We’ve just returned home from church and the kids immediately engaged in their usual bickering, fighting and whining about their pitiful, deprived existence.

Hey, hey there! I yelled several notches above their current decibel level. What did they teach you in Sunday School today? I asked wondering if there might be a bridge I can create between Sunday morning lesson and Sunday (or Monday, or Thursday) afternoon application.

Nothing. Our seven-year old, already know-it-all son shrugged indifferently. We were just talking about Moses. The times past, you know.

Times past, huh? So, what did you learn about Moses? I probed further.

Hmmm… we just talked about the time when they got really hungry, you know the story… his voice trailed off.

And? What did they do? Now, I definitely wasn’t dropping the subject. Didn’t they complain? And weren’t they whining? And arguing with Moses?

Yes! Yes! Both of our kids cried out in unison.

Well, it sure doesn’t sound like “time past” to me. It sounds just like what you guys are doing right here, right now.

Their jaws dropped together with their smug “been there, done that, already- know-all-this-stuff” veneer. The Word of God suddenly lost its musty odor of the dust-covered dead stuff of the past, and started living, breathing afresh among us. The God who WAS dropped into our living room as the One who IS today, and as I looked at my children I thought how we all may have a lot more in common with those shaggy old characters wearing long robes than we care to admit.