Moses Rocks

Exodus 17: 1-7

So they leave the Desert of Sin behind- but apparently only literally because they still don't have a whole lot of trust in God. When they camp at Rephidim, they're thirsty and there's no water- so they fall right back into whiney-mode.

They tell Moses to give them water. Moses says- "Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the LORD to the test?" It could be that Moses is already starting to think of himself a little too highly- to argue with me is the same as arguing with God- you see, I'm the spokesperson- and I'm pretty much in charge. I read this though to be pretty similar to last chapter's explanation which is exactly the opposite-

Why are you arguing with me? I'm not important- I'm not calling the shots- in fact when you complain about me, since I'm not in control, what you're actually doing is arguing with God- not such a smart idea.

But they keep grumbling- the usual "why did you bring us here to die?" only now they're even complaining about the lack of water for their livestock.

Moses is getting a little worried- he prays to God afraid that the people are getting ready to stone him. God tells him to take his staff that he used to strike the Nile. When you get to Horeb, I'll be there at the rock, strike it- and the people will have water.

So Moses does this- and it works. Moses, perhaps in an attempt to shame these annoying wanderers calls the place Massah (testing) and Meribah (quarreling) becuase of their testing of God- saying "Is the LORD with us or not?"

For me the lesson is God's patience. Here are a group of people that have been rescued and fed- they're being taken to a wondrous new land that's being given to them- and they whine, and complain, and wish they were back where they started.

At times I have moments like this- where I fantasize about captivity. Not literal shackles and chains- but a sanitized glorification of how wonderful some sin was. Oh, to be able to do that again. Remembering the pleasure, but conveniently omitting the pain, suffering and guilt. I belittle the deliverance and the promise of the land to come and even if only for a fleeting minute focus on the darkness that was- not as darkness, but the good ole days.

And God must feel the same way. What's wrong with you? I've delivered you- I've saved you- I've given you so much more- trust me.

And He's right (of course). And when rationality returns I remember those times more objectively and try to keep following- and even if I whine about being thirsty- I don't want those days of captivity to return.