When we talk about the Israelites travelling to the promised land, there’s a hymn that’s a bit of an old favourite: Guide Me O Thou Great Redeemer. It used to be called Guide Me O Thou Great Jehovah. Either way, I never really understood it. It uses a lot of imagery from the story of the Israelites in the wilderness, but in the second verse, I’m not sure what the crystal fountain is, from whence the living waters flow. There’s no crystal fountain in that story. It’s quite confusing.
But more significantly, I don’t think of myself as a pilgrim through a barren land. As I journey through life, I find that more and more it is filled with richness and beauty. Then in the third verse: When I tread the verge of Jordan, bid my anxious fears subside; death of death and hell’s destruction, land me safe on Canaan’s side, I wonder if landing in Canaan meant to represent getting into heaven? I think this is about being close to death and asking to get into heaven.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s some wonderful imagery in this hymn. It pictures God as sustainer, provider, deliverer, my strength and my shield. All of these descriptions of God ring true for me in my own experience of God. But the overall tone of the hymn suggests that life is this horrible piece of garbage that with God’s help, we just have to get through in order to reach the paradise of heaven at the end. And that’s definitely not my experience.
My experience of life with God is filled with both ugliness but also sweetness, loss and grief but also joy and hope. There is great and awesome beauty to be found in this world: in the cosmos and in nature, in our relationships with family and neighbours, in the simple expressions of life. So I just don’t relate well to this hymn. But maybe that’s an indication of the disconnect between my story and the story on which this hymn is based. Maybe I don’t relate to this hymn because I don’t relate well to the plight of the Israelites. When we talk about today’s story (Exodus 12:1-14), we have to start by realising that our life definitely isn’t as unpleasant as it was for those Israelites living in slavery.
The thing about this story from today though is that when freedom came, they needed to be ready. They ate their Passover meal with their bags packed, with their shoes on their feet, a fork in one hand and a walking stick in the other. Well, they didn’t use forks, but you get the idea. This sacred meal is not designed to be a dining experience; it’s designed to be food on the go. And they were ready to go quickly because they knew that things needed to change. Life as a Hebrew slave in Egypt wasn’t good so when Moses tells them they need to be ready to move, they are.
I wonder if that’s the same for us today. We talked earlier in the service about the different types of slavery that exist in our world: oppressive employment situations, addiction, abusive relationships, financial crises, poor health, and so on and we start to wonder what freedom looks like in those circumstances. How quickly are we to turn towards freedom from those forms of slavery?
If we’re honest, I suspect we’re more like the Egyptians in the story; the status quo is generally good for us; we might not like it but we often benefit from the exploitation of the poor, whether it be through $2 T-shirts made in sweatshops or chocolate harvested by child labour. Like the Egyptians, we get a bit upset by protests and demonstrations that disrupt our day; and when there’s change suggested, we worry that our way of life might be under threat. I wonder if our reliance on our creature comforts is itself a form of slavery. I wonder if our
Maybe that’s why we’re less ready to embrace change. Maybe that’s why we’re hesitant about heading into a new direction. I know that I preach a lot about the kingdom of God, this vision that Jesus offers for the world could be like, but I have to question whether I’m willing to sacrifice any of my current comforts for the sake of that vision. Yes, we’re called into God’s vision for the world, but things aren’t too bad right now. Maybe I can kick my shoes off and just enjoy the status quo for a bit longer. The status quo is generally good for us, so when we’re offered the chance to make a difference, to help bring God’s vision to fruition, are we ready to travel?
For example, we’ve known about the threat of climate change for decades now but making real change could upset the status quo; it could upset our state’s mining interests and our state’s financial income, it might threaten the stability of our electricity supply, it might make some things more expensive. We don’t really know what the outcome will be, but we’d prefer not to take the risk because we’re generally happy with the status quo.
We’ve got the opportunity in a few weeks to enshrine a voice for those who traditionally have not been well heard; but we don’t know what that change will bring. We know it will upset the status quo, and generally we’re happy with the status quo.
When we look at forms of slavery like poverty, addiction, homelessness, domestic abuse, and so on, then freedom from those forms of slavery requires a major shake-up. It might mean putting less money into our military so that we can afford addiction programs, or increasing taxes to those of us who are well off in order to support those who are struggling, or increasing minimum working conditions which might increase our own cost of living. Freedom from slavery actually threatens our own comforts. And that might bring into light our own enslavement to those creature comforts.
When we have the opportunity to do something to help offer freedom to someone who is bound, or when we have the opportunity to free ourselves of enslavement, where are we at? God is calling into freedom and liberation. The question is: have we kicked our shoes off and settled in, enjoying how things are now; or are we ready to travel?
Amen.