Sunday, June 18th: "Along the Way: Camping"
First United Presbyterian Church
“Along the Way: Camping”
Rev. Amy Morgan
June 18, 2023
Exodus 19:2-8a
[The Israelites] journeyed from Rephidim, entered the wilderness of Sinai, and camped in the wilderness; Israel camped there in front of the mountain. 3 Then Moses went up to God; the Lord called to him from the mountain, “Thus you shall say to the house of Jacob and tell the Israelites: 4 ‘You have seen what I did to the Egyptians and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. 5 Now, therefore, if you obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. Indeed, the whole earth is mine, 6 but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.’ These are the words that you shall speak to the Israelites.”
7 So Moses went, summoned the elders of the people, and set before them all these words that the Lord had commanded him. 8 The people all answered as one, “Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do.”
There is a lot of uncertainty involved with camping.
First, there’s the travel to a usually somewhat remote or unfamiliar place. Anything can happen along the way, from sudden weather hazards to car trouble. Our recent camping trip to South Dakota included long stretches of pastureland without a gas station for miles, so we had to time our fill-ups well. And at one point, Google directed us onto a 40-mile stretch of dirt road in Wyoming. On other trips, we’ve found ourselves in places with no cell service and no map trying to find a campground after Google gave out on us. And once, I navigated us to the wrong campground that had a similar name to the one we were looking for. Camping puts us in touch with unknown territory and all the potential dangers and vulnerabilities that come with it.
Even when you arrive at your campsite, the uncertainties don’t end. There’s the search for water and restrooms and firewood. There’s inevitably something you forgot to pack. In the case of our recent trip, I forgot my toothbrush. You don’t know if your neighbors in the campground will be quiet or noisy. Weather is still an uncertainty, even with modern meteorology tools. For instance, if I’d known for certain that it was going to rain almost constantly for most of our camping trip in South Dakota, I may have opted to stay in a cute cozy cabin instead of a soggy tent.
And health and safety are always uncertainties, too. On our camping trips, we’ve had to deal with allergies, sunburns, blisters, and bites. No matter how much I stock our first aid kit, it seems that the one thing we end up needing is the one thing I didn’t think to bring.
And then there’s just the very temporariness of camping. Cooking over a fire, sleeping in a tent – everything about camping feels impermanent. When we’re “setting up camp,” we know it is for a short time. This is not our settled home. When you are camping, every arrival is a new beginning. Camping is not a practice in being settled. It’s just the opposite. Camping is the practice of living with the temporary, starting out on new adventures, exploring uncharted territory.
This is the uncertain and unsettled feeling the Israelites are carrying as they set up camp in front of Mt. Sinai. They have already experienced a lot of uncertainty since their dramatic and miraculous escape from Egypt. They’ve been traveling and camping in the wilderness for 50 days, according to tradition. This correlates with the time between the Passover Festival and the Festival of Pentecost, about 7 weeks. I’ve never been camping for quite that long, but we might imagine that the people were tired and dirty and frustrated and afraid. They had grumbled and argued with Moses and with God about the lack of food and water. They had been attacked by a local warlord. And they had so many personal disputes that Moses had to recruit help in settling all of them.
They finally make it to Mount Sinai, the mountain where Moses encountered God in a burning bush. In that encounter, God told Moses that it would be a sign for him and for the people that they would return and worship God on that mountain. Their arrival is the fulfillment of God’s promise, the assurance of God’s faithfulness to Israel.
In the Exodus narrative, this is the pinnacle moment. Exodus begins with God hearing the cry of Israel in slavery in Egypt. God brings them out of Egypt, bearing them on eagle’s wings and carrying them to this place of holy encounter. God has provided manna and quail for food, made bitter water sweet and brought water gushing forth from a rock. God has saved them and provided for them and led them with fire and cloud day and night.
The people of Israel are excited and relieved and ready to settle down. But this arrival is not the destination. It is a new beginning. God is going to bring them to the land promised to their ancestor, Abraham, a land flowing with milk and honey. The encounter with God at Mount Sinai, which occupies more than half the book of Exodus, establishes and defines God’s covenant relationship with Israel. The rest of the book is occupied with filling in the details of what that special and holy relationship will look like. God gives the people the law, a way of life that is meant to help them thrive in their new homeland, once they reach it. And the people get anxious and afraid and make a golden calf and worship it. There is a lot of back-and-forth, give and take, learning and growing, forgiving and hoping that happens on this months-long camping trip at Mount Sinai.
But it all begins with this affirmation from God: you shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. Indeed, the whole earth is mine, but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation. God re-commits to the relationship with Israel, and Israel responds by also re-committing to relationship with God: “Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do.”
Much is still uncertain and unsettled, but the relationship between God and God’s people is secure, committed enough to endure all the ups and downs that are to follow. Along the way, between slavery in Egypt and the land of promise, God and Israel confirm their covenant love for one another.
Whether or not you are going on a camping trip this summer, there is much in our lives that may feel uncertain, that seems to be in constant flux and in motion. We’re not sure what’s happening with the economy, whether we’ll have enough of whatever we need enough of. For once, we’re not praying for rain in Colorado, but perhaps we’ve now had too much of a good thing. There are wars and rumors of wars, and legal and political battles are being waged on the front pages of the newspapers. Some of you are adjusting to new living situations or wondering if a move is in your future. A lot feels unsettled in our lives and in the world.
Here in our church, we’re preparing for Sam to leave on his next adventure as we search for our next music director. We’ve got our first Art Hub Camp since the pandemic next week, and there are plenty of uncertainties that come with that, even as we’re excited for it. There are new folks visiting and participating in our community, which brings welcome and wonderful shifts, but also new surprises.
I don’t know about you, but ever since the pandemic hit and cancelled all our plans, I’ve come to hold things more lightly. Everything feels more temporary and fragile than it did before. This isn’t necessarily good or bad, but it does feel a bit less settled, a bit more like camping.
But it is precisely in these tenuous, transient times that God speaks into our uncertainty and reassures us of God’s commitment to us. It is precisely in those “camping” experiences that we are excited and awake to the fragility and beauty of life and can be open to God’s overwhelming love and grace. It is in these moments that we need to know that we are treasured by God and held in the security of covenant relationship.
But that covenant relationship invites a response from us. The law that God reveals to Moses outlines a way of life for Israel that will maintain that relationship and allow them to thrive. And, of course, they weren’t able to live into that law perfectly. But they did commit to trying. They did commit to the relationship, even if they failed at times to hold up their end of the covenant.
We still find ourselves enslaved to all kinds of things – ego and self-righteousness,
And when we receive that affirmation and reassurances, we can respond, as Israel did, with enthusiastic commitment, dedicating ourselves to God’s vision for our lives.
And, like Israel, we will certainly be less-than-perfect in fulfilling our commitments. (Golden calf, complaining, fear, etc.) We are still slaves to many things, and it will take the rest of our lives, camping from place to place, to continue forming and shaping us into the people who can truly commit to our relationship with God with anything like faithfulness.
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