Exodus 16: 2 - 21
The whole congregation of the
Israelites complained against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness. The Israelites
said to them,
“If only we had died by
the hand of the Lord in the land
of Egypt, when we sat by
the fleshpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this
wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger.”
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. In that way I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction
or not. On the sixth day, when they prepare what they bring in, it will be
twice as much as they gather on other days.”
So Moses and Aaron said to
all the Israelites,
“In the evening you shall
know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt,
and in the morning you shall see the glory of the Lord, because he has heard
your complaining against the Lord. For what are we, that you complain against
us?”
And Moses said,
“When the Lord gives you meat
to eat in the evening and your fill of bread in the morning, because the Lord
has heard the complaining that you utter against the Lord—what are we? Your
complaining is not against us but” against the Lord.”
Then Moses said to Aaron,
“Say to the whole
congregation of the Israelites, ‘Draw near to the Lord, for he has heard your
complaining.’”
And as Aaron spoke to the
whole congregation of the Israelites, they looked toward the wilderness, and
the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. The Lord spoke to Moses and
said,
“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.’”
In the evening quails came up
and covered the camp; and in the morning there was a layer of dew around the
camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the surface of the wilderness was
a fine flaky substance, as fine as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw
it, they said to one another, “What is it?” For they did not know what it was.
Moses said to them,
“It is the bread that the
Lord has given you to eat. This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Gather as much
of it as each of you needs, an omer to a person according to the number of
persons, all providing for those in their own tents.’”
The Israelites did so, some
gathering more, some less. But when they measured it with an omer, those who
gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage;
they gathered as much as each of them needed. And Moses said to them,
“Let no one leave any of it
over until morning.”
But they did not listen to
Moses; some left part of it until morning, and it bred worms and became foul.
And Moses was angry with them. Morning by morning they gathered it, as much as
each needed; but when the sun grew hot, it melted.
***
It is Harvest Season. It
began for me with four days of rain and slightly cooler weather, and the
Mushroom Hunter within me knowing it was time. I had a couple of hours after
church, and though friends had a plethora of ideas for Sunday afternoon
activities, I said, “I’m going mushroom hunting. You can come if you want, but
I’m going.” For me, there are few things that trump hanging out with friends,
but rain had promised and the forest was calling. We piled up with a couple of
picnic baskets and headed up the mountain. Within a minute and five feet of the
car, Liz asked, pointing to a mushroom bigger than my head, “Is this one?”
There was jumping, kind of squealing, and for the next hour a running
commentary that varied little from, “I am so excited. This is more boletes than
I have ever seen. I can’t believe this. Thank y’all so much.”
I then stared being choosy.
“Lets not pick the Lactarious Deliciosos or the Shrimp Russulas because we only
have two baskets and the Boletes Edulis are best.” I was kicking myself for not
arming my hunters each with a big basket, but my hope had been unequaled to
God’s bounty. I do see fungi that way; there have been times wandering alone in
the woods I have prayed for just one, and too often prayed for just one more,
bartering my greed with a generous God, measured the joy of surprise with the
expectation of entitlement. When I am mushroom hunting properly I am a giant
five year old at an Easter Egg Hunt. When I am mushroom hunting improperly, I
am crying because a sibling got more Easter Eggs. When I am mushroom hunting
properly I notice the shape of each mushroom, I hold it up to my nose and smell
the woodsy smell, I place it carefully in my basket like the rare and beautiful
piece of art it is, and I give thanks after each. When I am mushroom hunting
improperly, I pick a basket full and go that much further, and finding more of
a choice kind, I lay the already picked lesser kind as trash on the duff mossy
ground. Yes, the squirrels could eat it, and the maggots would no doubt, and
like picking a flower I am not taking from next year’s crop, but there is
something about putting back food which you already touched which just feels
wrong. We teach kids not to, not only to be sanitary, but because there is a
sort of big eyed greed that comes in touching, putting back, and grabbing
something different. There is certainly a big eyed greed that can couple with my
wonder and thanksgiving in mushroom hunting.
That day, we walked back, the
picnic basket pressing red marks into my exhausted arm and I had to ask for
relief because it truly was more than I could carry. At home we feasted on
boletus, and puffballs, coral mushrooms and more. We sliced and spread what
would not fit in the dehydrator, and I carefully continually turned them to air
out. But mushrooms do not keep and I had not listened to Moses.
I left part of it until
morning, and it bred worms and became foul. Morning by morning they gathered
it, as much as each needed; but when the sun grew hot, it melted.
The next morning maggots
melted the beautiful caps into an inky goo on my kitchen table. The part that
was left, bred worms and became foul, and when sun grew hot it melted. Then,
out of the moist of the forest, tiny white maggot bodies dried and wiggled to
their death, until with the melted mushrooms, I swept them into the trash. Who
was I that took from the squirrels and the deer, or even the lowliest of
maggots? Who am I that has stored up God’s bounty in glass jars? I too am like
the Israelites who have taken more manna than I needed.
