Never making it into the Promised Land

But the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not trust in me enough to honor me as holy in the sight of the Israelites, you will not bring this community into the land I give them.” 

Numbers 20:12

Moses didn't make it into the Promised Land. It's true. He didn't physically go into the land that was promised in that moment to the Israelites.  He stood at a high place and peered into what had been promised, but he didn't make it in. His disobedience kept him out and he died. It's recorded in Deuteronomy.

Then Moses climbed Mount Nebo...There the Lord showed him the whole land...Then the Lord said to him, “This is the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob when I said, ‘I will give it to your descendants.’ I have let you see it with your eyes, but you will not cross over into it.”     And Moses the servant of the Lord died there in Moab, as the Lord had said. He buried him in Moab, in the valley opposite Beth Peor, but to this day no one knows where his grave is. Moses was a hundred and twenty years old when he died, yet his eyes were not weak nor his strength gone. The Israelites grieved for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days, until the time of weeping and mourning was over.

 Deuteronomy 34:1-8 

Moses did not physically enter the promised land, but I say he did make it in.  Moses' made it in the Promised Land in the hearts and souls of the people he led out of Egypt.  His departure left a void - left a crack in the community. Joshua didn't fill it. Joshua couldn't fill it. No one could. It was a Moses-shaped crack that was to be held by the community.  

I suppose that's partially why God hid his frame (his body) so that no one would demand to physically hold him.  We are to hold the space of the leaders before us in our hearts and souls, by living out and practicing what they have taught us. That is how they move forward with us.  Each and everyone of us is made up of the people who have poured their lives into ours, in the seasons that they have been with us.  We have the wonderful task of holding the space that was crafted and molded by them, even when they are gone.   That's how we honor them. That's how we hold them even when they have departed. 

There's something else though.  Moses was not kept from THE Promised Land.  

After six days Jesus took with him Peter, James and John the brother of James, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light. Just then there appeared before them Moses and Elijah, talking with Jesus.  

Matthew 17:1-3

Thousands of years later, Moses is seen on the Mount of Transfiguration, as a vision from God.  God had not forsaken Moses. While the physical, geographical Promised Land was out of his reach, he was enveloped in the eternal Promise! Israel went on.  Israel never forgot him. They were changed forever by him.  They held the space that he had crafted within their hearts and stepped into the Promised Land.

Although we may not go into the geographical Promised Land, we are not removed from the Promise! And although we lose people, we can trust in the Promise of redemption, restoration and reconciliation! Not just trust in it, but live into it!

Dating China

Last winter, my husband and I visited a charming antique shop in Westfield, NY.  Window-shopping at antique stores and sometimes buying is one of our hobbies, even our children love to do it.  We've been known to take entire day trips just driving around here in Ohio to check out old treasures. Of course, antiquing in the Ohio area is way different than antiquing in New York.  This store had real antiques, centuries old items gathered and cataloged from our past. Part of our fascination with antiquing is the story - speaking with the current owners about the pieces, how they acquired them, what they know about them, etc.  On this day in NY, we began to chat with this store owner about his story - his store, which was located in the oldest building in Chautauqua County. Very quickly we moved onto discussing how it is that older women come across their heirlooms that we now celebrate and seek out.  He had funny stories to tell. He said something that day that made complete sense but it wasn't until yesterday that God began to show me the spiritual implications of what he was saying.
     I have my grandmother's china. It's about 50 years old.  I know this because I value story and I know how it came to be in her hands.  My husband's mother has china that was her mothers, the story of how it came to her hands is a little less known.  So we are left for the most part to guess at its age and value.  Countless numbers of people are left in this situation of not knowing the story of the pieces they have in their possession.  This gentleman talked about this very thing.  He explained that people come into his store pretty regularly with their grandmothers china and grandma would have been 90. They are anticipating and boasting that their china must be nearly 100 years old and worth a great deal.  He often has to disappoint them and here's why.  It's rare that we have truly old generational china in America -- china that was great great grandmas.  We have china that was our grandmothers or at best her mothers.  So here's what he said, "If Grandma is 80 or 90, and it was her china.  At best it's 60 years old, but probably between 40-60 years old.  Grandma didn't buy china when she was born.  Grandma bought china in her early 30's, after she was married and settled down, bought a home, after she had grown up a bit, learned the value of things, had a child or two and began to understand the idea of investment. And she usually bought in pieces as she could afford it."
     That is so true. Something happens in our 30's - there's a shift in us, a maturing of sorts.  No matter how young we start our "adult life", it's not until our thirties that we truly begin to see great strides in our paths.  Consider Jesus.  We know very little of his life before 30.  The stories before that were of his birth (Luke 1:1-20; Matthew 1) and of an inconsiderate boy who basically ran away, scaring the crap out of his parents (Luke 2:41-52). It was at 30 that he presented himself to the world. Perhaps it was at 30 that he had finally grown up, settled down, learned the value of things and understood the idea of kingdom investment.
     Now I'm not suggesting that before 30 we have no chance for wise choices or great strides towards a better future.  Of course, great things happen. Throughout our young life we gather pieces of the puzzle that we begin to put together more fully as we settle down, learn the value of things and understand investment in others and in our world.
     So let me tie this up to where these ponderings left me yesterday.  If Grandmas don't buy china until their early 30's, if Jesus didn't make himself known or begin his ministry until his early 30's, if we acknowledge that something shifts within us in our early 30's, why do we expect 18 and 19 years to have it all together? To make all the "right" choices? To think first of the big picture?  It was in my teens that I made some of the worst choices in my life, but it was in my teens that I learned some of the greatest lessons in life that became pieces of the puzzle called my life. And it was in my teens that I felt some of the greatest judgment and began to wear layers and layers of shame and guilt.
     It wasn't until my 30's that I found freedom from both external condemnation and my own self-condemnation for the things that I had done.  It was when I was in my early thirties, after I was married and settled down, had bought homes, had grown up a little bit, learned the value of things, had a child or two or three that I began to truly understand the idea of kingdom investment.  Although I had had glimpses of this "grown-up-ness" before, it was in my early thirties that I began to understand the necessity of loving myself and loving others - to see people not through the lens of my expectations, but instead as a piece of grandma's fine china, holding the very image of God and having value beyond anything that I could imagine - irreplaceable, unique, worthy of love and guarding.  It was in my thirties that I learned compassion, deep real compassion that gives grace to even the worst of us, that gives love to the undeserving, that gives hope to the hopeless.  Compassion that gives protection to those the world sees as unworthy and brings about redemption in the most unexpected ways.
     Let us not forget that our lives are a journey. Every day we gather pieces of our story, like grandmas gather pieces of fine china.  Every moment we get to move a little closer to wholeness and redemption.  We get to make mistakes. We get to experience beauty.  We get to have moments of complete "rightness" and even in our moments of complete "wrongness" - our Creator, the God of the Universe delights in us! Smiles down upon us! Calling us towards him!