes the opportunity Israel’s complaining presents to establish for
Israel a new and fundamental social reality: a new economy. Now, if you look up
the word “economy” in a dictionary, you’re likely to find something along the
lines of “the wealth and resources of a country or region” or “careful
management of available resources.” But it’s probably more helpful—and more
Biblical—to think of “economy” as the organization and regulation of the daily
affairs of a community.
For
decades, Israel’s life had been organized and regulated by the Egyptian
economy. Egypt’s economy was a labor economy, really a slave labor economy.
Laborers, against their will, were expected to contribute their work to
whatever projects Egypt’s Pharaoh deemed necessary or important. In exchange
for this work, Egypt gave the laborers an amount of food that might have been enough to live on. So you can see that, although there are some
real differences, the ancient Egyptian economy and the modern global economy
have a lot in common. The single most important characteristic of a labor
economy can be captured in one word: more. Everyone is trying to get more, all
the time. More work out of the laborers. More efficient work. More produced.
More stored up for pleasure, for bragging rights, or for rainy days. Even the
laborers find themselves desiring more: more rest, more food, more ways to
escape.
One of
God’s first acts in the wilderness is to cut short the Egyptian labor economy
of more. God does this through a miraculous gift: manna. Each morning, when the
Israelites wake up, they discover under the dew a layer of manna, a food with
amazing properties, a bread that could be baked or boiled. Nourishment for the
long journey. And the manna of the morning was complimented in the evening by
quail, meat to further sustain the Israelites. The manna, and the quail, are so
much more than a divine version of some international relief operation for
refugees. In giving the Israelites the manna, God institutes a new economy. Not
a labor economy. A Sabbath economy.
Sabbath is not
just the day of rest found in the Ten Commandments. Sabbath is how God intended
the world to function, right from the very beginning. The crowning moment of
creation is not the making of human beings in God’s image—important as that is.
But humanity’s creation on the sixth day awaits the fulfillment of creation on
the seventh day, the day when Scripture tells God himself rests. “On the
seventh day God finished the work he had done, and he rested on the seventh day
from all the work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and hallowed
it, because on it God rested from all the work that he had done in creation”
(Gen 2:2-3). This holy and blessed day, the seventh day, the Sabbath, is woven
into the very fabric of creation.
In giving
the Israelites manna, God says to his people, “I expect you to live according
to my Sabbath economy.” Consider six aspects of the Sabbath economy in Exodus
16:
·
One: There is manna for everyone.
·
Two: People collect manna based on their need.
Need a lot? Take a lot. Need a little? Take a little.
·
Three: There is manna for each day. The
Israelites only collect their daily bread.
·
Four: Collecting more manna than you need doesn’t do you any good. The stuff goes
bad—real bad, like, worms bad—overnight.
·
Five: There is a major exception to number four.
On the sixth day, the day before the Sabbath, you can collect extra, and it
won’t go bad.
·
Six: There is no manna to collect on the
Sabbath.
If “more” is what characterizes the Egyptian (and, really,
every) labor economy, “enough” is the word that captures God’s Sabbath economy.
There is enough manna for everyone, no matter how great or small the need.
There is enough manna to take a Sabbath away from collecting it. There is
enough—not too much, not more than is needed, just enough.
And the
Sabbath day itself—it’s not a day of solemn, intense reflection. It’s a day of
joy, of celebration. On the Sabbath day, the Israelites are called to enjoy the
“enough” God provides for them, to feast “enough” on the holy day, knowing that
there will be enough the next day, too,.
The manna
God provides the Israelites is a short-term solution, intended only for their
days in the wilderness. The Sabbath economy God intends to last. In Exodus,
Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy God establishes law after law that
reinforces the Sabbath economy: the year of jubilee, the prohibition of certain
kinds of work on the Sabbath, the care for widows and orphans, and the
insistence on leaving behind a portion of fields for gleaning by the poor. The
economy of the people of God is always to be a Sabbath economy. The Sabbath
economy continues in the New Testament; look at the sharing in the early church
in Acts 2. We even catch a glimpse of the Sabbath economy in Jesus’ parable
from this morning’s gospel lesson: each laborer, even the one who works only
one hour, receives enough from the master.
If “more”
is characteristic of every labor economy, “more” has become the cardinal virtue
in our own present economy. We are bombarded with more ways to pursue more:
More doing. More saving. More buying. More eating and drinking. Buying in bulk
so we get more for our dollar. Doing more for ourselves. Putting away more for
retirement. Giving more money to the government. Keeping more money for our own
pocketbooks. More, more, more, more, more. We have more “more” than just about
anybody could want. Yet when it comes time to give alms to the poor, to take
care of the needy in our community and our world, to pay our tithe to our Lord,
inevitably we hear, “There is not enough for that.” Ironically, the economy of
“more” is also the economy of “never enough.”
Friends, we
are about to celebrate Holy Communion. Holy Communion is our weekly reminder of
God’s Sabbath economy. Everyone who comes to this table receives what she or he
needs—nothing less, nothing more. Once we see that there is enough from God
here, we are free to discover that God expects us to keep his Sabbath
economy—and that God has given our church enough to meet our community’s needs.
Are we really going to keep living as if there was something more?
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