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The passage discusses the story of forgetting and neglect in Psalm 106. It mentions the Israelites' dissatisfaction with manna and their cravings for other foods. It also talks about Moses' privileged upbringing as an Egyptian prince and his rebellion against his own people. The passage highlights Moses' role as an intercessor and mediator between God and the Hebrews. It mentions the Hebrews' disobedience, their creation of a golden idol, and Moses' anger leading to consequences for him. It also explores the theme of God's faithfulness and compassion towards his people, despite their unfaithfulness. The passage ends by mentioning the hardships faced by the Hebrews in the desert and God's response to their cries for help. In Psalm 106, the story of forgetting, of neglect and abandonment of the most high unfurls verse by verse. Their faithfulness is overshadowed by God's faithfulness. God listening to their distaste of manna fresh baked every day, bred to satisfy a body but with no bodily pleasure. Who wants to forget the taste of greens or fresh cucumbers and tomatoes in the summer? Who can do without the remembrance of seafood, steak, fresh strawberries or blueberries? We understand wants and cravings of sweet teas, grandmama's dressing, crab cakes, and limoncello sorbet on a 95 degree day in August in sweltering Virginia. Who would not crave the sight of red, gold, and amber leaves spiraling down on a cool fall afternoon in summer? Our eyes crave green leaves and evergreen trees and thunder and lightning and rain, a drizzle or a downpour. Are we surprised the Israelites were jealous of Moses, charmed at birth to survive birth and then adopted by Pharaoh's daughter, raised in an Egyptian palace as an Egyptian prince, pampered, polished, and positioned between two worlds. His Hebrew family, slave family of origin and the rulers of Egypt. Then one day, this Hebrew boy, son of Jacobite, identified with his mother and father's kin, blood being thicker than water, and rebelled against his privilege and power. For one brief moment, Moses dared to stand in solidarity with a Hebrew. The Pharaoh's adopted grandson channeled power of the Egyptian empire in his body. He claimed that power to take life, the life of someone oppressing a Hebrew. He took power and he closed his ears to any words, chanted, whispered, and he thought, I can't breathe. Moses, the Egyptian prince, a murderer, now a fugitive, a man with a magic staff, is now the friend of God. Who wouldn't be jealous of him? Friend, foe, truth-teller, or magician, or imposter? They had to stand outside the tent while Moses and Aaron passed a long hearsay of God's comments and commands. The Hebrews are again separated from their God, excluded from the inner circle, not counted among those favored and chosen by God. Thou shall have no graven image. They cast God's image in gold, something to see, to touch, to glimmer in the sunlight, while Moses is off on another trek to the mountain. Break one commandment, break 10. Rebellious children vying for a parent's attention, negative action to get attention, any attention. If you hit me, at least I'll know you love me, that kind of attention. Moses adds intercessor and mediator to his role as God's confidant. Then, one day, the same kind of anger Moses loosed in the desert rises up in his body. A staff, a rod, and water, and Meribah are payback, perhaps, for Moses' lack of trust in God. Strike once for God's glory. Strike twice out of impatience and arrogance. Strike three, no promised land for Moses. Did the people lose hope and faith in God's covenant with the descendants of Abraham? Did their new song, eat, drink, and be merry, become their happy tune? Yahweh, like a rejected lover, kindled his anger against his people and applauded his heritage. He loves me, he loves me not. Rejection is a two-way street. How Yahweh must have mourned the faithlessness of his children. Forgive and forget and deliver them once, twice, three times their lover. An overabundance of rescue, deliverance, faithfulness, and steadfast love. Yahweh turning back again and again to humankind, giving wise counsel with no response, moving the sea for his beloved with only temporary thanks and constant requests of more, more, more. Reminds me of toxic charity, giving people what they need for a day. Potted meat, Vienna sausage, crackers, canned soup, enough to keep you from dying, not enough to help you stand on your own two feet. Is that what tired, hungry Hebrews wanted? Did they want to stand on their own two feet, pull themselves up by their sandal straps, show their independence from the God of Moses and Aaron? The Hebrews could not be true to this God they met in a desert, two generations in the wilderness. Was Shepherd and Pua on the trek, keeping babies alive all those years? Birthing babies at the same rate as when they were in Egypt? How does a mother birth a baby in a dusty desert with a tent for shelter? Was it the women wailing for water and meat so their milk would come in, and they could feed their newborn and toddlers still nursing on their breast? Nevertheless, he recorded their distress when he heard their cry. He'll hear our famous cry and he'll answer by and by. Mothers bringing their crying, sick, malnourished babies to the tent. Babies and mothers wailing in the wilderness. Your first breath, your first cry of life fills your lungs with dust. God remains faithful and remembered his covenant and showed compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love.