1Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho, and the LORD showed him the whole land: Gilead as far as Dan, 2all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah as far as the Western Sea, 3the Negeb, and the Plain—that is, the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees—as far as Zoar. 4The LORD said to him, "This is the land of which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying, 'I will give it to your descendants'; I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not cross over there." 5Then Moses, the servant of the LORD, died there in the land of Moab, at the Lord's command. 6He was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Beth-peor, but no one knows his burial place to this day. 7Moses was one hundred twenty years old when he died; his sight was unimpaired and his vigor had not abated. 8The Israelites wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days; then the period of mourning for Moses was ended.

9Joshua son of Nun was full of the spirit of wisdom, because Moses had laid his hands on him; and the Israelites obeyed him, doing as the LORD had commanded Moses.

10Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face. 11He was unequaled for all the signs and wonders that the LORD sent him to perform in the land of Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his servants and his entire land, 12and for all the mighty deeds and all the terrifying displays of power that Moses performed in the sight of all Israel.

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So I was at the presbytery meeting in San Antonio the past two days. Inge and Pam attended with me. And I think I can speak for all three of us that we were blessed to be there. There was of course the usual business, that can approach the excitement level of getting a root canal. But most of it was a beautiful experience, filled with the Holy Spirit tapping you on your shoulder moments. I know, at a presbytery meeting. who-da thunk it?

One of those moments came when a man from Pennsylvania got up to talk about some new initiative to grow churches. And my prejudice came out in full force as I thought, "oh great, another person from a mega-church who's going to try to sell me a program that will transform our small church into a vibrant, bursting-at-the-seams, Spirit-filled congregation in 6 simple steps for only 19.95." So instead I pulled out my packet and began reading about the ammendments we'll be voting on at the next presbytery.

But I sat up and started listening when he asked this simple question. "What are you praying for God to do in your congregation?" What are we praying for God to do in our congregation? And I thought about that for a while. And the answers I came up with, I thought were probably not the answers that inspired the founders of this church to charter a new church in Copperas Cove, Texas. The answers I came up with were, "Lord, please show us a way not to die." "Lord please send us some more people." "Lord, please help us balance our budget."

What are you praying for God to do in your congregation? I've struggled with this question, because I think it reveals my own lack of faith. I know it reveals that I'm too afraid to hope for something amazing for fear that I'll be seriously disappointed. What are you praying for God to do in our congregation?

Today in our lectionary, we read what on the surface looks a whole lot like an obituary. We are gathered here today to remember our friend Moses, a servant of the Lord, unequaled in character and the signs the Lord sent him to display. And the people set aside 30 days to mourn him before they enter the promised land. After all, what's another 30 days when they've been wandering for 40 years? So at the end of Deuteronomy we pause for a moment to reflect upon the man who delivered the people from their bondage in Egypt, who put up with their grumbling, and whining about being hungry--God says, "here, I'll rain manna down from heaven every night--they whine about being thirsty, here, Moses, hit the rock with your staff and out gushes water. They whine "we're tired of eating manna! can't we have some meat for once?" And God rains down quail the next day for them. They complain that Moses is up on the mountain too long so they make another leader and god by melting down their jewelry into a golden calf. Moses was probably driven to his death in this chapter by this stiff-necked people, as God called them. 40 years putting up with their whining and complaining.

I sometimes wonder why it took 40 years for them to cross the desert, but I think it took them that long to be transformed from the slaves they were in Egypt, people who'd had no power themselves, and transformed into a freed, liberated, strong people. Anyone who watches Dr. Phil knows that people don't change their attitudes overnight. It took this people 40 years. 2 generations.

They spent 40 years trying to learn just one simple thing--to trust God and God alone,for food, for water, for security, for meat, for direction, for purpose and meaning--after spending 40 years trying to get the hang of this one lesson, today, they stand at the edge of the promised land.

The answer to all their prayers. But I wonder, if a few, or many, or all of them, wondered, as they gazed into that land, already filled with people who probably weren't going to just step aside and say, "well we've been waiting for you for 40 years, what took you so long?! here's your promised land." I wonder if they looked over their shoulder behind them and thought to themselves, "We'd be better off back where we came from. It'll be a lot easier back there in the desert." If you remember, they said the same thing not long after they left Egypt. O Moses, can we please just go back to Egypt?!

This day they might have been thinking "It's not like we're not thoroughly familiar with the desert. We know how to gather manna. We won't have to step out into this promised land and hope it all wasn't for naught that we came this far just to die at the hands of all those people down there. Maybe it would be better if we just didn't hope to conquer this whole valley so we won't be disappointed when we don't. Maybe it would be just as nice to stay in the desert, and die here like Moses. After all, isn't it enough of a miracle that we came out of Egypt? Isn't it enough that we had that great parting of the Red Sea event? Isn't it enough that we survived 40 years in a desert? Isn't it enough that our leader spoke with God, face to face, on Mt. Sinai? Isn't all that enough for us to be able to die satisfied?

I think stepping out of the desert, into the Promised Land must have been the greatest step of faith the Israelites ever took. Would God really give this land to them? Had they truly understood the stories their parents and grandparents had told them? What if they hadn't paid enough attention in school and got it wrong, and led one another into a bloodbath? What if they expected too much of God, I mean, hadn't God done plenty already, taking them out of Egypt?

40 years is a long time to spend learning how to trust in God and God alone. And now Moses was dead. And they had a choice to make, would they step out and enter this valley, filled with people who wouldn't be too keen on them being there? Or would they step back and say, the desert is just fine. The manna doesn't really taste all that bad. It's a lot easier, anyway, just to keep doing what we've been doing, following this cloudy pillar every day than to step out in faith and take this entire valley.

When they left Egypt, they left behind their identity as slaves. After wandering around in the desert for 40 years, now they would have to leave behind their identity as nomads. After wandering around for 40 years, they would have to interact with other cultures, other groups of people, and distinguish themselves as the people of God. After wandering around for 40 years, with Moses, they would have to follow this young Joshua's leadership. Who was he? Could they trust him? After wandering around in the desert for 40 years, everything was now going to change, again. Now that they'd just gotten the hang of living day by day, they'd now have to plan farther ahead than just tomorrow's gathering of manna. They'd have to discern the best course of action for entering this land. They'd have to start making decisions, and they might make bad ones. They did, indeed, we read, make bad ones. After 40 years of desert transformation, God was asking them to do it all over again.

Can you see the predicament they're in, up there on the mountain, gazing at the promised land, mourning Moses' death? Wondering if they should go down there at all?

Can you see the promised land from here? What do you see outside our church doors? Do you see the promised land? Do you see a town filled with 30 thousand people, eager for a word of hope, a word of courage, a word reminding them that God is here, in the flesh, in the Spirit, in Word and Sacrament right before our eyes? Or do you see a crumbling parking lot? Do you see a tombstone with the names of the faithful who have died before us? Do you see a whole lot of work, and we are so few, and it's a lot easier just to keep doing what we've been doing, than to step out and do something entirely different, be something entirely different?

Who do you feel like? Are you feeling like Moses, tired to death of all the squabbling and the committees and mission statements and presbytery meetings and so tired you only need to glimpse the promised land and you could die a peaceful death? Or are you feeling like Joshua, believing in God's promise to Abraham, "That I will be your God and you will be my people." Are you believing in this promise that our founding members of this church kept alive the past 40 years: God saying to us "I will be your God and you will be my people."

Because that's the promise that this church was founded upon. That's the inspiration for the founding of this church. I will be your God and you will be my people in Copperas Cove. That's the promise that the founders of this congregation were such great stewards of. Because ultimately, we are stewards not of our time or money, but only of this promise: to be God's people, wherever we find ourselves.

The founders of this church found themselves in Copperas Cove so they staked their time, and money, and energy on that one promise, to be God's people here, and trusted in God alone. We can't trust in our own effort. We can't trust in our own intelligence or imagination. We can't trust in our own initiative. We can't even trust in our own faith. Because it will never be enough. We can only trust in God and God will always show us the next step before us.

Do you see the promised land before us? Because God has laid it at our feet. What do you see out there? Let me tell you what I see. I see people in this congregation leaving this building and being disciples to their friends during very difficult times. I see people in this congregation caring for the elderly. I see people in this congregation gathering food each week, during this economic crisis, to send to the people at Cove House.

Pull out your budgets, if you have them with you, because I see the promised land in this budget that session has prepared. I see on this budget a line item for benevolence to the Presbyterian Church. Do you know where that goes? That money goes to support missionaries in Central America and Asia. That money goes to the Presbyterian Hunger Program that works with food banks across the US. That money goes to the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance that as we speak is working in south Texas and the Houston Area after hurricanes devastated communities this summer. That money goes to create curriculum for children and adults, in English, Spanish, and Korean.

That is the promised land, ready for us to enter in faith. Look at another line item, marked Local Missions. That's a new item for our budget. This congregation has individuals who have faithfully given money to the Cove House through this church. And our session this year decided it was not enough for individuals to give to Cove House. It was not enough for us simply to pass along a check to Cove House when a few people asked us to. We needed to step out in faith, and include donations to local missions in our congregation's budget. The session wanted our budget to reflect that this is important to us, not just individually, but as a congregation. So we included a pledge to local missions that will be in addition to whatever checks you send them individually. This is the promised land I see, right here, numerically, on our budget.

Can you see this promised land? Can you see the ministries the committees have envisioned, just a few faithful people sitting around a table in the fellowship hall, asking a simple question, "how can we be God's people here in Copperas Cove?"

We are stewards of nothing else but a promise: to be God's people in this place. Our founding members of this church were stewards of this same promise, and have entrusted this promise to us. Schlepping it across the desert. And we stand at the edge of this promised land. I know we are tired after a long, hard walk through what has seemed a lot like a desert. I know we are dwindling in numbers. I know we are lagging in enthusiasm. I know we are scared to ask too much for fear we will only have more work to do, or worse yet, that we'll be disappointed. What's keeping us from forging ahead?

Are you thinking it's just easier to stay here, in the desert, keep on wandering? Is it just easier to say, thanks but no thanks on this promised land? Would we prefer to stay wanderers than to have God transform us, ever so slowly over generations and generations, into a vibrant, trusting, Spirit-filled people?

Stan Ott's question to us on Friday haunts me. What are we praying for God to do in our congregation? Please help us balance this budget? Please help us keep this building from falling down around us? What are we praying for God to do in our congregation, in this community of Copperas Cove, Texas?

Will you pray with me:

Faithful God, Help us to be stewards of your promise for this and the next generations.

Faithful God, Please replace our fatigue with enthusiasm.

Faithful God, Please give us the courage to enter your promised land.