What a story we have been given in our first reading from Numbers today. It is a story that profoundly resonates with me in this moment we find ourselves in the pandemic. The story takes place during that desert wilderness period, those forty years between their liberation from their slavery in Egypt and before they enter into the Promised Land. The Israelites have been wandering around for quite a while at this point and they find themselves kind of done with the whole experience. They’re tired of it. They are exhausted. They are weary, and so they find themselves complaining about the food. I don't think the food is the issue. I think it is a proxy for their greater feeling, their greater longing for things to be different. So they let Moses know they are not happy and they want things to be different. Perhaps because of their exhaustion and tiredness they can't imagine the future. They don’t say let's just get there already. They find themselves longing for the past. They are too tired to imagine what could be. Instead they say, let's go back. Let’s go back to that time we were enslaved, because at least then we had meat and fish and garlic and onions and leeks and melons and cucumbers. You can almost hear them salivate as they share the list of the foods that they are desiring. They want to enjoy life again, not just have a subsistence of manna that has been provided. That is what makes this story so much different than the last time we heard one of these complaining stories. The last such story we heard was early on. They didn't have water, so they complained and got water. They didn’t' have food, they complained, and they got manna. Now they are saying manna isn't good enough. We want more out of life than this. We want joy and pleasure, and there is none of that here for us. So they long for the past that really wasn't all that good. And yet, that is all they can see.
I find myself longing for things to be different. I have moments when I find myself done with this pandemic. Do you have moments like that? In my mind I know that even if I feel like I am done with the pandemic, Covid is not done with us. It's not going away, and I can't wish it away or pretend that it's gone. The consequences would be real. So here we are, tired and longing for something different. A few weeks ago I actually found myself longing for the past. Not pre-pandemic time, oddly enough, but I found myself longing for this past March when it seemed like the end was in sight. The issue around vaccines was not how do we convince people to get vaccinated. The issue was how do we get an appointment? How do you have the patience to wait you turn? It seemed like everybody wanted the vaccine. Give us a few more months and everyone was going to have it. The kids weren't eligible yet, but vaccinated people would surround the kids with all the immunity and keep them safe. I imagined a glorious summer and fall, something that felt nearly normal. I found myself longing for that moment.
And then, I found myself longing for the March before that, those early days of the pandemic when it was bad, of course, but at least then we had unity, we had creativity, and we had joy in our pandemic hobbies and the things we were experimenting with, the new technological solutions that we were trying out, those days when Zoom felt fun. Every attempt we made to make life more normal was interesting and neat. We tried, and I found myself longing for those days. Just like the Israelites I forgot about all the terrible things about those times. I forgot how far away we were from a solution, and how close we are right now. We really are close now, and yet it is still going to be several months. It will be 2022. Winter or spring 2022 is what health officials are talking about now.
After the Israelites complained to Moses, Moses complains to God. He says, God, am I their mother? Did I give birth to them? Did I nurse them? No--it's you. You did those things. God has an interesting response to this. God does not say, just suck it up, Moses. God does not say, you can do this. He does not say, OK, it's been long enough. Let's get this over fast and pretend that this time can just go away. God does not say, let's go to the past. I can take you back home. No. God says, you can do this, but we need to have networks of support. Moses, you can't carry this all on your own. You need people helping. You need people to support each other. It's not just about you, it's about the whole community coming together. The networks of support are going to help carry the people through this time until they get to the end.
That is the same thing that we need. We can't pretend the pandemic is over and shortchange this. We cannot go back. We can only keep moving forward, but in a way that supports one another. When was the last time you reached out to a friend? When was the last time you reached out to one of your fellow St. Mary's parishioners and checked in on them? I know I am doing it less, and I am receiving it less than I was six months ago. I think it comes from that exhaustion, the weariness. But it is that community support that is so critically important that can help strengthen us. It is that reaching out in care and compassion and love that is the very embodiment of God's dream, of God's vision of this world.
So, my friends, I encourage you to reach out to one another, to ask yourself who have I not heard from in a while, who do I miss from church, who do I miss among my friends, and give them a call or send them an email or write them a letter and tell them you are thinking of them. Check in and ask how they are doing, and express your empathy, your compassion, your love. And know that we will make it through this together. The end is much closer than the beginning. We will make it through this with God's help embodied in our care and love for one another.
AMEN.
