I never got to meet my paternal grandfather, my dad’s dad. He died before I was born, but I feel like I know him. Stories were shared with me as I was growing up. I would be walking along a sidewalk curb, balancing on the edge and my dad would pipe up and tell me a story about what good balance his dad had. He could walk along a railroad rail for miles without losing his balance. What made this more amazing was that my grandfather did not have arms. An electrical accident had caused him to have his arms replaced with hooks. There were other stories that came out about my grandfather throughout the years.

I heard from my grandmother about how she met my grandfather at a dance. She told me about how they fell in love and began a life together. The result of hearing all these stories was that even though I never met him, I claim him as part of me. He is my ancestor.

I don’t think about all my ancestors on a regular basis but they are with me nonetheless. For good or for bad, they are a part of me. I’m not just talking about genetics but there is history there. My ancestors are my ancestors. They were not perfect but neither am I. Many of the stories told about them are funny but some are not. But they are part and parcel part of me.

This church gets requests ever so often from people who are looking for their ancestors. They know a little bit about a distant relative and are searching for more information. Sometimes we can help by finding a date of when they joined the church or maybe there was a story written down in one of the histories of the church. Other times there is no trace of their ancestors here and we send them on to search other places.

In Moses’ instructions to the people, he includes this section about remembering their ancestors. In what was to become an annual festival the people were to take part of the first fruits, the best fruits, and give it to the priests to dedicate to God. The first fruits were the best. You know when you taste that first tomato of the season. That sweetness and that feeling of the juice as it runs down your face. If you know that feeling then you have the idea about how good first fruits can be.

But it wasn’t enough for the people to simply bring this offering of fine first fruit. Moses included specific words for the people to say when they brought their offerings. "A wandering Aramean was my ancestor; he went down into Egypt and lived there as an alien, few in number, and there he became a great nation, mighty and populous. When the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, by imposing hard labor on us, we cried to the LORD, the God of our ancestors; the LORD heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm."

Did you notice some of the pronouns that were used there. The people bringing the offering were not the same individuals who were in Egypt. The people who came out of Egypt had been wandering around in the wilderness for 40 years and the Egypt generation had died off. The individuals who were bringing the offerings were the sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters of the people who were brought out of Egypt. These people were not alive to suffer under Pharaoh. But yet when they bring their offering, they say "the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction, our toil, and our oppression. The Lord brought us out of Egypt." Even though they were not there to witness the events in Egypt they claim that history as their own. It is a part of who they are.

The events of Egypt are not just past history for them but lived present. They are remembering in the present tense. When God acted in Egypt those many years ago, God was not just acting for those who were alive at that time but was acting for those who would come after as well.

These words and this annual ritual also serve as a reminder that it was not the action of the people that saved them from bondage in Egypt. When the people recite that it was "the Lord [who] brought us out of Egypt," they are in a sense saying, "we did not rescue ourselves." So, at least once a year the people were asked ritually to remember that they did not and indeed cannot rescue themselves. In essence they are to declare that they cannot go it alone.

Isn’t that what Jesus is tempted with too? To go it alone? Jesus is tempted with three things:

1. Make stones into bread to satisfy his own hunger – in short to gain strength.
2. To rule all the kingdoms of the world as his own – in short to gain power.
3. To throw himself off the Temple to show others how the angels protect him – in short to gain fame.

Strength, power, and fame. And all these things can belong to Jesus if he just depends upon himself – if he trusts in himself.

But in each of these instances Jesus refuses the temptation put before him. He refuses to depend only on himself. And the words he uses to refuse are not even his own words. He uses words of scripture to refuse. He uses God’s words to remind himself and the Tempter that even he cannot go it alone.

In our Western mentality we value individualism. For many, the story of America is about glorifying the people who were able to "pull themselves up by their own bootstraps." The history books I studied in school glorified people like Rockefeller and others who had a "rags to riches" story to tell. We still hear those stories told today. We seem to say about others, "Wow! Look at where they came from and look at what they were able to make of themselves."

But the scriptures do not hold up this idea of individualism. Indeed, the individual is nothing apart from the community. The Israelites when they brought their first fruits to the priests didn’t say, "Look at what I was able to grow all on my own. Aren’t I great?" No they were to remember that it was God who brought them to the land flowing with milk and honey. It was God who heard them crying out for mercy and lead them out of Egypt. It was God, not them.

Even Jesus, the one we stand up every Sunday and say that "We believe in Jesus Christ God’s only Son," Jesus cannot do it alone. Jesus leans upon the rich heritage he had as a Jewish man. That rich heritage included this idea that we as individuals cannot go it alone. We are dependant upon God.

Moses instructed the people to celebrate this offering of the first fruits every year, because throughout the year, our memories tend to fade. We are a stubborn and forgetful people. We sometimes look at what surrounds us and think we did it all on our own. The season of Lent in our Christian calendar can be a time to remember anew that we cannot go it alone. We are dependant upon God for everything.

The most mainstream concept known about Lent is the idea of giving things up for Lent. An individual decides to give up chocolate or Starbucks for Lent, as though going without a double mocha latte is to the glory of God. Some people see Lent as an opportunity to go on a diet and call it spirituality.

But what if we looked at this season of the 40 days before Easter as something else. What if we looked at it not as a time to give up on something but as a time to add something? What if during Lent we were to add a daily reminder of our dependence upon God? What if we made a special effort to remind ourselves as we sit down to eat that we depend upon God? What if when we wake up in the morning instead of thinking about rolling out of bed to start another day of drudgery we took just a second to say thanks to God for letting us wake up this day?

It’s about living with an attitude of gratitude. When we think that we can do it all on our own then we can look at others who have less than us and think why don’t they pull themselves up. When we think we can go it alone we can fall into the trap of having to work harder to gain more to keep up with the next latest greatest thing that will land in the landfill in 6 months.

But when we realize that God led not only the ancient Israelites out of Egypt, but really us as well, then we can realize how much we depend upon God. When we can remember in the present tense, we realize that God hears our cries as well. God’s mighty hand and outstretched arm still lead us.

When we look at this language that Moses is instructing the people to use, we realize that it is not the language of the individual but the language of a community. The great granddaughter of one of the Israelites who was in Egypt can’t say that God heard her voice, her affliction, her toil. In telling the story of faith, there is not first person singular pronoun. It is not my story but our story. The story only makes sense in community. It is our community that cries out: our voice, our toil. Just like I cannot separate myself from the ancestors I have, we cannot separate ourselves from our ancestors in the faith. When we can remember in the present tense we connect ourselves to the past and show our dependence upon God for our future.

When we can remember in the present tense, we can saw a wandering Aramean was my ancestor and so was the son of a Jewish carpenter. And everything that I have and everything that I am is because of Mighty God. And when we taste the sweetness of the first fruits – when you taste that first ripe tomato of the season – because eventually Spring will come – remember that God has heard our cries, our voice, our toils. May God continue to lead us from our present-day Egypts with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. And may we be grateful as we remember in the present tense.