Third Sunday of Lent: Why is God doing this to us?

“In those days, in their thirst for water,

the people grumbled against Moses saying:

Why did you ever make us leave Egypt?

Was it just to have us die here of thirst…?

So Moses cried out to the Lord: What shall

I do with this people? A little more and they

will stone me…”  --Exodus 17:3-7

“Why did you ever make us leave Egypt…Was it just to have us die here of thirst?”  Sound familiar? Whenever I feel overwhelmed and helpless, exhausted and afraid, desperate, my prayer turns into something a lot like that of the Israelites in the desert.  Why did you do this, God? Why are you making my life so hard? I thought we were friends! What did I do to deserve this?  For me, this usually involves something to do with owning three cats.  So, when I was headed to the HEB Wednesday night to get paper towels (because one of the cats keeps peeing on counters and carpets and linoleum… as well as mail, magazines and tote bags!!!) I was cursing my pets, my prayer life, and wondering what I had done to offend God.

But… walking into the store, I learned firsthand the reality of desperation.  The pandemic known as the Coronavirus finally hit home.  The shelves of the store were almost completely empty. Unless you liked Peanut Butter Captain Crunch you were out of luck as far as cereal goes.  The only rice left was sushi.  Not a single bottle of laundry detergent to be had. Luckily, they still had plenty of paper towels. A big display right next to the front doors.  I wandered around looking for those few other items that I had been asked to pick up, and everywhere I looked were other people wandering with their carts, some of them overflowing with water and canned goods, and frozen pizzas, but most of them half empty like their eyes… Everywhere I looked there was that strange gaze: stunned, afraid, desperate. What’s happening? Why? Who can we blame?

We don’t like feeling vulnerable, none of us do. We don’t like feeling unsafe.  Humans like things to be predictable; it makes us feel safe.  We like to know what comes next, so we don’t have to worry about it.  And yet, if we stay safe, if we hide from danger, avoid being vulnerable, if we remain locked in our secure little risk-free (and germ-free) boxes, if we stay in Egypt… what happens? Our horizons shrink, our view of life becomes smaller and smaller until it gets almost microscopic.  Instead of worrying about our neighbor or about our friends (or even our family) we begin to see only ourselves, our fears, our discomforts, everything is measured by what it will mean to us, what affect it will have on “Me.”

But as I was standing in stunned disbelief looking at the desolate pasta aisle, I had an experience that I think speaks to this question of “Why did you ever make us leave Egypt?”   Standing there, staring at the barren shelves, gazing in disbelief at the remaining three jars of lo-fat Alfredo, and the one remaining box pasta, some kind of whole-wheat “healthy” rotini—I think I felt like the Israelites. How had this happened? Why would God do this? How come He wasn’t protecting me?  It was a pretty sad moment, but then a woman approached with her full cart and paused. For a moment, I thought she was about to speak to me—she was standing so close. But instead, she reached past me and put a box of spaghetti back on the shelf. Nothing special. Just plain old regular spaghetti. And then she walked away.  I picked up the box and called out, “Thank you.” She turned and smiled and said something like, “I didn’t really need it,” and disappeared.

And so, I come back to the question: Why did you ever make us leave Egypt? Was it just to have us die in the desert?  What if the answer was yes? What if God said, That is precisely what I am doing?  Only… you won’t die.

Last week at Mass we heard the reading about Abram’s call (Genesis 12:1-4). Abram is living a comfortable life in Haran, when God comes to him and says: Pack up. I want you leave this place and go somewhere far away from your father’s house, your family, your comfort zone, your security. Don’t ask questions. I will show you where to go. It is a foreign land where you will live among strangers and probably feel very vulnerable.  But, that is how I am going to make you into a great nation, that is how I am going to make of you a blessing to all who bless you.

What if the key to becoming who we were meant to be, who we were made to be, a blessing to the world, is to be vulnerable?  What if the real key to becoming fully alive, to becoming a blessing is first to step out of our comfort zone, out of our security blankets and take a risk, take a chance, become vulnerable. Begin to feel thirsty.

I was feeling a wave of panic come over me as I stood there in that crazy madhouse of a grocery store staring at empty shelves and zombie apocalypse shoppers and suddenly a person stopped and put back something she didn’t need.  I wonder if it was because she saw a person in need. Because she saw someone who looked vulnerable, someone thirsting.  I wonder.  And I wonder, who was really blessed in that moment.  I received what? Perhaps a small act of charity from a stranger. A simple box of spaghetti.  But, thinking about that smile as she turned the corner, I wonder what she received? Perhaps something much better… The blessing that comes from helping someone in need.

The other part of this passage that interests me is that little detail of Moses going to God, practically in despair.

What shall I do with this people? A little longer and they will stone me!

Clearly, he too feels vulnerable, helpless, desperate. And yet, in his helplessness he turns to God and through God’s grace blesses the people who do not die of thirst, but receive water from the rock and –in the end—they too become a blessing, become a light for the world; a chosen people, set aside—vulnerable, conquered, exiled, yes!  But in exile, in captivity, in loss they are the bearers of God’s word, they are the chosen people, God’s beloved! 

Think about that during this time of fear and anxiety and empty grocery shelves. This “pandemic.” How God’s love and calling is so often revealed in suffering and a sense of helplessness.  Think about how God may be calling us through this hardship. Through your sacrifice and discomfort and even your fear and loss, how is God calling us to witness His love? It may be something as simple as letting someone else know you are afraid, so that they can be blessed by offering comfort and aid. Or perhaps you will be the one who puts a box of spaghetti back on the shelf so that it will be there for someone else.

Remember, we are here because God has put us here, in this time, this place, this life. We were made for this.  And we are never alone. On His way to Calvary, Jesus walks this path with us.  We are loved.  So, do not be afraid, be vulnerable.