Understanding Faith within the Secular Context
They fled.
They fled on foot and with whatever possessions they could carry, they traveled through the dessert, through mountain passes that would ease their journey, climbing mountains would happen later.
Instead of leaving directly, this group of Israelites were led through the wilderness toward the Red Sea.
While not as direct a path to freedom, it was safer in so much as they would not have to confront a potential enemy in the Philistines who lived on that route.
So, they made their way through the wilderness being led by a pillar of smoke by day, a whirlwind of fire by night.
They cut their shins on the sharp thorns of dessert brush; their feet ached under moonlight.
until they were in front of the Red Sea.
Their leader looked sternly ahead.
They were stopped.
The movement of 600,000 men plus their wives, plus their children stopped.
They were stopped in front of an immovable object.
This troop of freedom seekers holding 600,000 individual dreams, the dreams of children, the dreams of women, the dreams of family units were paused at the edge of the Red Sea, vast and barren.
They were stuck.
And in the distance, the hardened heart of Pharoah’s army, his fastest chariots were speeding through the mountains.
He led them in formation.
The sound of horse hooves, chariot wheels, the weight of armor fitted on Pharoah’s finest fighters thundered in a distance; a gathering storm threatening the group of Israelites though many in number, were in no way prepared for battle.
The people turned to witness the horde that would bring their own demise.
They grew fearful.
Why had their leader brought them there?
They were trapped.
Mothers began to hold on to their babes tighter, the hands of toddlers were held tight with concern.
The people cried out to their leader:
‘Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, “Let us alone and let us serve the Egyptians”? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.’
And their reader replied:
‘Do not be afraid, stand firm, and see the deliverance that the Lord will accomplish for you today; for the Egyptians whom you see today you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to keep still.’
And the rest, as they say, is history.
The Lord parted the waters.
The Israelites fled through the Red Sea; great walls of water framed their path as they tread upon the sea floor.
They ran, perhaps dropping the detritus of a hastily organized journey along the way.
They made it to the other side.
They gathered on the shore on the other side, they turned to look at the Egyptians behind them.
They too were taking the sea floor route the Israelites took.
The group of 600,000 grew fearful again.
They were tired of running.
They could run no more even though the chariots were speeding towards them.
And then they saw the water wall begin to collapse.
The Egyptian army, the entire army was swept into the raging waters, not one soldier remained.
Not one chariot remained intact.
The Israelites were finally free.
Their faith had led them to safety.
Paul writes, “By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land, but when the Egyptians attempted to do so they were drowned.”
The Israelites faithfulness is the reason for their escape being assured.
Now, many of us know this story.
It’s one of those stories on par with the birth of Jesus and his ultimate resurrection.
We are born with this story, we are read it in Sunday school, we watch it in popular culture in movies and on TV.
It is part of the ether; it is ultimately part of the very foundation of our Christian faith.
We are the promised people.
We are the people promised freedom from our Egyptian oppressors.
Moses, the leader of that band of 600,000, met Jesus along with Elijah on a mountaintop.
God saved the lives of the Israelites through their faith and through their faith they were saved on the shores of the Red Sea.
God favored the 600,000.
God favors us as well.
This story is not just a great and dramatic story, it is evidence of God’s love for all of us.
It is a part of our Christian DNA; it is a part of us.
Unchangeable.
Real.
Tangible.
Except, what if it never happened?
In the secular world, there is no evidence that a number as large as 600,000 men along with their wives and children up and left Egypt all at once.
There is no administrative record showing Egyptian scribes ever wrote such a thing into their official records.
There is no record of Pharoah’s army disappearing into the sea.
There is no archaeological evidence anywhere on the Sinai Peninsula of a large mass of humanity moving about for forty years.
There are no fields full of pot shards.
No sign of human remains and residue.
Many scholars date the writing of Exodus to the Babylonian Exile in the 6th century BCE.
Rather than being an historical artifact, many now see Exodus written as a book of hope, assuring those exiled to Babylonian captivity that God still wishes their freedom, that ultimately, they will, indeed, be free.
How do we reconcile this?
We have grown up knowing the truth of the Exodus.
What if it is just a myth?
A fable?
Does this mean our faith now rests on a foundation of sand?
If the science is proven correct, does that mean our faith is proven wrong?
Well, as a priest, and in an effort to keep my job, I would say no.
No.
Our faith cannot be proven wrong.
But we can evolve within it.
Or we cannot.
We can acknowledge the evidence presented before us and really wonder how this story of Exodus fits into our lives and our faith in God.
We can also remain steadfast to our beliefs.
We can cite other’s work on the matter.
We can weigh the evidence.
We can do many things.
But if we approach scripture as a series of instructions and factoids, then perhaps we are not treating our faith seriously.
We become stronger in our faith when we struggle with it.
We do not have to deny faith to struggle with it, we do not have to become less Christian, less of a believer if we acknowledge the difficulty inherent in attempting to find truth.
It sometimes seems impossible that I am deserving of a complete and total love such that Christ provides.
It is sometimes easier to not believe I am so deserving rather than confronting the possibility such a thing even exists.
But to my heart.
To the deepest depths of my soul, I truly believe all of you, and in so believing as am I, are deserving of that love.
And as I implied last week, and perhaps even times before, we sometimes realize God’s love in the company of others.
When I see the product of Christ’s love in all of you, I come away knowing the reality of that love, the palpability of a thing hoped for lives within you.
Christ’s love for you is real.
And Christ is real, that cannot be argued.
And yet there will be times of doubt, of questioning.
When we look to this world such as it is, we can sometimes wonder where our faith fits in.
But I tell you this, it fits.
And we find it especially in community, in gathering, in searching and wondering together.
As Paul wrote and as we heard this morning.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
Friends, in all of this is movement.
Nothing is fixed.
Allow for that movement.
And in that movement is Christ.
Wonder.
Love.
Pray.
Know that what is true can reside in your heart just as it can your mind.
And that within that movement, one thing is fixed.
God loves you.
And you are loved so wonderfully, so well.
