"Out With The Old..."

Numbers 1-25

The adage, "Out with the old and in with the new," is one that takes a minute or two or three for many of us to get our mind around.  I have clothes that I simply cannot part with, furniture that is more hazardous to my body than trying to climb a tree, and friends that I know secretly wish for my misfortune.  But there is something about familiarity that comforts me and keeps me doing the same thing even if it is not in my best interest to continue to do so.  So too is the case when many Christians encounter our faith tradition and the sacred text.  As evidenced by the frequency of their appearance on this blog, I have a special affinity for the old Negro Spirituals.  They move me in ways the contemporary Gospel music does not.  It doesn't change the fact, however, that I am more left of center when it comes to my faith walk.  I, too, am often chided about my taste in Gospel music, although, I have found that when the music is heard again, it brings back fond memories of years past.

So yes, it is easier and more comfortable to continue down the same road.  We know the route, we know all the landmarks and nothing is different or changes.  The road becomes stale, dank and dusty with potholes of (mis)understanding and cracks of misinterpretation of the scriptures.  This is what I call "auto pilot Christianity."  Rather than delve deeper into our faith, utilizing our fully engaged mind, we walk into church and flip on the "auto pilot" switch, letting the preacher and the worship service take us down the same path the same way we went last week and the week before that and the week before that.  There are no new awakenings, no new sightings and experiences.  The same songs are sung and the same people get up and go on display (that is if you belong to one of those churches).  And if you do, you know exactly what I'm talking about. 

The problem with bringing our whole mind into the worship experience, however, is that we would have to admit to at least a few things; 1) The bible is not infallible, 2) The bible is not written in chronological order, and, in this case, 3) An individual by the name of "Moses" did not write the Pentateuch, rather - as scholars suggest - the first four books were compiled by a group of "Jerusalemite priests," during the Babylonian exile.  Believe it or not, I get it.  For many, letting go of the old, revamping tradition, is harder than throwing away an old comfortably worn out pair of jeans.  The operative word or phrase there is "worn out."  It is old, tired, outdated, antiquated, stultifying and repressive.

It appears this may have been the case for the first "wilderness" generation.  That is the generation that is reported to have endured extreme persecution in Egypt and fled into the wilderness.  They were the generation who lived through and gave us the stories of making bricks without straw, the plagues on Egypt, the mass exodus, the parting of the Red Sea, that mysterious food from heaven, and the establishment and set up of the Priesthood and the Tabernacle respectively.  They are also the generation that, surprisingly enough, was consistently disobedient to God.  Consequently, at the end of chapter 25, this entire generation dies and none of them (and we'll find out later, including Moses), is allowed to enter into the "Promised Land."

I don't know about you, but it seems to me that there could be an argument made here about tradition when it fails to remain faithful and relevant.  When tradition becomes so rigid in practice that it yields little to no ground for new, reinvigorating, rejuvenating energy, and ways of knowing and ways of being.  I mean for real, how much longer can we continue to go to church on those special "Holydays" and hear the same sermon that we've heard since we were children?  How much longer will we continue to sit, waiting for the moment when we can participate in the Black Church's tradition of "call and response," because we already know what the preacher is going to say?  Furthermore, the greatest reaction during the worship service is when the preacher manages to throw an unexpected twist into the story.  C'mon now... Where's the beef?!!

Like the first 25 chapters of Numbers, I am grateful for the experiences and sacrifices of those who have come before us.  I am grateful for the narratives that taught us "How [we] got over."  I am even grateful for the tradition that has brought us "thus far on the way."  But like the scripture informs us of Israel's lack of faith, that although they may have witnessed God's holiness and seen the signs of God's glory, "yet have tested [God] these ten times and have not obeyed [God's] voice" (Numbers 14: 1-24).  And again, like the writer's of the scriptures inform us, God is going to do a new thing.  S/HE, like the narrative of Numbers infers of Caleb, "because he has a different spirit and has followed me wholeheartedly," is calling forth a new socially, culturally, politically, religiously and spiritually conscious generation to take us into the next phase of our journey to the Promised Land (v.24). 

Are we there yet?  No.  Will we get there?  Yes, indeed we shall.  But we cannot and we will not get there, if we continue on the same course.  We must change our collective mind.  We need greater validation and prominence of women Pastors, more legitimacy of out lesbians and gays in the pulpits, theologians of every faith tradition, scholars and social critics, and spiritualist of every persuasion.  Then and only then will we be able to look back over the course of our life and testify in a new way of triumph over tragedy, liberation over persecution, of love over hate and sing a new song about, "How [we] got over!"

© Dorinda G. Henry, 2011

THEOLOGIA HABITUS EST!