"Changing in Wilderness"
Numbers 32:7-13 and Exodus 16:4-12
Yonce Shelton, Westmoreland UCC
Oct. 12, 2025
Today’s passages offer tough, complicated, and maybe even confusing stories. My goal in giving this sermon is for you to feel how change has thrust us into the wilderness. And that there is hope. Still there is hope.
Forty years of wandering. Those 40 years followed 400 years of slavery for the Israelites in Egypt, before they entered the Promised Land. Those 40 years were God’s punishment for their unbelief and disobedience after they refused to enter the Promised Land, and because they rebelled against God by wanting to return to Egypt instead of facing new challenges. That's key to understand: they wanted to return to the familiar; they couldn’t accept the new.
But God used this time to prepare them; to foster growth. This time humbled them, taught them to rely on God's daily provision, and instilled a new sense of identity and faith to help them take on the challenges of what came next. The wilderness served as a "development ground" that taught them to trust God’s power; about the importance of faith; and that God was with them, even in the wilderness.
That's important because we, too, are in the wilderness. Things are changing, and it is not clear how long our “forty days” will be.
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Change. Change happens to us. It is often beyond our control. And then we get to choose how deep we go with what has happened and what that is doing to us; how honestly we acknowledge lack of control; if we can resist the urge to move past change too quickly before we have learned from it. Today, I want you to feel like the Israelites. I want you to be curious about their experience and what they learned – and what we might.
That is hard. It's scary. It's so big. It's hard because it might take you to a deeper place with hard inner work. But, we need to go to those places as people of faith. And this is a space to do that. Now, we are not in the exact same situation as the Israelites. But we do share with them a sense of immense change with more questions than answers. We have in common a sense of time and unknown events that will decide the future. We are wandering about, seeking to exist as well as we can, and asking: What comes next? Who can we rely on?
For many of us – but not all of us – this time feels very different. Earlier this year I went on a racial healing tour of the deep South with other faith leaders. As we learned about histories and struggles that impact the ongoing work for equality, and talked about new political realities, one Black leader said: Blacks and other minorities have known the feeling of being targeted, at risk, vulnerable, and without power for so long. Now, everyone – even Whites – may know that in new ways. Things are different now. Adjustment is hard. But we have community.
This is a new time – for many of us. Like it was for the Israelites. Sit with that. Feel what it does to you. Don’t worry about the details and challenges of their journey. Just try to be in touch with what they – or any group of people – might feel at one of these times. And see how that relates to where you are. Where do you feel the Israelites’ journey? How are you with recent changes that now define so much of life?
Take a breath. I know this is not fun. But it could be very helpful. Take advantage of this time in a unique, supportive community to go to that place. There may not be any other space in which you can truly do that. That is a reason to hope. And there will be more reasons if you bear with me.
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Political and cultural change. Catching us off guard. But we have a voice. We want better leaders so we will count the days until elections. But that's not all we should do. How else should we be? What if elections don’t fix things?
Church change. Westmoreland’s pastoral search may not be going exactly according to plan. We trust the pastoral search committee, but what if we don’t get the right settled pastor on the right schedule? And with the broader church, denominations, and local churches changing, what kind of new wilderness might we be in?
A recent Axios article says that the U.S. could see an unprecedented 15,000 churches shut their doors this year. The National Council of Churches estimates that 100,000 U.S. churches across denominations will close during the next several years. That would amount to roughly a quarter of the nation's 350,000 to 400,000 churches today. The decline of traditional brick-and-mortar churches comes as a record number of Americans (29%) are identifying as religiously unaffiliated, and as 62% identify as Christians – down from 78% in 2007. Another 15,000 U.S. churches will move from full- to part-time time pastors.[1]
What do we expect from traditional leaders and systems? Is that reasonable? How open are we to engaging the wilderness in new ways – with different ways of being community and church? Or do you hope we just go back to before? That didn't work so well for the Israelites. God didn't appreciate that. God wanted them to trust and grow instead. Maybe we can’t figure out growth on our own. Maybe our usual ways of developing action plans just won’t work. Probably the best thing we can do now is to really be with the change. And here's good news: You may be perfectly positioned to enter into your own version of the Israelites’ 40 years to explore needs with them and God.
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I asked you earlier to think about how this time feels to you. Now, I’ll introduce a way you can engage what 40 years of change means to you. There is a form of Ignatian prayer that invites Christians to immerse themselves in a biblical setting and scene; to transport/place themselves there and use their senses to draw practical fruit for their life. It is thought that over 50% of church-goers are able to pray this way relatively easily. The goal of this practice is to make scriptures come alive so that we can make a personal application to our lives.[2] I invite you to dip your toe in this way of prayer.
Close your eyes. Be with the Israelites wandering. Be in their midst. What are they wearing? Doing? What do they smell like? What are the expressions on their faces? What's the landscape? Any animals around? Now, just keep observing. And feel. Pay attention to what you feel. Now, see your own life and rhythms. Feel that. And see if you feel connected to them. Gently come back. Open your eyes.
This is where you do things like that: in a community of faith that is open to something bigger; open to how God works with wandering people; with at least some trust in God and hope for what will be. It's hard – but necessary for the spiritual life. And necessary if we want to be ready for what comes – and what perhaps we help create – after we understand what the change really means for us. And just because we pray doesn't mean we are settled and peaceful. There is still a role for angst and complaint.
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“The Lord spoke to Moses, “I have heard the complaining of the Israelites; say to them, ‘At twilight you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall have your fill of bread; then you shall know that I am the Lord your God.’ ”
Amy Oden was a professor and dean at Wesley Seminary, just down the road from us. Here is what she says about complaint:
“... It is here, in the wilderness, with no map, no resources, no cache of food or water to rely on, that the Hebrews encounter God. ... [T]he crowd turn[s] to face the wilderness as though trying to envision the manna there. And what do they see? The glory of God! There has been nothing like this sort of encounter with Yahweh up to this point for the wandering people. It is only once the people enter the wilderness and complain that God’s glory appears to them.”[3]
We can be real about where we are and what we need. God can handle it. Being real might just prepare us to receive what we need most. There is hope. But like the Israelites, we can’t return to the familiar; we must accept a new way.
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Remember: “Then the Lord said to Moses, “I am going to rain bread from heaven for you, and each day the people shall go out and gather enough for that day.” Remember also that when the Israelites “looked toward the wilderness ... the glory of the Lord appeared.”
In this time of change, may God give us the strength, wisdom, and openness to recognize and receive enough bread from heaven. May we have the courage to seek God and trust the journey through our own wilderness.
Amen.
