The whole Israelite community set out from Elim, and came to the Desert of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after they had left Egypt. In the desert the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron, saying “If only we had died by God’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve all of us to death.”
God said to Moses, “I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather just enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions. On the sixth day they are to prepare what they bring in, and that will be twice as much as they gather on the other days.”
So Moses and Aaron said to the Israelites, “In the evening you will know that it was God who brought you out of Egypt, and in the morning you will see God’s glory, because your grumbling has been heard.” Moses also said, “You will know that it was God when you are given meat to eat in the evening, and all the bread you want in the morning, because your grumbling has been heard. Who are we? You are not grumbling against us, but against God.”
Then Moses told Aaron, “Say to the entire Israelite community, ‘Come before God, for your grumbling has been heard.’” While Aaron was speaking, they looked toward the desert, and there was the glory of God appearing in the cloud.
God said to Moses, “I have heard the grumbling of the Israelites. Tell them, ‘At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.’”
That evening quail came and covered the camp, and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the camp. When the dew was gone, thin flakes like frost on the ground appeared on the desert floor. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, “What is it?” they did not know what it was.
Moses said to them, “It is the bread God has given you to eat. This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Each one is to gather as much as he needs. Take an omer for each person you have in your tent.’”
The Israelites did as they were told; some gathered much, some little. When they measured it by the omer, the ones who gathered a lot did not have too much, and those who gathered only a little did not have too little. Each one had only as much as he needed.
*****************************************************************************
In 2009 Norio and I camped at Berry Hill Campground in Gros Morne National Park. There we met Louise and Phil Decker, who were the caretakers of the park campgrounds. Every morning, Louise was up at 6, and went to every single campground and rest area to clean the washrooms. Phil went around and emptied all the garbage cans. Then they both sat down to sort the garbage, taking out things like batteries, separating out the recycling. Phil is a retired fisherman, and at that time was still at sea on a seasonal basis, so he could bring in enough for the two of them to eat over the winter. Louise, of her own volition, started teaching a course to children in the campgrounds, about the native plants and animals of Newfoundland, the lives of those who fish for a living, and then she taught the children how to make certain kinds of local food. In the early spring, she cleaned every camp site, making sure the fire pits were cleared, cut the weeds down, sanded and painted the picnic tables. The day we sat with them, Louise had just finished a class with 39 kids. They own a tiny house, really a hut, on the property at Broom Point. Parks Canada wanted to make the whole point a historical site, so they offered to buy Louise and Phil’s property, for $3000 - and told them they could move the house off if they wished.
Like many small fishing huts, this one had been in the family for several generations. It was not originally a year-round living accommodation, but was there just to live in during the fishing season. Fishing families would come to the point every year, when their fishing permits allowed, in order to work. They processed, dried, and canned the fish right on the premises. There is still a small cannery hut there. The salt fish, and the canned salmon, was picked up by larger boats which took it to market. In 2009, Phil and Louise made 50c a pound on their lobster catch. Norio and I sat with Louise and Phil in our campsite that July, over a glass of wine, and talked about life in Newfoundland. Needless to say we were impressed with the passion and the optimism of these two people.
Louise was a tiny woman, but don’t be fooled. She was a formidable presence, and passionate about her life. Get her talking about how the Canadian government is killing off the fisheries - and the lives of many people - by selling out to large corporations. Louise was smart, savvy, and hard-working. So was Phil. They love life, and despite their criticisms of the way things are done, and what is done to them, they have a solid faith that what they DO have is given to them, by God, to use well. They don’t have much, but if you asked them I am guessing they would say they have enough.
...and I am pleased to say that Louise was made a park interpreter. She travelled, on her own money, to New Brunswick, to take courses about the plants, animals and rocks of Newfoundland - because nothing was available on the island. She had never been away from Newfoundland before, and was afraid of going to Halifax, but she did. Broom Point, with cottage and cannery, is now a historical site. I’ve heard that her classes at Broom Point are packed and highly popular.
I am telling this story because Louise and Phil epitomise for me what it means to be on a life journey. There have been times when these two were in a wilderness. Yet they survived, and grew, even if all they had was bread and water. - and for me it ties in with the words of the Psalm “Create a clean heart in me, O God, and put a right Spirit within me.”
Today we meet the Israelites, newly freed, and looking forward to going to the land they have been promised. In the first throes of real freedom, they were happy to be anywhere but Egypt, and they sang and danced their joy! Then, of course, as the days went on reality set in. They are wandering in the wilderness – we’ve interpreted that to mean a desert, but that’s not necessarily the case. The small stocks of food they had brought along were gone, and there was little if anything to eat in the wilderness. There was no wildlife, no large body of water, no edible plant life. The people became hungry and thirsty; the manna they were receiving didn’t last long, and water from a rock was hardly sufficient. Bread, and water: that was their diet in the wilderness. It began to feel like they were in prison again. Everything they had was taken away, and they had to rely on themselves instead of being fed by their captors, and they honestly had no clue about survival.
So, like most people when things don’t go the way they want, when they’re uncomfortable, they complained, and they blamed their leaders, Moses and Aaron. They wanted to go back to Egypt, yes, they were slaves, but through their eyes they had good food and fairly comfortable lives. Why did they complain to God about their slavery? Did God set them free from one kind of oppression just to kill them off in the desert? If they were going to die anyway, better to do it back in Egypt where at least they could do it in relative comfort. They wanted more: more food, more water, more variety in their diet. More. And someone else was supposed to do it for them. But they wanted to be safe too, they thought they wanted a change, but then it wasn’t what they thought it was going to be.
They sound like us, don’t they? Like those ancient Israelites, we want more. We want more variety, more choices. So we can now order our fish deep-fried, broiled, baked, grilled, or blackened. We want to be able to eat all kinds of foods whenever we want it. We want our churches to grow, more people to come, but we don’t want to change how we do anything, and when it doesn’t happen, it’s our leaders who are the problem. Clergy, in our more depressed moments, call it the “Back to Egypt Committee – and there is one in every congregation.
Norio and I have an ongoing discussion - I won’t call it argument - about food when he is in Cuba. What is enough? After five weeks there, he doesn’t want to eat rice and beans any more. He can’t find Japanese noodles. The Chinese food isn’t really Chinese. The pizza is different, there’s no Korean food. Oh, there is some variety in the food but not what he gets in Toronto, where we can have anything we want any time. My comment to him is that he is too spoiled, that the Cubans have to eat those things every day. Yet there is a sense of gratitude for what they do have, even in the middle of a restricted life, dealing with sanctions as well.
And that is where Louise and Phil come in. When we met them, they didn’t have the luxury of Japanese or Chinese or Korean or Thai or Greek or Italian, or whatever. Their diet is mainly fish; given all the wild berries we picked around the island, and the people we met picking them, I know that they get a lot of their fruit that way. They don’t have a lot of money, they can be critical, and yet on the most basic of levels, they are satisfied.
It’s no accident that bread and grains are at the top of the food pyramid; they provide great nourishment. Bread of the right kind can be packed and carried on long treks. We need bread, and we need water, to be well and healthy.
We are invited in these stories to trust in the God who feeds us what we need to live, and calls us to gratitude for life. We are called to echo David’s Psalm - make our hearts clean, put a right spirit within us. When we eat the bread of life, when we drink the living water God offers, we can thrive, and be satisfied - and we can be grateful.
That’s why Louise and Phil impressed me so much. From our point of view, they didn’t have much. Life is a struggle, every single day, to make enough to live on. And yet, if you ask them, they will tell you they have enough. Bread, water, and fish; Jesus sat by a lakeshore, roasting fish over a fire and toasting up some bread – and feeding his friends – those things which really matter in life..
Acknowledgements:
1. Louise and Phil Decker, Gros Morne National Park
2. Material from the sermon “Thriving on Bread and Water” by Randy Thompson.
