March 08, 2026
Rev. Sandy Lacey
Like most people, church people can be a contentious lot, arguing about anything. In my first call as a pastor, I made the mistake of agreeing to supervise and help coordinate the renovation project of the church parlor. I had been warned in Seminary about messing with the Presbyterian Women’s organization, but I thought, “how hard can it be?” As it turned out, it can be harder than you think. There were only two “sticky situations” and one of them had to do with the placement of furniture. We had bought this heavy, tall, entertainment center and two of the women had very different ideas about where it needed to be placed. I tried to intervene and work out a compromise, but how it ended up was when one woman went into the room, she moved the heavy piece of furniture to where she wanted it and when the other woman entered, she moved it back. This happened several times before I left that church in 2013. I always knew who had been there last by where the armoire/entertainment center was positioned. That is kind of a funny example, but there have been communities of faith who have forgotten that they are a community. In Frankfort, KY, the other Presbyterian church had a history of suing each other over how monies were spent from their endowment. Fortunately, in this church, we have not had any major quarrels in quite some time.
But that is not the case with the Hebrew people in today’s text from Exodus. They were still in this liminal space, this time between slavery in Egypt and freedom in a new land. They were still wandering around in the wilderness and still feeling out of control and unsure of what would happen next. Sure, God delivered them from the Egyptians as they crossed the Red Sea and God had provided water for them, and God had fed them with manna and quail along the way. But that was yesterday. Today is a new day with its own set of problems, they thought. They were thirsty again with no water in sight; and by the way, why hadn’t God anticipated their needs? Is Moses just leading them out in the wilderness to die? Is God with them or not? (That is always the question.)
During times of transition or times of crisis it is easy to allow anxiety to be the bread we eat and the cup we drink; however, that is always very short-sighted of us. Transitions are meant to be growing times for us as we take stock in where we’ve been and try to imagine together where we’re headed. We are asked to list the times God has been faithful and then wonder together how God is working in the liminal space to guide us into a new place/a new story. Anxiety only makes us stuck, entrenched in what we have always known and afraid to move into what will be. The big “C” church has been famous for it, for being dragged, kicking and screaming sometimes, into where God can use us. Yes, God is still with us, working with us, cajoling us into where we need to be.
I look at today’s Scripture passage in Exodus and I marvel at how thick-headed the people were. For heaven’s sake, God sent plagues to the Egyptians to help the Pharoah realize that he needed to let them go. And then God made a path through the sea for them when the Egyptian army was closing in on them. And God gave them manna from heaven every day for food until they complained about the lack of meat. Then God sent quail for them to satisfy their craving for meat. God gave them water when they were thirsty, rules for their life together, worship practices for spiritual nourishment, leaders to intervene between God and them. And yet . . . on any given day, their question became something similar to, “what have you done for me lately?” The tired refrain of “you just brought us out here to die!” became a kind of theme song for them. It’s as if they suffered from amnesia – could not remember a thing. The Exodus story is a seminal story for us in Scripture – almost a paradigm for our relationship to God. (We cry out to God, God answers and rescues, we become complacent and forgetful, we cry out to God, God answers and rescues, we become complacent and forgetful, etc.)
I wish I could say that we do not suffer from the same problem. But alas, we are forgetful too. As singer, songwriter Kathy Matea sings, sometimes “we are knee deep in a river, dying of thirst.” Oh, we do thirst. We thirst for meaningful and fulfilling work, for deep and soulful relationships, for laughter, for good health and enough money that will allow us to do what we want to do. We thirst for inspiration and the surety of knowing we are not alone. We thirst for a community of faith that brings us joy and opportunities for service. We thirst for a country that answers the call of the inscription on the Statue of Liberty. We thirst for leaders who make a positive difference. We do thirst. And sometimes our thirst stems from a place so parched that we cannot even imagine the crisp, clean, gushing of cool water that is the living water we need.
It is a good thing that God is in the restoration and re-creation business. Just when we think there is not a way in the wilderness, we are, once again, surprised by God’s work. We might be carrying a large empty vessel as we come to the well in the heat of the day. We might have a lot on our minds, and we might be wishing that we could come to the well when the other ladies do in the early morning, when it is not so hot. We could be lost in our own thoughts and sadness. And then a stranger asks us for help, for a drink. Living water – water that will quench your deep thirst for meaning and purpose, water that will remind you that you are a loved child of God, water that takes all the quarrels away, water that makes your spirit gush forth so that you must tell someone that God IS alive and is working – this living water drenches you. And now you remember it all. God has been there the whole time and will continue to be. To catch such an insight, to suddenly remember who you are and to whom you belong, to realize that your desire for control over your life and those around you can only bring you heartache. Why? Because control is always an illusion and God’s gift of love, grace, perseverance, re-creation is always much larger than any sandbox control we might think we want. Let it go and drink to your heart’s content of Jesus’ promise of living water that gushes forth in all our parched places – individually and corporately.
Yes, changes happen and they might be a little scary for us. Will I/will we lose our identity? Will our numbers decrease? Will I/will we continue to grow in relationship to one another and to God? Will our leaders help us find the right people and will they help to keep us grounded? All good questions, but I think you already know the answers deep inside. Liminal space – that space that is between slavery and freedom, between an empty vessel and living water, between one pastor and another who is called to lead – is necessary. For how else can newness be born? Yes, change can be hard, and we may wonder if God is with us. Fortunately, God has great patience and promises to be long-suffering with God’s crazy people. Thanks be to God!