Based on
a sermon by Jachin—Singapore
Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says:
“Today, if you
will hear His voice,
Do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion,
In the day of trial in the wilderness,
Where your fathers tested Me, tried Me,
And saw My works forty years.
Therefore I was angry with that generation,
And said, ‘They always go astray in their heart,
And they have not known My ways.’
So I swore in My wrath,
‘They shall
not enter My rest.’ ” (Heb 3:7–11)
The early Jewish
Christians would have found this passage, borrowed from the Psalms by the
author of Hebrews, very familliar. Faced with the wave of anti-Christian
persecution that swept the Roman Empire, these Jewish converts might have yearned
for the comfort and stability their old Judaism had afforded them. Their
decision to remain faithful to Jesus required a lot of spiritual grit.
It is against this
backdrop of persecution and pressure to forget Jesus that the author of Hebrews
penned his epistle. Instead of relaying clichéd consolations, he chose to
remind the early Christians of the ancient Israelites who were once like
them—persecuted, confused, and never lacking in enemies. And just as He was
with the Israelites, the almighty one true God was on their side. Yet these
Israelites mostly perished in the wilderness. The author warned his audience
not to be like them. In fact, the Israelites were a privileged group: they
heard the very voice of God, and saw His mighty works. They were also taught
the laws of God. But sadly, they rebelled against Him. The author of Hebrews
diagnosed the primary cause of their downfall: hardened hearts. When one’s
heart is hardened, one is not able to respond appropriately to what God has
done.
Hence, the hardening
of one’s heart is a pitfall that every Christian must guard against. It
happened to the Israelites during the wilderness journey. It happened to the
Jewish Christians at the time of the writing of the Book of Hebrews. It could
also happen to us today.
MURMURING MEN
How can we identify
a hardened heart? A striking symptom of this spiritual disease is the vile
practice of complaining—the favorite habit of a group of people Jude would
later call “grumblers.” The Israelites were a querulous people. Beginning with
their first complaint, recorded in Numbers 11, it is clear that the Israelites
expressed little else during their wanderings apart from their dissatisfaction
about how God was leading them.
We do not know the
reasons for the Israelites’ first complaint (Num 11:1–3). They were probably
tired and frustrated with their journey in the wilderness, as well as the harsh
living conditions. Moses, when recalling those forty long years as a nomad,
remarked poignantly that the wilderness was a “great and terrible place” (Deut
8:15). Their trek, which lasted almost half a century, was no fun, to say the
least; travelling defenseless (or so they thought) amidst foreign and hostile
kingdoms did not make things easier. They would endure all this to fight, quite
possibly to the death, for a strange land to call their own. The odds were
stacked against these former slaves, led by a shepherd wielding a wooden rod.
Why did they complain? Well, it seems like they had every right to. Why, then,
was God so displeased with them?
Apostle Paul tells
us that we should not harden our hearts “as in the rebellion” (Heb 3:8). If we
are always complaining about our life, we are complaining against God and what
He has given us. This was the reason why God was displeased with the Israelites
(Num 11). When they complained, they were not making harmless complaints about
the scorching sun. They complained that God had allowed them to suffer in the
wilderness. This was the first sign of a heart hardening against God’s love.
Their complaints angered God, and He sent fire to burn them; hence, they named
the place Taberah (which means “burning.”) They complained and they were
burned.
A lesson for us
Christians is that we have so much more at stake than the non-believer when we
complain. The non-believer trusts only in himself and his ability to shape his
own path, and therefore all his complaints amount to nothing more than
emotional venting or self-critique. We Christians, on the other hand, trust
that God has a plan for us and that His love and grace are constantly guiding
us. This guidance helps us to become stronger and better, despite, and
sometimes because of, what we have to fight our way through. When the Christian
complains, he does not just deny the grace given him, he could be denying God!
CONTAGION
There are countless
instances of the Israelites complaining. The second example of their rancorous
nature, recorded straight after the first, shows us the grave infectiousness of
complaining (Num 11:4–6).
Not long after the
embers from God’s punishing fire had died, the non-Israelites that were with
the group—the “mixed multitudes”—began to yearn for the luxuries of Egypt. They
had no complaint about the sweltering heat or the dry and inhospitable land.
But these Gentiles bemoaned the lack of variety in the food that was being sent
to them directly from heaven. The Israelites, hearing the rising voices of
dissatisfaction from within their ranks, also joined in the outrage over the
manna that had for so long satisfied them. In melodramatic fashion, the
children of Israel wept bitterly, beating their breasts as they once more
insulted their God and the boundless grace that had bought them their liberty
and lives—for the sake of fish, cucumbers, melons, leeks, onion and garlic (Num
11:5). The entire nation of Israel was affected by the complaints started by a
small group of people.
With God guiding
them on their wilderness journey, the Israelites had much to rejoice about and
little to whine over. Admittedly, the wilderness was great and terrible; the
desert can be scorching in the day, and freezing at night. However, God
specially cared for them. He provided them with a pillar of cloud by day, to
shield them from the full heat of the sun. At night, He provided them with the
pillar of fire, to provide warmth. Ironically, they could see the pillar of
cloud and fire every day. But they did not see the grace of God which was right
before their eyes.
If we examine our own lives honestly, we know in our heart of hearts
that we, too, have much to rejoice about and little to whine over. The trouble
is that we are envious creatures, obsessed with comparing ourselves to others.
To make things worse, many of us enjoy sharing our troubles with others—not as
part of an effort to solve them or to find consolation, but to have others
affirm our grievances and support their legitimacy with choruses of approval.
This is an unhealthy habit that, while superficially harmless, can slowly make
us forget God’s grace in our lives. A single grumble can drown out praises of thanksgiving;
a small shadow of negativity can blind us to the light of grace that always
lights our way. It is for this reason that Paul instructs:
Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are
noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are
lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there
is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things. (Phil 4:8)
A LITTLE THING
But how exactly are
we to follow Paul’s exhortation? Keeping our heads and hearts sanctified seems
to be a tall order for the modern Christian, so plugged into the world and all
that it has to offer, both good and bad. If complaining is a bad habit, then we
would need to adopt good habits to overcome its insidious nature. One effective
habit would be to take a short moment every day, in the calm of the morning or
the lull of the evening, to remember one good thing that has happened recently
or a blessing in your life that has gone unappreciated for a while. This habit
is as timeless as the instructive hymn Count Your Blessings because it is an
exceedingly simple thing to do, yet so powerful and life-altering. The goal of
a grateful faith, and the antidote to complaining, is not to invent great and
fantastical events to be attributed to Providence, but to find the miraculous
in the mundane, and to be thankful for it.
WANDERING HEARTS
We have seen the way
a hard heart murmurs, and we have seen how quickly and mercilessly complaints
can spread. As we follow the Israelites’ journey to Canaan, we see the
consequences of a hard heart.
Hard hearts are lost
hearts. This is the terse and tragic lesson that the Israelite story teaches.
Hard hearts belong to people who no longer truly believe in God’s grace and
will for their lives, simply because they do not wish to believe.
What could have
persuaded the ancient Hebrews that God was truly on their side? That the Red
Sea was parted by a prayer was not enough. That pillars of cloud and fire
guarded their sleep and steered their steps was not enough. That manna from the
heavens delivered itself at their feet was not enough. Miracle after miracle, grace
upon grace—yet nothing could quell the rebellion that insisted on remaining in
their hearts. Maybe miracles are too fleeting. Perhaps that is the funny thing
about great and powerful interventions from God: they make for edifying
testimonies and awe-inspiring anecdotes, but in the hustle-and-bustle of our
daily struggles, they are easily put aside and forgotten.
Even so, God had
also demonstrated His unfailing love for them in the small things. From
chapters 1 to 10 of Numbers, we read of the Creator preparing everything for
the Israelites, including the most specific minutiae regarding their assembly,
their leadership and their rituals. Everything was planned for them, down to
the last detail.
Still, God’s actions
could not move the Israelites to true thanksgiving. Instead, they yielded to
their “intense craving” (Num 11:4) and protested God’s directions. They
rejected God’s rule because, from their perspective, all that there was in the
wilderness was suffering. But, in fact, God’s intention was to humble and test
them, to do them good in the end (Deut 8:16).
A THAW WE MUST WORK FOR
How are we to thaw a
heart long hardened? Or, for that matter, how are we to guard against hardening
in the first place? What is most obvious in the Israelites’ gradual decline is
that they developed a habit of giving in to their temptations. Their sin was
never that they longed for better things; it is only natural for man to feel
discontent from time to time. What began as mere longing quickly became
resentment and, finally, remonstrations of anger as they directed blame at
their Redeemer—a deterioration made possible only because they loved their
temptations more than they loved God.
Christianity does
not call for a radically ascetic or monastic way of life. Yet, to be able to
stand righteous and pure before God we have to struggle with the temptations we
will invariably meet, and the best way to kill temptation is to starve it.
Practically speaking, this means that every time we find ourselves in a
compromising situation that threatens our spiritual integrity, which will
burden our conscience and distress the Holy Spirit within us, we have to
emphatically start with defiance. To defy temptation, and not enter into it, is
the first critical step. We must pray for the strength to resist (Mt 6:13;
26:41). Secondly, it is important that we run away from our lusts, and avoid
any situation where we could be tempted (2 Tim 2:22)—for example, choosing not
to attend a party where we know drinking, dancing, and sinful activities will
take place.
Once we have taken
these steps, it is easier to make a stand for God and finally relegate past
temptations to a distant memory, replaced by a disciplined commitment to our
Christian values.
CONCLUSION
“What do I really need?”
There are no easy
answers. At the peak of our success, we may jubilantly give thanks for all of
God’s blessings, feeling so fulfilled that we cannot conceive of ever having
been in want or in need of anything. Yet these are fleeting moments that never
quite last long enough for us to understand what true contentment is. In a
world of unending hyper-consumerism that rewards the greedy so richly, it is
difficult for a Christian to grasp what Jesus meant when He said: “But seek
first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be
added to you” (Mt 6:33). The corporation, the student, and the banker know only
the contentment that the world teaches them; they learn that to be content is
to have all their needs and desires satiated. The Christian must learn
differently: being content is ultimately not about satisfying ourselves, it is
about satisfying God. This is a demanding call. It is also a most necessary
one. For the only honest reply the assured Christian can give to the question
above— “What do I really need?”—is “God.”