The land you are entering to take over is not like the land of Egypt, from which you have come, where you planted your seed and irrigated it by foot as in a vegetable garden. But the land you are crossing the Jordan to take possession of is a land of mountains and valleys that drinks rain from heaven.
Deuteronomy 11:10-11 (NIV)
It’s not even Christmas and our driveway has required shoveling more times already than a few entire winters of recent memory. Last weekend Wendy and I were driving through a snow storm.
“Well, the farmers will be happy,” Wendy said.
That is such an Iowa thing to say. When you live in a state that drives nearly $50 billion dollars in annual revenue from crop production, agriculture is always part of the conversation. But for children of Iowa, it’s more than just money. We know that the fertile fields of Iowa feed the world. Closer to home and hearth, we know that farming is the life-blood and legacy of families.
Growing up in Iowa, you quickly learn that weather isn’t just about comfort or recreation, it’s an essential element of life, provision, and prosperity.
On a macro level, Moses’ words to the Hebrews crossing into the Promised Land in today’s chapter are about the blessings of love, legacy, and loyalty contrasted with the curses of apathy, forgetfulness, and hearts that wander. Right in the middle of the chapter (ancient Hebrew writers loved to put the most important bits in the center of the text), is a fascinating reference. Meteorology as metaphor: rain.
Back in Egypt, Moses reminds his people, water had to be industrially stored and channeled. Irrigation systems required. Humans digging, tunneling, manufacturing ways to make water work for them—that’s human empire. Human ingenuity finding ways to do what God does naturally by divine means. Humans have been doing that since the Tower of Babel.
The Promised Land, Moses tells his children, is God’s country. It is a land God Himself waters with rain from heaven. Rain is God’s blessing on the land and the people. God’s blessing, however, requires…
Faith, not function
Trust, not contraptions
Love, not labor.
This is God through Moses laying another layer of metaphor to lovingly communicate what He’s been saying all along. I’ve chosen and called you to be different than this world and the kingdoms of this world. Not because you deserve it or earned it but because of my love, grace, and mercy. Love me, trust me, follow me and rain will fall from heaven and you will be blessed with abundance and prosperity you can scarcely imagine.
Then comes the hard side of love. It isn’t punishment, it’s consequence.
There is a consequence, a curse, that comes if love, trust, and fidelity fade and fail. The skies close up. Drought conditions set in. At some point things resort back to the function, labor, and contraptions. When that happens, God’s people will be just like all the other kingdoms of this world.
The message I found flowing through the chapter in the quiet this morning was that the danger is not rebellion or disobedience. The danger is forgetting. Moses’ mantra thus far in his deathbed message has been the steady rhythmic beat of Zakhor: remember, remember, remember. Remembering what God has done is the crucial first step and activating ingredient in Life and blessing. Forgetting leads down a very different path.
“Believe me,” Moses urges his children, “you don’t want to go there.”
In a little divine wink, I’ve been hearing waves of heavy rain hitting the window of my office as I’ve been writing these words. I pulled up the radar. It’s a chilly Iowa winter morning, but well above freezing. A heavy rain is melting the snow from last weekend’s storm and soaking the slumbering earth.
In coffee shops all over Iowa, farmers sitting patiently through the death of winter and looking to the promise of Spring are smiling. A soaking winter rain. It’s a good thing. Gotta love it. But, it’s not a guarantee. Gotta have faith, too. Spring is still a long season away.
Rain is a gift.
So is remembering.
And faith, like spring, is something we wait for—but also something for which we prepare.
If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.
