Last week the Old Testament lectionary readings centered on the story
of Moses. Something struck me when hearing how Moses laid aside his
princely privileges (or had them laid aside for him) so that he might
abide in the wilderness, tending sheep, raising a family, learning
about the ways of God from his father-in-law. He was placed into exile.
God uses the same device in the lives of other great people told
about in scripture. Consider Abraham, told by God to leave Ur, to
sojourn in a foreign land. Joseph, ripped away from his family to
become a slave, a prisoner, until rising to second in command of Egypt
and saving his people from extinction. David? Remember all of those
years running from Saul? Yeah, those must have been comfy-cozie times.
I'm sure he looked back on those days and just yearned for their
return! How about Jonah? Elijah? Elisha? And pick your prophet! How
about the ladies, then? Esther, forced to leave the comforts of home
and subject herself to the king so that she might be ready to plead for
her people. Ruth? She cast her lot with Naomi and left her land and
her people, thereby becoming, after marriage to Boaz, an ancestor of
the Messiah. Mary: forced to journey to Bethlehem and then to Egypt.
So many of these stories mirror the story of Christ who laid aside
the glory of heaven, his own glory and the outward cloak of
recognizable deity so that He might dwell in exile in order to save His
people. His very own creation became his wilderness, his slavery, his
prison, his hide-out cave, his belly of the whale, his foreign land.
But he was sent to do the will of his Father.
I think about my own life, so much that made me comfortable left
behind. Big house, nice neighborhood, kids with good friendships,
family close by. It was a good life and there was nothing wrong with
it. But one day I prayed, "God, I want to know who you really are. Not
just who I want you to be." That was about seven or so years ago, and
man, I just didn't expect to end up in Lexington KY, away from so much
I held dear.
And though God threw me into exile, I can't claim any sort of
spiritual superiority, but I do know that I've come to know him in ways
I wouldn't have in my former life. And here's the kicker, I have a
feeling that I've got a while yet here in the wilderness, the cave, the
belly of the whale. God has so much to show me and I'm a very slow
learner, prideful, and sometimes just plain obstinate. But here is
where I should be and where I will stay until he moves me forward. It
feels counterintuitive to the ways of God peddled today by those who
would tell us that our comfort and prosperity are signs that God is
blessing us because of our abundant faith. And sometimes, I think,
having muddled away years and years at writing and never "breaking
out", watching a small handful writers who, quite frankly, don't work
as hard as I do, meet with explosive success, that maybe those
people are right. Maybe my faith is so small, that I don't believe
strongly enough, that my word offerings aren't good enough. Can I say
this quite plainly?
Those people are wrong. And this sort of preaching and mindset that
comfort = blessing and riches = favor and a nice house with nice things
denotes wisdom has been so damaging to the people of God. Let's live a
little, shall we? Which hero of the Bible did anything other than the
unusual? I can't find one.
Has God begun taking you into exile so that you might serve him in
ways as yet unknown? Truthfully, I'm not sure where the Promised Land
is for me, or what that big job He has for me to do here in exile will
be, but I can look at what he did in the lives of His children of long
ago and know that he has his plans. I can either grumble my way through
this exile like the children of Israel did during their wanderings, or
simply set my eyes on the mark in the way St. Paul told us to. The
attitude is always up to us. (And mine isn't always as good as it is
today, just so you know! ha!)
Would love to hear your stories of exile. Thanks for stopping by today.
Pax Christi,
lisa
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