Boxes and Gardens

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Joshua 5:9-12 5:9 The LORD said to Joshua, "Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt." And so that place is called Gilgal to this day. 5:10 While the Israelites were camped in Gilgal they kept the passover in the evening on the fourteenth day of the month in the plains of Jericho. 5:11 On the day after the passover, on that very day, they ate the produce of the land, unleavened cakes and parched grain. 5:12 The manna ceased on the day they ate the produce of the land, and the Israelites no longer had manna; they ate the crops of the land of Canaan that year.

In our reading from Joshua today, the Israelites have been on their journey for 4 decades. An entire generation has passed since they had lived under the yoke of slavery in Egypt. For 40 years the Israelites have lived on manna that would appear each morning as sustenance was provided day in and day out for each sunrise and sunset for that lengthy wilderness journey.

And then… they come to Gilgal. They celebrate Passover… remembering the night when the Angel of Death passed over their doorways with the sacrificial lamb’s blood painted upon the frame. They celebrate, remembering the promises that God had given the Israelites those many years ago. They celebrate¸ that after their long journey in the wilderness… they are finally coming home.

And as the people of Israel eat the produce of the land… as they eat the crops from Canaan and taste the unleavened cakes… the people know they have finally arrived. They are finally finally finally… at their new home.

Up until Ashley, the boys and I moved here to Oklahoma, it was rare that we got to stay in one place for more than a year. In the first ten years of our marriage, we moved 11 times. We lived in Arkansas, Texas, then Arkansas again and then Iowa in multiple cities in different housing arrangements… at times we lived in tiny apartments or a small loft… other times we found ourselves living in a parsonage built 100 years ago for a family twice our size. We lived within a small city at times… and other times we had vast manure-covered fields surrounding our house.

Each time we moved during my college and seminary journey, we found new people to love and embrace… we experienced different traditions and different accents. But we really grew to have the expectation that it would come to an end. A year together… perhaps… and then gone again. It was a strange existence. And, in some ways, I imagined what it was to live as the Israelites had all those years ago.

We learned that the roads brought unexpected joys and pains… and yet that God was with us along that journey for all of the twists and turns that we were experiencing.

We had become so accustomed to living in a state of constant transition that it really took us a good 3 years living in Oklahoma before we realized that we didn’t need to keep our hallowed moving boxes. It was “ok” to let go of those boxes. We finally gave ourselves permission to celebrate and let go of even the sturdiest of the boxes… boxes that had been labeled sometimes 5-6 times or more as they were repurposed again and again.

Those boxes had become part of our identity as a young couple. It was a strange experience to see them move on as we realized that we ourselves were moving on to a different stage of our lives. Now, 5 years in the call here and one more kid than we came to Oklahoma with… it’s hard to even imagine how we kept up that pace those years ago of packing and unpacking over and over. And believe me when I say that staying in one house for now 4 years is something that we most definitely celebrate.

I can only imagine for the Israelites all those years ago when they finally came to the promised land after being on the move for not just ten years… but for 40. When they finally unpacked their pack animals that were now 2-3 generations removed from Egypt…. When they finally opened up those baskets marked “family heirlooms” that hadn’t been opened since the journey began 40 years prior… when they finally realized that they could break down their travelling equipment and start construction on places that they would call home… I can only imagine how they celebrated in that moment.

For those of us who have had places that we have called home for years it is challenging to imagine how the Israelites experienced entering the promised land. There are things that we take for granted that they would have found incredible.

Imagine, for 40 years, never being able to plant a garden that you would be able to harvest from. Imagine, for 40 years, not planting a tree that you would expect to see grow and bear fruit. Imagine, 40 years without building fences for animals because you can’t pick up the fences and keep moving. Imagine 40 years of not having furniture to re-arrange… because it would be too much to carry.

It makes me wonder what things in our faith lives we have come to take for granted as well. Not all, but the great majority of folks I talk with about their faith speak about being life-long Christians. I remember as a child being asked by a very good friend of mine about when I had been saved as a Christian.

I told him that I was pretty I had always been saved. God, Christ… the church… it had always been part of my life. And I remember feeling almost envious of my friend as he told the story of how he had come to Christ. The faith that I had grown accustomed to… he was excited about experiencing for the first time. What I had grown to accept as my faith to simply be the way things are and always have been… he was transitioned from never having had any faith in something beyond this life to suddenly believing that there was at least a possibility of life to come.

For my friend, it was like he was finally coming home to settle down. For him, he was realizing for the first time what a blessing it was to even consider that even though this life is so transitory… so quick… we’re here and then we’re gone… that in our faith there is a Kingdom with God that we can finally plant a garden in. And what’s more… he was realizing that we can work on that faith garden even here in this life. We can cultivate our faith… grow more deeply into it… be nourished by it… and see it continue to blossom even after the boxes and urns we’ll one day put our bodies in are long gone.

And I remember, as a kid in Junior High at the time, being almost annoyed my friend for how excited he was about this realization. I had been investing in my faith all my life… and I never remembered being that excited about it. I hadn’t remembered any earth-shattering moments when suddenly my understanding of the universe had been deeply shifted. Thanks to those around me, I had been nurtured in that understanding from a young age. So where as my friend had been coming out of the wilderness, so to speak, and finding a place where he could finally plant a garden… I didn’t know that there was a different kind of life than being settled in my faith and having a garden of God’s promises to find some hope in.

In Luke’s telling of the prodigal son, I see a lot of myself in the elder son who had stayed on the farm with his dad. While his younger brother had been living it up for a time before losing all his money, the elder son had been continuing to care for the farm back home. And there’s even this pang of frustration that the elder son has when the father slaughters the calf and for the younger brother who had been away from the home for so long… and he complains that his dad never did slaughtered a calf for him before.

But there’s something that the elder son is missing here that even the Gospel writer doesn’t highlight. While there is this great celebration feast for the younger son returning… the elder son had been eating at the table the whole time. While the younger son was finally realizing the blessings that he had been missing out on… the elder son had become so used to them that he had begun to take them for granted himself.

The hugs from their dad. The shelter over their heads. The food on the table. A security for the days to come… the elder son had always known these to be a part of his life. The younger son had learned what it was to be without them. And curiously enough, both of them struggled with the celebration. The younger son could not believe he was so fortunate to have this celebration… the elder son did not realize he had been receiving the celebration throughout all the time that his younger brother was not.

But both are welcome at the table. Both are loved at the table. Both are cared for at the table. Both are nourished and encouraged at the table. Elder brother and younger brother alike. Established household… established kingdom… and curious wanderers alike.

Perhaps you identify with the younger brother or the Israelites who just made it to the promised land. Your eyes are wide open to blessings that you didn’t think were possible… to a future that wasn’t even imaginable. If that’s the case… know that you are VERY welcome at the table. Your energy and excitement and youthful perspective of faith is the stuff that helps new things grow in the garden.

Or, perhaps you identify with the elder brother… or the more established kingdom of Israel… maybe you’ve thrown away all of your moving boxes and have forgotten what it is like to be on the move. Perhaps you have been at the table for so long that at times you forget what a marvel it is to be welcome at the table. If that’s the case… know that you are VERY welcome to the table. Be reminded of the extraordinary gift that it is… but also give thanks for the sustained nourishment that you have received for years.

Either way or even something in between… know that the table has a place for you there. Know that God creates space for us to eat… God offers a place for us to start our own gardens of faith… that we might worry less about our caskets and urns but more about the fruit of life that sustains from this life into the next. Eat the good fruit. God’s peace be with you. Amen.