This weekend I'll be part of a UMJC regional conference with the theme, "Adonai Tzurenu-the Lord is our Rock: Cultivating Shalom in Challenging Times."

The metaphor of God as rock seems pretty relevant right now. If you use it, though, don't be thinking of a rock that you might skip across a pond, or even a rock that you might use to build a wall. We are talking about a huge geological outcropping, a rock that stands out in the landscape as a marker, a place of refuge, a shade from the heat of the day and a protection in the darkness of night. When Saul was pursuing David, David found safety in places like the Rock of Escape, and the Rocks of the Wild Goats in En Gedi (1 Sam. 23:24 - 24:2), so he spoke of God as Adonai Tsuri (the Lord my Rock; Ps. 28:1), and sang to him, "Blessed be Adonai Tsuri . . ." (Ps. 144:1).

We're talking about a rock that is immovable, steadfast, a place of refuge. So it is almost shocking to hear Rav Shaul talk about the rock follows us, as he does in his letter to the Corinthians:

"I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea, and all were immersed into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, and all ate the same spiritual food, and all drank the same spiritual drink. For they drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Messiah." (1 Cor. 10:1-4, NRSV)

Notice that God provided water from the rock at the very beginning of our wanderings in the wilderness, before we had even received the Torah (Ex. 17:1-7), and again toward the end of our wanderings, not long before we entered the Promised Land (Num. 20:1-8). But what about all the years in between? An old midrash imagines that a rock followed us to provide a steady supply of water in the dry and barren wilderness. The Torah says, "Then the children of Israel, the whole congregation, came into the Wilderness of Zin in the first month, and the people stayed in Kadesh; and Miriam died there and was buried there. Now there was no water for the congregation . . ." (Num. 20:1-2). So perhaps the rock followed us because of the merit of Miriam, sister of Moses, and when Miriam died, the rock disappeared. [See Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews.]

Rav Shaul was apparently familiar with this evolving story, and he adds his own element: "And the rock was Messiah." But, wait, this rock followed us, and we're supposed to follow Messiah, not vice versa. But when you are shepherding folks who are younger or weaker or more vulnerable, and they're passing through an uncharted wilderness, you not only want someone reliable at the head, but you want someone reliable pulling up the rear as well, to make sure that no one is lost or left behind. The rock that follows us is a picture of God's graciousness toward us, even when we are complaining and unworthy.

And what God graces us with is life itself. The midrash says that God forgives the people's complaining in Numbers 20 because he understands that they cannot live without water. Water is essential to life. This rock is not so much about steadfastness and power as about giving life itself. Messiah follows us to freely supply our needs and sustain us in our wanderings, and we need him like we need water, for he is essential to life every day.

But all of this, though true, is not the point that Rav Shaul is making with his midrash. Rather, the conclusion he draws from the story is this: "So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall" (1 Cor. 10:12 NRSV).

How does he get there? Our ancestors, Shaul says, all went through the rite of passage out of Egypt and into the God's kingdom under Moses; they all partook of the spiritual food and drink in the wilderness, miraculously supplied from above; but they did not all reach the appointed destination. Indeed, most did not. So he warns us not to presume upon our initial experience with God and think we can slide through the rest of our spiritual journey on auto-pilot. Israel's auto-pilot led into idolatry and immorality, as Shaul points out.

Now, I believe in a dramatic, life-changing encounter with God. I believe that on a night in the fall of 1972, in a cabin in the mountains of New Mexico, God touched me in way that changed my life forever, and my eternal destiny as well. But I also believe that we can presume upon such an experience; that we can see it as our free pass through life and beyond. In addition to the threat of auto-pilot, then, we have the threat of "arrivalism," which distorts assurance in Messiah into spiritual complacency and condescension. In Messianic Jewish circles, arrivalism might get us looking at the Christians and thinking, "OK, they believe in Messiah, but they don't have Torah, Jewish roots, real understanding of God's purposes for Israel." Or we might look at the wider Jewish world and think, "OK, they have all that, but they don't have Yeshua . . ." So we think we are the only ones standing, that we have arrived ahead of anyone else. But God didn't save us to rest upon our religious laurels. We do not arrive until all Israel arrives, which only happens through Yeshua and the outpouring of his spirit.

Let me suggest another conclusion, which is not quite the point that Shaul was making, but implied by it. The rock that follows us is the source of water, which represents the ruach or spirit. To make sure we get this analogy Shaul calls the water that comes out of the rock "the spiritual drink." So here's the point: Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate.

A friend who is a nurse recently told me that when you're exercising and you start to feel thirsty, you're already a liter low. Years ago we helped one of our daughters buy a car when she was going to college in another town. After a few weeks she called to tell us that the engine was blown and the car was no more. She thought she was doing everything to take care of it. She said she made sure to add some oil whenever the oil light came on . . . which it did pretty often. The engine suffered accordingly and finally gave out. I think some of us are far more than a quart low. We've got to be alert to our need for oil before the oil light comes on, to keep hydrating with the spirit before we feel thirsty.

Let's mix up some metaphors here. "If you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall." If you think you can cruise along in auto-pilot, or even that you've already arrived, watch out that you don't crash half-way to your destination. We do not arrive until all Israel arrives, which only happens through Yeshua and the outpouring of his spirit. As the anti-dote to arrivalism, we need to steadily draw upon his spirit, not just in a one-time encounter, but in continuing daily renewal-which we need like we need water. May God renew our thirst for the spiritual drink that flows from the rock that follows us.