SOCHEWS

“Tell the Israelites, each and every Israelite and foreigner in Israel who gives his child to the god Molech must be put to death. The community must kill him by stoning… I will resolutely reject that man and his family, and him and all who join him in prostituting themselves in the rituals of the god Molech.”

“I am God who makes you holy and brought you out of Egypt to be Your God. I am God.” (Leviticus 20:1,5; 22:32-33)

God laid some extremely harsh laws for the Israelites. And amongst the litany of commands, the punishment for a lot of them was death. God seemed bent on reminding the Israelites that they were chosen people, set aside. They were not to be defiled. They were to listen to His every word. And continually, God always reminded them that it was He who brought them out of Egypt.

What was Egypt? Egypt was the place where God’s children were slaves. They were in chains. They served rulers and systems that never saw them as God’s chosen people, but only as tools to build a greater kingdom. It was God who delievered them from captivity, through divine intervention.

But why the need to always remind his children that they once came from Egypt? Because it was easy to forget. Because life in the wilderness, trekking and following and learning and relearning who their Maker and “God” is, was difficult. And many times, it seemed that being a slave in Egtpy was never as bad as it might have been.

I am an Israelite. This walk with God is complicated. It’s not easy, because I’m not easy. It’s a narrow walk, and whether I like it or not, following Christ means I’m following a different Spirit. One that calls me to leave behind false idols and Gods, that asks me to forsake the lust of the flesh, pride of life, love for the world. It calls me to put to death all manner of independence and self-centred living, one with no care or concern for others. To leave behind Egypt, the place of slavery, for a land of freedom.

But I forget. I love Egypt. I love how it can at times fill that empty space in my heart. I love how short-term pleasures, even if only for a split-second, seem worthy and mildly pleasurable. The life of a spiritual pilgrim, wandering in the desert, can feel so unnecessary, because who am I kidding? Where is God? When will 40 years finally reach a destination?

It does feel, many times, I’m fighting a losing battle. I live in a world that resolutely comes after any spirit that seeks faith, hope, love. My desires rule over me. I can be so selfish. I can feel so unconnected to who God is. And it can be lonely. Why walk? Why make the pilgrimage?

I don’t know. I guess one reason is that I’m not an Egyptian. I’m his. I’m his son. And no matter how many times I fall, how many times I taste and feel empathy to the systems of the world I live in, the world is not my father. I don’t belong in Egypt. So I guess it’s understandable that this journey is punctuated by moments of loss, that I’ll feel like an alien, that loneliness dots the landscape. I hate it. I may not deal well with it. But I understand it. Egypt is not my home. I belong in the wilderness.

My prayer is that in moments I forget whose I am, God will remind me again and again that he is the One who brought me out of Egypt. That I don’t belong here. And that faith, hope, love will always be with me as I make the pilgrimage through hills and valleys.

Father, you’re here. In my moments of weakness, you’re here. I’m not perfect. I’m riddled with fears. I want control. But I’m also yours. That makes all the difference.

Keep reminding me you brought me out and are bringing me out daily, from slavery. Give me courage to destroy the idols. To walk with you. Amen.