Mustn’t Grumble '06

Texts: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; James 5:13-20; Mark 9: 38-50

I visited a very interesting man this week. We talked about many things, including grumbling and community service. His son recently took him for a holiday to Vanuatu . It was an ideal spot, beautiful scenery and weather to match. He told me that the thing that will always stay with him is the sounds of the place, the sound of the sea, the sound of the birdsong, and the sound of laughter. He said the people there were always laughing. They were always happy. The whole time he was there he never heard anyone complain or grumble about anything.

He mentioned this to his son. His son said well, they haven’t got anything to go wrong, so what could they grumble about? That theory was put to the test when the seaplane failed to show up. One day a week a seaplane called at this particular island – it was the main connection with the outside world. My friend and his son were due to leave on it on this particular day when it simply didn’t show up. A few locals were waiting for it, too. It turned out the pilot simply forgot this island and missed it out. Nobody seemed to mind. It’ll come next week – probably. So my friend and his son had four weeks on the island, instead of three. As it happened, neither of them was in a hurry, so they didn’t grumble. Well, not much anyway.

And when my friend came back to New Zealand , he felt he had learned a valuable lesson. If those people on the island, with virtually no material assets, can be happy and content with their lot, how much easier should it be for us in this country of plenty? What have we got to grumble about compared to a large majority of the world’s population? In his new mellow mood he went to the supermarket, and smiled to himself when he heard a customer getting very upset because they were out of her favourite brand of coffee. There were plenty of other brands of coffee to choose from, of course, but she didn’t want any of those. She preferred to throw a tantrum instead.

My friend thought to himself, what she needs is a few days in Vanuatu . Then he went home and decided to check his emails. He found he had lost his internet connection. No big deal – easy enough to re-connect. But he found himself threatening his computer and blackening the good name of his service provider. In his mind he saw himself marching to the end of the wharf somewhere with his computer under his arm and heaving it into the sea! How can a man remain happy when checking his emails takes 5 minutes longer than it should?

After we’d laughed about that, he raised the subject of church attendance, or in his case, non-attendance. It’s a familiar topic on such visits. It’s never me who raises the subject; but as soon as people realise I’m the vicar they start trying to explain why they haven’t been going to church recently, or promising to start doing so shortly, and generally sounding quite contrite about it all.

I threw this guy a bit by asking him why he thought he ought to go to church when there are so many other things to do with his time. He said he thought the church was important in the community, being part of the community was important, it showed we cared for people. I said I had heard that he had done quite a lot over the years for his community in all sorts of ways. He modestly disclaimed any such record. Apart from the Fire Brigade, the union, the School Committee, the Cancer Society and various sporting groups, which I already knew about, he told me about one or two oldies he keeps an eye on “as anyone does”. That’s when he’s not tramping “and enjoying this beautiful country of ours”. In the end he made no promise to come to church, but he did promise to take me with him on his next walk up through Graham’s Bush and on to the Organ Pipes.

I thought of him again when I sat down with these readings. In our first reading everybody’s grumbling again. The people are grumbling about the monotony of their diet. Never mind that the manna they have been eating has been miraculously provided for them free of charge. They want something else – they want some good old meat they can get their teeth into. Moses takes their side. He grumbles to God. Why has God imposed this great burden on him? How is he supposed to manage – he can’t provide them with meat. And in desperation he says to God: I cannot carry all these people by myself; the burden is too heavy for me. If this is how you are going to treat me, put me to death right now – if I have found favour in your eyes – and do not let me face my own ruin.

This, of course, is one stage in a whole series of grumbling from the Israelites in the wilderness. From the beginning a clear pattern emerged. Some real need would arise, the Israelites would wail and scream, the need would be met, and peace would break out until the next time. That’s what happens here. The Lord God hears their cry for meat and provides it. More importantly, he hears Moses’ cry and meets that, too. He anoints seventy elders to assist in the task of leadership.

Except that he miscounts. He not only anoints the seventy elders with Moses on the mountain, but he also anoints two other elders who for some reason or other failed to go up the mountain with the others. And look at the reaction, not from some nameless makeweight at the bottom of the pecking order, but from the rising star of the group, Joshua, son of Nun, the one chosen to take over when Moses’ life ends. Joshua wants the two missing elders closed down – they shouldn’t be anointed because they are not in the ‘in-group’.

And we find the same sort of attitude among Jesus’ disciples. We were told by St Mark in chapter 6 of his gospel that Jesus called the Twelve together and “sent them out two by two and gave them authority over evil spirits”. So we can imagine them going around exercising this ministry and frankly feeling rather good about themselves, feeling rather important, perhaps. Then they come across some guy who isn’t one of them, and find he is doing the same thing – he is casting out demons in Jesus name.

And they strongly object. They have failed to understand that ministry is for the person being ministered to – not for the minister. Jesus wants people set free from all that may oppress us. That’s why he came to us. The question is, not who is exercising the ministry, but is it being carried out effectively? Is the Lord’s work being done? If so, it doesn’t matter very much whether the people doing it do or do not consider themselves disciples, members of the in-group (or church, as we call it today).

And so to St James – sadly, this is the last time we will have some wisdom from him for a while. But he goes out in style. And we certainly get the impression that grumbling wouldn’t go down well with him. As always he sees things pretty clearly. If anyone is in trouble, they should pray (not grumble!); if they are happy, they should sing songs of praise – that’s the religious version of laughing happily. How different our lives might be if we adopted those simple and clear strategies.

If we lack meat, we can give thanks for the bread we have got. If we lose our interconnect connection, we can give thanks for those we are connected to in love and friendship. If we lack people in our churches, we can give thanks for the ministry exercised by those outside.

And the next time someone says to us, “well, mustn’t grumble” – we can say, Amen, Amen!