The true and better Moses (Hebrews 3-4)

For me, one of the most compelling things about Christianity is its coherence—that the pieces of God’s story come together to form a whole.  The Bible isn’t a bunch of different stories collected between two covers; it’s one story, from beginning to end, and it’s a story about Jesus.

THE EDGE OF PROMISE

As I was reading the story of Moses this past week, I was struck by the fact that though the Pentateuch (those first five books of the Bible) is so focused on Israel’s journey to the Promised Land, the people never actually get there.  Moses leads them to the border—though they never actually go in.  It isn’t until the book of Joshua that we see the people actually enter into God’s Promised Land.

The writer of Hebrews notes that neither Moses nor anyone in Israel’s great hall of fame truly experienced the full breadth of God’s promises:

39 And all these, though commended through their faith, did not receive what was promised, 40 since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect. (Hebrews 11:39-40)

This side of the resurrection, each of us is a sojourner, an exile, someone wandering toward God’s future yet never truly getting there—yet. 

We catch a hint of this as the book of Deuteronomy winds to a close:

And Joshua the son of Nun was full of the spirit of wisdom, for Moses had laid his hands on him. So the people of Israel obeyed him and did as the Lord had commanded Moses.

And there has not arisen a prophet since in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face, 11 none like him for all the signs and the wonders that the Lord sent him to do in the land of Egypt, to Pharaoh and to all his servants and to all his land,12 and for all the mighty power and all the great deeds of terror that Moses did in the sight of all Israel.  (Deuteronomy 34:10-12)

Israel, of course, had many prophets who followed Moses.  It may be that they regarded some of these prophets as more or less successful than one another, but ultimately Moses was the man most admired by God’s people.

Except, if we understand how these pieces fit together, then we must conclude that we need a prophet—a true and better Moses—to lead us not merely to the edge of God’s promises, but into them to see them fulfilled.

THE TRUE AND BETTER MOSES

Jesus is the true and better Moses.  The writer of Hebrews picks up on this exact theme, noting that while Moses served God as a servant, Jesus was faithful as a son:

3 Therefore, holy brothers, you who share in a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession, 2 who was faithful to him who appointed him, just as Moses also was faithful in all God’s house. 3 For Jesus has been counted worthy of more glory than Moses—as much more glory as the builder of a house has more honor than the house itself. 4 (For every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God.) 5 Now Moses was faithful in all God’s house as a servant, to testify to the things that were to be spoken later, 6 but Christ is faithful over God’s house as a son. And we are his house if indeed we hold fast our confidence and our boasting in our hope.

7 Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says,

“Today, if you hear his voice,
8 do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion,
on the day of testing in the wilderness,
9 where your fathers put me to the test
and saw my works for forty years.
10 Therefore I was provoked with that generation,
and said, ‘They always go astray in their heart;
they have not known my ways.’
11 As I swore in my wrath,
‘They shall not enter my rest.’” (Hebrews 3:3-11)

You may recall that Moses and the Israelites had previously doubted God and refused to enter the land when they saw the Canaanites there.  Their fear—their disbelief—condemned them to their wandering (Numbers 13-14).  They did not at that time get to experience God’s rest, a lesson the writer of Hebrews uses to illustrate the consequences of not turning our focus to Christ.

Jesus promises a better rest, not found only in the land but in the eternal splendor of God’s renewed and restored Kingdom.  The writer of Hebrews takes the word “rest,” applying it not only to the Promised Land of Israel’s history but to the promises of God’s eternal future:

8 For if Joshua had given them rest, God would not have spoken of another day later on. 9 So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, 10 for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his. 11 Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience. (Hebrews 4:8-11)

Jesus is the true and better Moses, whose obedience leads us all into a new world of promise, a renewed and restored creation where perfect joy and perfect justice flow like the fabled milk and honey of Israel’s dreams.

In today’s political and social climate, there are many things that engender fear and disbelief.  But hope engenders hope, and by looking toward God’s glorious future, we are reminded that the battle scars we bear are not exceptions or setbacks to God’s great promise—they are the very reasons for it.  And so we turn, this day and always, to the true and better Moses, to the Savior whose obedience leads us onward into the very heart of promise.

God’s “appalling” mercy (Deuteronomy 34)

“You cannot conceive, my child, nor can I or anyone, the appalling…strangeness of the mercy of God.”  Graham Greene wrote these words about the fictional characters of his novel Brighton Rock, words meant to underscore God’s unfathomable grace toward even those who’d turned his back on Him.  As a novelist, Greene tended to see something redemptive about the pure love of impure people.  As Christ-followers, we both affirm and challenge this idea: that God does indeed extend an “appalling” mercy toward the broken, though never on the purity of our love, but the purity of his own.

We should therefore view Moses’ mistake not merely as an example of human error, but also of divine grace, of an “appalling” mercy that reminds us of the incredible compassion of God.

We should recall that Moses’ crime went deeper than merely striking a rock he was commanded to speak to.  No; his condemnation was for his failure to uphold the Lord as holy (Numbers 20:12).

But if we read our Old Testament carefully, we should note that Moses is hardly the first to commit such a transgression.  Remember Nadab and Abihu?  These were the sons of Aaron, men who earned their place in history as the men who offered “strange fire” before the Lord:

Now Nadab and Abihu, the sons of Aaron, each took his censer and put fire in it and laid incense on it and offered unauthorized fire before the Lord, which he had not commanded them. 2 And fire came out from before the Lord and consumed them, and they died before the Lord.3 Then Moses said to Aaron, “This is what the Lord has said: ‘Among those who are near me I will be sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified.’” And Aaron held his peace.  (Leviticus 10:1-3)

Don’t miss the reason this penalty falls on them.  God says that he “will be sanctified,” that is, his name will be made holy.  Aaron’s sons disregarded the Lord’s command and did what seemed right in their own eyes.  They failed to uphold the holiness of God.  Moses disregarded the Lord’s command and did what seemed right in his own eyes.  He failed to uphold the holiness of God.

I wonder if this ever crossed Aaron’s mind when he saw what Moses was doing.  Was he remembering his sons?  Did he feel the tears on his cheeks all over again?

But Moses would not share the same fate.  Though barred from entering the Promised Land, Moses would be permitted to see its borders:

Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho. Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho. And the Lord showed him all the land, Gilead as far as Dan, 2 all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah as far as the western sea, 3 the Negeb, and the Plain, that is, the Valley of Jericho the city of palm trees, as far as Zoar.

And the Lord said to him, “This is the land of which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, ‘I will give it to your offspring.’ I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not go over there.”

So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord, 6 and he buried him in the valley in the land of Moab opposite Beth-peor; but no one knows the place of his burial to this day. Moses was 120 years old when he died. His eye was undimmed, and his vigor unabated. 8 And the people of Israel wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days. Then the days of weeping and mourning for Moses were ended. (Deuteronomy 34:1-8)

Make no mistake: the reason the author describes Moses’ ongoing vitality was to remove any suggestion that Moses died of natural causes.  His remains were never recovered, most immediately to ensure that even in death Moses never entered the land, but perhaps also to prevent anyone from building a shrine to the memory of a mere man.

Moses’ life was supernaturally taken to fulfill God’s earlier promise.  But Moses also died with the vision of God’s promise laid before him in hill and in valley.  Obviously, Moses did not write down the details of his own death.  Though Moses is the author of the Pentateuch—those first five books of the Bible—a later editor felt it necessary for future readers to know of Moses’ fate, a fate both tragic and merciful, of grace and justice mingled sweet.

Through the progress of God’s revealed story, we know that Moses lost his earthly rewards but not his eternal destiny.  Moses appears alongside Elijah in front of Jesus and his closest followers.  Some even believe Moses will be one of the two witnesses described in Revelation 11.  And regardless of where Moses’ dust now resides, it will one day be gathered together that he might join Israel in the Promised Land when God restores his creation.

These things, too, are further examples of God’s “appalling” mercy.  Appalling because it defies our simply expectation of cause and effect.  And appalling that we, too, might be the recipients of God’s great grace.  That God should die that I might live is an appalling form of mercy, that the righteous should die for sinners like us should never cease to take us aback with its shocking strangeness.  To be given, like Moses, even the smallest glimpse of God’s eternal promise—well, this too is appallingly strange.  Every other major religion relies on the steadfast rules of cause and effect.  The gospel is greater and stranger than that.

Every one of us has made mistakes.  Every one of us has failed to uphold God as holy.  Yet as long as our trust is in the forgiveness offered through the cross, then we, too, might experience God’s appalling mercy, a mercy that lifts us out of the darkness of our shame, and lifts our eyes to a greater horizon ahead.

My will be done (Numbers 20)

Is there any greater lie that we tell so routinely as: “I accept these terms and conditions?”  Every so often one of my computer programs will undergo some routine software update and, after finishing, will ask that I reaffirm my commitment to their terms and conditions.  Except, like most sane human beings, I have no time whatsoever to scroll through the multi-page document.  I just hit “accept” so I can keep on truckin’, as if Steve Jobs is working from beyond the grave to make liars of us all.

No one reads those terms and conditions.  I think technically the Apple corporation has power of attorney over me.  Except I wouldn’t know, because I just hit “accept” without ever reading the agreement.

God is ferociously and wonderfully holy.  His righteous character provokes our allegiance.  In the story of the exodus, God uses Moses to redeem his people from Egyptian captivity, and uses Moses to lead his people to the Promised Land.  This, as we said, is the central focus of the “Pentateuch,” the first five books of the Old Testament.

Along Israel’s journey, God provides for his people, often using Moses as his instrument for doing so.  In one scene, God commands Moses to strike a rock to produce water for the people (Exodus 17:5-6).  Later, God issues the same command, though with a slight variation:

2 Now there was no water for the congregation. And they assembled themselves together against Moses and against Aaron. 3 And the people quarreled with Moses and said, “Would that we had perished when our brothers perished before the Lord! 4 Why have you brought the assembly of the Lord into this wilderness, that we should die here, both we and our cattle? 5 And why have you made us come up out of Egypt to bring us to this evil place? It is no place for grain or figs or vines or pomegranates, and there is no water to drink.” 6 Then Moses and Aaron went from the presence of the assembly to the entrance of the tent of meeting and fell on their faces. And the glory of the Lord appeared to them, 7 and the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, 8 “Take the staff, and assemble the congregation, you and Aaron your brother, and tell the rock before their eyes to yield its water. So you shall bring water out of the rock for them and give drink to the congregation and their cattle.”9 And Moses took the staff from before the Lord, as he commanded him. (Numbers 20:2-9)

Moses is now commanded not to strike the rock, but to speak to the rock.  But here’s what happened:

10 Then Moses and Aaron gathered the assembly together before the rock, and he said to them, “Hear now, you rebels: shall we bring water for you out of this rock?” 11 And Moses lifted up his hand and struck the rock with his staff twice, and water came out abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their livestock.  12 And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not believe in me, to uphold me as holy in the eyes of the people of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.” 13 These are the waters of Meribah, where the people of Israel quarreled with the Lord, and through them he showed himself holy. (Numbers 20:10-13)

Moses did not adhere to the terms and conditions.  He struck the rock, contrary to God’s earlier commands.  His penalty?  He would not be permitted to enter the Promised Land.  The penalty sounds devastating, until we again consider the ferocious and awe-inspiring character of God, a God who offers grace yet still demands obedience from his followers—especially those he uses as leaders.

In fact, if we look closely, we find that Moses drifted off course in several areas of leadership:

  • He rebuked the people harshly (v. 10)
  • He took credit for what God was doing (v. 10—“shall we bring water…?”)
  • He lost his temper (v. 11)
  • He disobeyed God (v. 11)

The sum total reveals a lack of trust and a lack of acknowledgment of the true holiness of God.

C.S. Lewis once famously wrote that when we stand before God, there are two and only two kinds of people in the world: those who humbly say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those who proudly say, “My will be done.”  Though a faithful servant, in this moment of his life, Moses took the latter course.  And there will be times when we do the same.

It’s easy to drift into selfishness, isn’t it?  If you’re wondering what this might look like for you, think of it this way: have you ever caught yourself saying or thinking one of the following?

  • I expect credit for my accomplishments.
  • I wish other people wouldn’t get in my way.
  • What I ignore today can be handled tomorrow.

All of us are prone to moments of selfishness and weakness, but the cumulative effect of these thoughts causes us to drift away from holiness and toward our own happiness.  And there is no greater tragedy than self-interest.

And here’s where it gets a little more frightening: Moses’ way of doing things didn’t result in immediate failure.  He was successful.  Water really did come out of the rock.  His consequences lay ahead of him.  I think what this means is there will be times in our lives when we are operating outside the boundaries of God’s character—and things will go just fine.  People may even speak well of us.  But inside we will be sickly and selfish, the consequences of which will eventually leave us desiccated and empty.

This is why the idea of “drifting” is so important. No one drifts toward holiness.  All of us, on our own, drift toward center, drift toward self.  This is why we need the gospel.  The cross shatters our illusions of greatness; it reveals to us the ugliness of our deepest depravity.  But when the cross shatters our wrong self-image, it replaces it with the image of the Son.  In Christ we are granted the power once again to be bent toward God and toward neighbor; we are set free to serve a greater master, and once again experience the power to love someone else.  The cross beckons us to surrender the idol of self-interest, and enables us to finally utter, “Thy will be done.”

 

 

“Summer Slide” (Hebrews 11:23-29)

It’s called the “Summer Slide” or “Summer Learning Loss.”  If you’re a parent or an educator, you’ve probably experienced it.  When kids leave school for the summer, they tend to lose the information they gained over the year.  Some studies report that when measuring verbal and math skills, some students lose as much as 2-3 grade levels of ability in only three months.

Yikes.  I mean, how long have you or I been out of school now?  Probably a lot longer than three months.  We’ve forgotten a lot.  A lot. 

Educators and professionals report that there are specific strategies for helping children overcome the summer slide—mainly by finding simple ways the brain working over the summer:

“As simple as it sounds, reading books can reverse the summer slide in literacy skills for even the poorest children. Richard Allington, a professor at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville, and his colleagues found that giving kids 12 books to read over the summer was as effective as summer school in raising the students’ reading scores….Another study…found that regardless of family income, the effect of reading four to five books over the summer was large enough to prevent a decline in reading-achievement scores from the spring to the fall. Kim’s other finding: children who said they had easy access to books over the summer ended up reading more. So seasonal alarm bells aside, the best way to push back against the summer slide is with your library card.”[1]

Here’s where we’re heading: the “summer slide” can happen to any of us, and I’m not just talking about your ability to help your kids with their math homework.  I’m talking about our spiritual lives.  While faith isn’t about developing a “skill set” like reading or math, there’s a rhythm and a pattern to our walk with God that, when broken, has ripple effects for most of the rest of our lives.

No one’s saying that it’s wrong to take a summer vacation.  No one’s saying it’s wrong to enjoy some time off at your beach house or on the boat.  What we want, however, is for each of us to be as intentional with our spiritual habits as we are about our recreational habits.

This week we’re going to look at Moses, whose shining example is tainted by a single great mistake.  In the book of Hebrews, the unnamed author lists Moses among the many great “heroes” of the faith:

23 By faith Moses, when he was born, was hidden for three months by his parents, because they saw that the child was beautiful, and they were not afraid of the king’s edict.

24 By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh’s daughter, 25 choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. 26 He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.

27 By faith he left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible.

28 By faith he kept the Passover and sprinkled the blood, so that the Destroyer of the firstborn might not touch them.

29 By faith the people crossed the Red Sea as on dry land, but the Egyptians, when they attempted to do the same, were drowned.  (Hebrews 11:23-29)

We probably all have an image of Moses from the old Charlton Heston movie.  It is through Moses that God reaches into human history to rescue his people from Egyptian slavery.  This movement out of Egypt—an event we know as the “exodus”—became symbolic of the way that God redeems all his people from the slavery and bondage of sin.

So it is fitting that the writer of Hebrews should use Moses as an example of the kind of faith that we should strive for.  But as we will see, Moses’ record was hardly spotless.  What lessons might we learn?

  • First, we recognize that God’s perfect plan always comes about through imperfect people. All of us are deeply flawed.  It is equally fitting, then, that the writer of Hebrews directs our thoughts to Moses’ faithfulness rather than Moses’ failure.
  • Second, we recognize that God is gracious. Moses’ failure resulted in God’s discipline, but not his full wrath.  Moses is counted among the heroes of faith, and even supernaturally appears alongside Elijah on Jesus’ mount of transfiguration (Matthew 17:1-8), so it’s clear that Moses never lost his salvation.
  • Third, these great achievements should also remind us that there are none so great that may not have a moment of failure.  When we find ourselves at our most successful, those may the times when we are most vulnerable.

In the days ahead, we’ll see how the frustrations of leadership prompted Moses to “drift” from his steadfast course—even in a seemingly subtle way.  And it may also reveal the way our own heart attitudes can cause us to drift from holiness in search of our own happiness.

 

[1] Annie Murphy, “Do Kids Really Have ‘Summer Learning Loss?’” Time.com, July 1, 2013, http://ideas.time.com/2013/07/01/do-kids-really-have-summer-learning-loss/

New Sermon Series Begins This Sunday: “Drift”

Sitting on a raft or relaxing on an inner tube in a lazy body of water, it might not seem like one is moving whatsoever. After a time, without an identified point of reference to continually look back to upon the shore, one might find himself having quietly and unnoticeably drifted rather far away.

Without diligence and an intentional commitment to remain focused upon a stable point of reference, this may happen to us spiritually. Imperceptibly, weeks have gone by without observing disciplines like biblical connection and prayerful dependence. Now adrift, we realize we are not as close to the solid ground of fellowship with Christ that will sustain us in difficulty.

A time when this may especially happen is when we are out of sync with life rhythms … you know, like the summer.

The second summer sermon series that begins this week is called “Drift,” and it follows rather naturally upon the heels of the “Rooted” series. Drifting is what can happen when our roots are weak or our connection to the Vine is comprised.

We are going to look at some very famous biblical characters who, for all of their commendable traits and deeds, found themselves at a juncture of life to be “adrift” and disconnected. We will be looking at Moses, Elijah, Jonathan, Jonah, Solomon, and Peter.

We will have some devotional writings to accompany these studies, beginning each Monday. Maybe not every week will have five writings, but there will be some resources we trust will help you stay more anchored, even while enjoying the pleasantries of the summer months.