The Rev’d Quintin Morrow
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
Fort Worth, Texas
www.st-andrew.com
A certain man attends his company’s Christmas party with the intention of having a good time. During the course of the evening, however, the said man consumes much too much alcohol. He awakes next morning feeling awful. He has a pounding headache. He is nauseous and achy all over. And he recalls in the sober light of day what an absolute fool he made of himself the evening before. He promises himself that if he recovers from this hangover he will never drink again.
Fast forward now a year. This same man again attends the company Christmas party. He again drinks too much, and his coworkers again have the opportunity to see him wearing their favorite lampshade. And he again awakens the next morning with regrets and pledges of amendment of life.
The term for the all too familiar phenomenon just described is selective amnesia. Selective amnesia is the incomplete recall of past experiences that favors the positive but conveniently forgets the unpleasant.
And if ever there was a people who suffered from a corporate selective amnesia it was the nation of Israel in the Old Testament. The first 3 verses of the chapter provide the necessary context for the rest of what happens in chapter 16, and reveals the first of what will be many, many other examples of the people of Israel suffering from selective amnesia.
Allow me to read the first 3 verses of Exodus chapter 16 to set the context for the message this morning.
And they ajourneyed from Elim, and all the congregation of the children of Israel came to the Wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and bSinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they departed from the land of Egypt. 2 Then the whole congregation of the children of Israel ccomplained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. 3 And the children of Israel said to them, d“Oh, that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, ewhen we sat by the pots of meat and when we ate bread to the full! For you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”
Now, I must tell you, this griping and complaining would be laughable if it were not so tragic.
You recall that after 4 centuries of slavery in Egypt God raised up a deliverer for the descendants of Abraham in Moses. The Lord brought plagues, and blight, and even death upon the Egyptians until pharaoh agreed to emancipate the people of Israel. In Exodus 14 the Lord miraculously dries up the Red Sea to allow His people to cross on dry ground. And He closes the Red Sea again on pharaoh and his army as they attempt to pursue Israel to return them to bondage, destroying the then most mighty military power in the world in one fell swoop. Exodus 14 ends with this in verse 31:
Thus Israel saw the great work which the LORD had done in Egypt; so the people feared the LORD, and believed the LORD and His servant Moses.
In Exodus chapter 15 the Lord miraculously turns the bitter and poisoned waters of Marah sweet and drinkable so that His people would be refreshed.
Everything God had done for His people thus far He had done to demonstrate that He was able to take care of them, and that He would take care of them. And yet here we find them in chapter 16, the recent recipients of so much grace, so much miraculous provision, and so much loving care, griping, murmuring, and complaining. And as I indicated previously, this grumbling was not unique; it would come to characterize the nation of Israel throughout the remainder of the Old Testament.
Let us spend a few moments this morning examining the phenomenon of complaining saints, as well as how we might correct the flaw in our own lives—both individually as believers and collectively as a church family.
To begin, complaining is a spiritual problem. It finds its origins in discontentment. Biblical commentator Matthew Henry writes:
Discontentment magnifies what is past, and vilifies what is present, without regard to truth or reason.
And he is exactly right. When we are discontent, and think life or God owes us more than we currently enjoy, we begin griping and complaining. If we are to defeat the unsavory vice of complaining, we must catch it in its infancy here—in discontentment—and work to foster that rare and precious jewel of contentment. And contentment for the believer is the conviction that God loves us and will provide for us, and that He is in absolute control of every situation, even difficult ones.
Next, complaining is a gratitude problem. When we begin assuming our blessings as rights, and forget how much we’ve been given, and how little we actually deserve, and when we forget to thank the Lord for everything, we begin complaining. As the old revival hymn goes: “Count your many blessings, name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord hath done.” I can tell you now: It is impossible to be grateful and to grumble at the same time.
Thirdly, complaining is a perception problem. And this cuts two ways. For a start, complaining exaggerates the positive memories of the past. “Oh, that we were back in Egypt!” the Israelites said. Wasn’t Egypt wonderful?! Never mind the toiling from daylight till dark and the stripes across our backs. In the Episcopal Church this phenomenon exhibits itself in wistful recollections of past rectors. You know the old saying in our church: “Which was any parish’s best rector?” The answer: “The last one.” “Oh, to be back in the good old days of reverend so-and-so.” Maybe. But it wasn’t all wine and roses. There were problems. And any church expending energy trying to replicate the past will never be open to what God has for its future. But secondly, complaining exaggerates the problems of today. The people of Israel were hungry, but they weren’t going to starve. The same God who parted the Red Sea and turned bitter waters sweet was going to feed them. He just hadn’t done it yet. But their complaining caused the Israelites to magnify the good things of the past and magnify the problems of today—both completely out of proportion.
And fourthly, complaining is a contagious problem. Misery loves company. And what had begun with the murmuring of a few malcontents becomes, by chapter 16 verse 2: “Then the whole congregation of the children of Israel complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness.” Behind any complaining you will invariably find someone else’s discontentment, or your own discontentment looking for sympathizers.
I should add here, parenthetically, to corroborate the point that complaining is essentially a spiritual problem—a problem in our submission to and trust in God—that the Lord, in verses 4 and 5, promises miraculous bread from heaven to feed His people. This manna, so named because the Israelites asked “What is it?” manna in Hebrew, when it first appeared, was given by God in such a way so as to test the people to see if they would trust Him. The people were to collect only enough for each family to consume in one day. They weren’t to store any extra. And two days worth were given on Fridays so that the people would not violate the proscription of working on the Sabbath and labor to collect it. Guess what? We read in the remainder of chapter 16 that the Israelites failed the test miserably. Many collected more than necessary and attempted to store it. What remained became rotten and full of worms. Others went out on the Sabbath collect manna when none was given. Their fundamental problem was a lack of trust in the Lord, and this mistrust exhibited itself in grumbling and greed. They that have ears to hear, let them hear.
The most remarkable part of this story, apart from the miraculous provision by God of bread from heaven, was that in the midst of all this griping and greed, God graciously hears the cries of His people.
Do you know what we find over and over in Scripture? That when the Lord’s covenant people whisper His name, He bends His ears to earth to hear them. The Book of Hebrews encourages us to go boldly before the throne of grace. That doesn’t mean we kick down the doors and demand God to give us what we want. Rather, it is coming before our loving heavenly Father, confident we’ll get a hearing, and that He will give us what we ask if it is beneficial for us and in accord with His will. The Lord hears the prayers of the righteous.
But more than that, Jesus reminds us in the Sermon on the Mount that God knows our needs before we even ask.
The point here is that there is no need to complain. If we need something we will get it. If we don’t have something, it is because we don’t really need it, because it isn’t good for us, or because we haven’t received it yet. Remember, God’s answers to our prayers are “yes,” “no,” and “yes, but not now.” Our response should not be complaining then, but trust and patience.
It is a good thing that God is patient with us, and forgiving. How many times have we complained in the midst of His goodness, and found fault with the way He is administering the universe? We learn in Exodus chapter 16, however, and throughout the remainder of the Bible, that in spite of His people’s shortsightedness God graciously hears them.
And God generously gives them what they need. Verse 11:
And the LORD spoke to Moses, saying, “I have heard the complaints of the children of Israel. Speak to them, saying, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall be filled with bread. And you shall know that I am the Lord your God.”
Sometimes the Lord gives us what we need and not always what we want. But sometimes He gives us what we want, too. And notice also that He gives in abundance. The Lord not only gives the people of Israel bread, but also meat in the form of quails in the camp in verse 13. And He gives them not just a little bread, but He promises them they would be filled with bread.
Well, how can we grow from griping to gladness? How can we move from complaining to praising?
Firstly, we must trust the LORD completely. This trust means more than ascent to a set of abstract propositions about God, but rather is a whole-hearted reliance upon Him in daily living. It means “hitching your star” on Christ, to use the vernacular, and to cling to Him no matter what may come. “Though he slay me, yet will I trust him,” Job says in Job 13:15. That’s trusting the Lord completely.
Secondly, we must thank the Lord continually. St. Paul reminds us in Philippians 4:6-7 that we are to be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, to let our requests be known unto God. And if we do, he promises that peace from God which passes all understanding will guard our hearts and minds. Be thankful in everything. Good times. Bad times. In all times. As I said earlier: It isn’t humanly possible to be truly thankful and continue complaining.
And finally, we must tell of the Lord constantly. We had testimony meetings in the Baptist Church where I grew up. People would stand up and just share with the congregation what the Lord had done for them. We could use a little of that in the Episcopal Church. Sharing testimonies gives the one sharing boldness in proclaiming the Gospel. And the ones who hear them are encouraged by God’s loving intervention in the lives of others.
This principle was certainly at work in the Old Testament. Read through the psalms. From beginning to end you find the psalmists promising to praise the Lord publicly and share with the congregation God’s mighty deeds if only He would deliver them from trouble. David prays to the Lord for deliverance from his enemies in Psalm 22, that familiar psalm which begins with “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?” If it comes, verse 22, David swears, “I will declare your name to my brethren; in the midst of the assembly I will praise you.”
John Yates, the Rector of the Falls Church in Virginia, tells the story of a young man writing at a post office desk who was approached by an older fellow with a post card in his hand. The old man said, “Young man, could you please address this post card for me?”
The young man gladly did so, then agreed to write a short message when asked and to sign the card for the man. Finally the younger man asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
The old man looked at the post card, thought about it for a moment, and said, “Yes, at the end put, ‘P.S. Please excuse the sloppy handwriting.’”
Complaining takes no special skill. Anybody can do it. But maintaining our joy come what may takes grace, strength, and humility. It is going to require a spiritual DNA change. Let us make the decision today to seek those virtues and be people of holy expectation and contagious delight.
AMEN.
