Pop quiz. Ready? What one event in the Old Testament had to happen the way it did or else you don’t get the whole rest of the Old Testament? If you said the exodus from Egypt across the Red Sea, go to the head of the class. (Your prize is an all-expense-paid sun-and-fun vacation to the sandy beaches of the kingdom of Iraq.) Passing from death to life through the waters was for the children of Israel THE big moment that defined everything else. It is the new birth of Israel that they couldn’t bring about by their own power: God had to do it for them. The exodus experience was a coming out, of sorts, a journey through the birth canal of the Red Sea: the waters broke and a people were born. They changed from that moment on from being slaves of Pharaoh, pent up in the cramped confines of Egypt’s amniotic sack, to being wide-eyed free children of God in the wide-open spaces of a world they now knew was full of wonders because it was full of God.

This is the Old Testament version of Jesus being raised from the dead and the church being born because of it. Passing from death to life through the waters of baptism in Jesus' name is the new birth of freedom without which we would have no New Testament. The church was born after Jesus' exodus from the grave. We joined him and became a new definition of a worldwide spiritual Israel that teaches the world what it really means to be free.

But there I go—getting ahead of myself, giving conclusions before leading you through the story. Let’s back up and pick up with Israel at the point of our text today.

They have made it as far as the Red Sea. It’s probably taken them awhile, considering there are about 600,000 men, not counting women, large children and small animals. And they are traveling heavy: the Egyptians gave them gold and silver trinkets to hasten them on their way after the plagues had worn them down. Almost makes it sound like they were going off to college and had a mother, like my daughter’s, who sent them packing with half her possessions and mine as a parting gift. Truth is, they probably lifted the loot on their way out the door. The text uses the word plundered. Either way, they have their hands full.

And then there are the bones of Joseph that have to be carted along. Moses insisted on keeping the promise that Joseph would be buried with his fathers in the old country. But we’re not talking about a sack of bones here; we’re talking full-blown mummy. When the Egyptians embalmed you, you knew you were embalmed. Sarcophagus and all, don’t you know?! Can’t you just see it? Pallbearers traipsing through the wilderness, casket on their shoulders, looking for a water break every twenty minutes and secretly wishing they could just dump the body and move on. Which is what we all want to do with the parts of our past we carry with us that weigh us down and slow us up. But what we discover, if we are patient enough, is that the dead weight chained to our back bears a promise of the future with it, too. Joseph somehow knew they would go home one day, and they clung to that hope by clinging to his corpse.

Well, Pharaoh soon changes his mind. He’s finally let the people go after his own son died in the final plague when the angel of death passed through Egypt and didn’t pass over the palace. Tyrants can order the death of thousands of other people’s children and find a way to sleep at night, but just let grief touch their own family, and the rage that follows is unrelenting. Once Pharaoh wakes up from his stupor, he sends the troops after those lying Hebrew slaves.

So now they feel surrounded. They are trying to find a place to cross over the sea, but they’ve got no boats or bridges. The Egyptians have got their full war paint on, and the Israelites can hear them coming. They figure they’ve got no chance.

Ever been in a place like that in your life? Lost your job and can’t figure how to move forward? Meanwhile the creditors are nipping at your heels. How do you feel? Surrounded. (Let’s learn a new liturgy: I’ll say How do you feel? and you look down and mumble Surrounded.) The test results are positive. You’ve always found a way to handle everything that came your way. Now you’ve got no strength left in you. Your genes or your bad habits have finally caught up with you, and you don’t see any way forward. How do you feel? Surrounded. You made some bad decisions when you were young and you’re paying the price for them now. Didn’t study enough and didn’t see the point, or got pregnant and had to drop out of school, or married someone you’ve finally had the courage to leave after being made to feel a slave for years. But you don’t get far before the past catches up. How do you feel? Surrounded.

And you are. But not the way you think. Just when you think you are surrounded by death, new life breaks in. Just when you think the forces of hell surround you, the God of heaven fights for you. You are surrounded, all right, but surrounded by a grace you didn’t deserve, couldn’t see, and wouldn’t have imagined. You find that there is a love that rules your life and guides your way, a love so unexpected and yet so real it takes your breath away. It’s a love that fights for you fiercely and will not let you go until you are free. And not even then.

I am struck by the accounts of people who have gone through some of the worst times in their lives, times when they felt the world was closing in on them or that they were at their end. Over time they find their way forward, and the most amazing thing to me is how often they say that they wouldn’t have the life they had before the trial for anything in the world. Actor Michael J. Fox has had Parkinson’s disease for about a decade now. When he was first diagnosed, he thought his life was over. What he found was that the part of his life that was over was the part that needed to be over. He was living a self-absorbed life, without the gratitude for little things he knows today. Ask him if his illness has been a bad thing or a good thing. A good thing, he would say. Go figure. Same for a young woman Kathleen Norris tells about in her book Amazing Grace. The young scholar had fought cancer and been in and out of remission, close to dying three times. I’d never want to go back, because now I know what each morning means, and I am so grateful just to be alive. … [It’s] been a blessing! (Riverhead, 1998: 12-13.)

Right. But before you can arrive at that, you have to go through the fear and the worry and the pain and the helplessness of things, so that you can discover how God is faithful. When the Israelites see and hear the army of Egypt coming and the sea blocking their way, they cry out to Moses: What? There weren’t enough graves in Egypt that we should come out here in the wilderness to die? This is our first reaction in times like those, isn’t it? Moses lays the faith matter right on the table. Fear not, he says. Fear not, stand firm, be still, and see that God fights for you.

Have faith is what he is saying. But this reminds me of the Hasidic tale of a woman who went to Belzer Rebbe asking his help through prayer. He asked whether she had sufficient faith. Said she: In the Torah it is written that God first rescued Israel and that they then believed. (Cited in The Torah: A Modern Commentary, W. Gunther Plaut, ed. [Union of American Hebrew Congregations, p. 486.) Indeed. That is just what God does. Faith is a response to what God has done, not a reward for what we have done.

All this while on their journey God has been leading them with a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. Now that the cavalry is getting closer, the angel of God moves the cloud from the front to the rear, protecting the children of Israel from the part of the past that would bury them. Then God tells Moses to stretch out his staff over the waters. This he does. All night long. An east wind blows hard as he and his people stand firm and stand still, waiting upon the Lord. Sometimes this is all the faith God asks and all we can muster. By daybreak they see the way forward they could not see in the nighttime of their fear. And then God says, What are you waiting for? Get a move on. You have places to go. So they step out into the sea on dry ground. And even there, the waters threaten on their right and left. They know they are still surrounded, but now they move as though it is God that is surrounding them with great power, carrying them to life.

This too is faith—standing still and moving on. They move forward in the sea, believing that God is at work protecting them and delivering them, no matter the danger that lurks on all sides. God is above them, in front of them, and behind them—surrounding them, even though they cannot see God at any moment. Faith is acting as if God is fighting for you, rescuing you, and opening a future for you, even when you cannot see it.

The story is told of a holy man who lived in a remote place and received a delivery of milk from a maid every few days. He had become annoyed that she would show up so late in the day, throwing off his schedule of prayers. One day he asked her why she was always late. She said that she had to walk far out of her way to cross a bridge in order to make it to his hut. Well, why don’t you just walk across the water, then? he said. It would be much faster. From then on the milkmaid was never late. After a time the holy man became curious and asked her why she was now arriving so much earlier. Well, I did as you said I should, she answered. I simply walk across the river on the top of the water. The holy man was stunned. He asked to go with her and watch her do this, believing that if someone like this young girl could walk on water, surely a holy man like him could. As they came to the crossing place, the milkmaid stepped into the river and walked directly to the other side, where she turned to watch the holy man as he slowly gathered up his robe to above his knees and waded into the water, sinking with every step. The girl ran to save him, and when he was safely on the shore, he asked what went wrong. Well, sir, you said you believed you could walk across the water, but you gathered up your robe so as not to get the hem wet. (Cited by Carol M. Noren, Pulpit Resource 30.3 [July-September 2002]: 48.)

Is that faith? Here’s the thing we learn: God is the one who does things we cannot do for ourselves, but we are called to live as though it is so. God saves, but we have to live as saved people. God parts the waters, but we have to walk into them in order to experience the miracle of it. God gives faith, but we have to exercise it.

But there’s one more thing God gives. God gives us a future, but God also takes away the power of the past to threaten us. God know which bridges to build and which to burn. When God closes the waters over the Egyptians and Israel sees their dead bodies wash up on the shore, they know. They know that nothing, not even the powers of the past, can separate them from the love of God. If that is so, then I ask you again, and this time in full voice with eyes cast upward, how do you feel? Surrounded. Surrounded by God