Going Out, Going Forward

“Go up to a land flowing with milk and honey; but I will not go up among you, or I would consume you on the way, for you are a stiff-necked people.” (Exodus 33:3)

Recently, during my morning devotional time, I found myself once again drawn to the story of the Exodus. The story details God’s sovereign love to save his people from slavery and ruin.  It’s a story that continues to resonate deeply, especially in times like ours—times of transition, uncertainty, and hope. The Exodus is more than a historical account; it’s a spiritual journey that mirrors our own. There seems to be so much of our faith that is tied up in the narrative of the exodus. The time before, the time during, and the time after. I find the story fascinating because it focuses on the relational aspects of God’s character while showing God’s ability to be sovereign. It’s about leaving behind what enslaves us and stepping into something new, even when the path ahead is unclear.

What strikes me most is how the story reveals God’s relational nature. God is presented both as Yahweh in a relationship with God’s people and as Lord who is the divine force who created the heavens and the earth. Going out of darkness, despair, and pain into something new full of light, love, and most importantly life. There is a time when the people have nothing to give them direction other than promises that they cling to in hope. There seems to be more adversity than achievement in many parts of the narrative of the Exodus. And yet, for the leaders, they continue to listen to God.

One of my favorite moments is captured in the verse above. It comes at a pivotal point: just after the people have turned away from God by creating a golden calf, and just before God renews the covenant with them. In this in-between moment, God speaks to Moses on Mount Sinai. The promise remains: “Go up to a land flowing with milk and honey.” It is not that milk and honey are so special that God needs to promise these elements to the people. It’s not about the literal milk and honey—it’s about the image of abundance, of a life filled with goodness and provision.

But then comes the tension: “But I will not go up among you.” God’s presence is withheld—not out of abandonment, but out of mercy. “For you are a stiff-necked people.” That phrase still hits home. We are often stubborn, quick to forget the good, and quicker still to dwell on the bad. I imagine God saying, “I love you, but you’re not listening.” It’s a moment of divine honesty.

And yet, the story doesn’t end there. Moses pleads for guidance, asking, “Who will go with me?” And God responds with a promise that still echoes today:

“My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” — Exodus 33:14

In 2025, this message feels more relevant than ever. We live in a world marked by division, anxiety, and rapid change. It’s easy to feel lost or overwhelmed. We want clarity, a roadmap, a guarantee. But often, all we’re given is a promise—and that promise is enough. God’s presence goes with us. And with that presence comes rest.

The war in Ukraine continues to escalate, with Russian forces claiming control over the entire Luhansk Oblast. Natural disasters have struck across continents—from deadly floods in Texas to a sea rig capsizing off Egypt’s coast. Political unrest continues, with leadership crises in Thailand and attacks in Pakistan. People are still starving in Gaza and Palestinians are being shot at as they reach for food.  The oppression the Israelites knew at the hands of the Egyptians and the reasons they fled are still present in the world. These events echo the chaos and uncertainty the Israelites faced, wandering through the desert with only a promise of a future hope to guide them. 

And yet, in the midst of this, faith communities are responding with resilience.

We as Christians can feel stuck, as if we can’t do anything to turn back the tides of adversity, turmoil, tragedy, and oppression—we cover all these inadequacies with statements of “thoughts and prayers.”  Yet, we cling to a future promise—a future hope. We believe that the goodness of God will prevail and in the end God’s reign will come on earth as it is in heaven.  This too will be a place of peace.

Our job is to present peace, to bring love, and to reconcile in unity.

We have seen action which represents this goodness in the world.  Churches throughout Texas organized in the wake of the deadly flood along the Rio Grande to support families and provide food.  At Davos 2025, religious leaders from everywhere gathered to discuss how spirituality can guide us through the age of global polarization often at the hands of Ai (artificial intelligence).  Pope Leo XIV, the newly appointed Pope, continues to express “deep sorrow” over the attacks on Gaza, and has stood beside many religious Bishops and leaders to call for “an immediate halt to the barbarity” in the Gaza Strip. Even churches are adapting—some planting anew, many reimagining their mission in a rapidly changing world.  God is still present and still is working through the actions, words, and hearts of those deeply invested in seeing something good happen in the world.

I know I can be a stubborn person, I know most people are in their own ways. It is hard to follow when we do not know the path. When things don’t go our way we only focus on the bad parts. We forget that we had good along the way. We want to know each step that we are to take; we want to know the terrain. Wouldn’t it be easier if God gave us a set of plans to read each day, telling us what will happen and how to respond? However, often all we get is a promise of hope. It is easy to stop moving forward and stay where we are at. To build upon the ground that is not yet what it is promised to be. We might even demand to know plans and ask; “who is going to go with me?”

I find the response of God important. God is there with us along the way, and our reward is rest. Our toils in this world are not easy, each step not fully known. When violence, pain, oppression, and anger are the marks of the land compassion seems to be the toil we are tasked with. Tasked to be people of love.

If you are struggling with something, someone, or some situation and are struggling to find the promises of God’s abundance know that you are not alone. Not alone, never alone. You walk with others that seek every day to find hope, life, and joy. You walk every day with the presence of God who desires good in our lives—always God’s presence goes with us to give us rest.  Let us be people who move forward, even when the way is unclear. Let us be people of compassion in a world that desperately needs it. And let us trust that God’s presence is with us, offering rest for the journey ahead.

-          Pastor Jon