Manna

Growing up in the church, I spent plenty of Sundays learning all the stories in the Bible, the different problems they were faced with and all the different ways the people reacted. My mother would always tell me I had the patience of Job, and I remember thinking as a little kid why on earth she would compare me to that man. I didn't lose a bunch of camels, sheep and money. I was sick quite a bit as a young child, though, and perhaps there is the parallel. Relating to the scriptures is the best way to learn them, at any age.

In church, we typically had the same teacher every Sunday, as long as the calling would last. Some days we would have a substitute, and the Primary leaders would give them a small treat, like a roll of Lifesavers candy. (The person volunteering to substitute is the "lifesaver.") One Sunday our substitute was teaching us about the law of consecration. I have since learned that it's more or less the perfected version of communism, where everyone helps out everyone else by sharing what they have and distributing wealth equally. Our teacher explained it simply as being willing to share everything we have with the Lord and each other. We were only ten years old, after all; we didn't need to go into the politics of it. 

Anyway, after our lesson, our teacher was handed a roll of Lifesavers candy. I promptly leaned over to her and said, "Remember the law of consecration!" Her lips parted, as if as if to protest, when it hit her just how well her lesson had sunk in. Raising an eyebrow and smirking at us, she opened the roll and handed each of us one colored, fruity-flavored "o." Of course I only wanted to point it out because it would benefit me; if I was the one with the roll of Lifesavers, I would have been very upset if someone had whispered that same thing to me. But I like to believe I've learned a few things in the decade or so since this lesson and that I would be willing to do just what our teacher did for us.

Another Bible story that has always struck me as rather odd is the time when the children of Israel stumbled across some venomous snakes. Moses fashions a serpent of brass and puts it on his staff. (This is where the two snakes with wings wrapped around a staff that you see in medical institutions comes from, by the way.) All the Israelites have to do if they get bit by a snake is look at the staff Moses is holding. I remember thinking, "That's so easy! Who wouldn't do that, even if they were skeptical?" But apparently if something is just too easy, people won't even try it. Lots of Israelites died that day. 

Of course, there's all sorts of symbolism in these stories, too. Later I learned that Moses' staff represented Christ, and how we must all look unto Him so as to be born again spiritually. Christ conquered death so that we can live again. I've found that seeking Christ in my life isn't easy; maybe I'm missing the same thing those Israelites missed when they refused to look at the staff.

I used to think the Israelites were pretty whiny when I first learned about them. They got free bread from heaven every day--a manna miracle every day--and all they did was complain about it. Recently I had a little insight of my own into the mind of those Israelites. There is a government program for poor children and pregnant women, called WIC, that provides free food based on your income. My little one gets a free allotment of milk, a few types of whole grain cereals, dry beans, cheese, fruit juice, bread and eggs. When I was pregnant, I also received free food--staples, like those listed above. I have caught myself thinking, "I am so tired of eating this boring food. It's the same thing every day--milk and cereal, cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs." 

So, clearly, it is possible to think just like an Israelite. True, my food doesn't just appear on my doorstep every morning, but it might as well. Yet here I am, taking it for granted. I guess I shouldn't be so quick to judge others complaints, now that I've had a similar experience. At least I get a little variety, and hopefully I won't have to eat this way for another 40 years.

Who knew the Bible, as old as it is, could still be so relevant?