So, you wanna go back to Egypt?

Keith Green is a legend.

I’ve always loved his songs “Oh Lord, You’re Beautiful” and “Create In Me a Clean Heart”, but recently I’ve started listening to songs we never sang in church like, “So, You Wanna Go Back to Egypt?”  It’s a little dated musically, but it’s lyrically on-point:

“So you wanna go back to Egypt
Where it’s warm and secure
Are sorry you bought the one way ticket
When you thought you were sure
You wanted to live in the land of promise
But now it’s getting so hard
Are you sorry you’re out here in the desert
Instead of your own back yard”

For the Israelites wandering in the desert, Egypt was two things simultaneously: the comfort of familiarity, and the oppression of slavery.  Depending on their circumstances, the Israelites would choose to focus on different memories of their time in Egypt.

When God was moving, food was coming out of the sky, and the Promised Land seemed to be just around the corner, Egypt was a place the children of Israel were grateful to have left…a blatant representation of how God’s promises are always sure.

When God seemed distant, food was scarce, and the Promised Land seemed to be unreachable, Egypt was a place the children of Israel longed to return…a blatant representation of how God’s promises are never sure.

We all judge the Israelites for their lack of faith, their constant complaining, their rejection of God and Moses…we think to ourselves, “if I would have seen the Red Sea split in half, I would never doubt God again!”

But we have seen miracles in our own lives, and yet we still doubt, complain, and reject.

We all have our own “Egypt”: that place of comfort and slavery, of familiarity and oppression.

And so do our friends on the street.

Last night, two of our friends that we helped get into detox and rehab were back on the street, back in Egypt.

It filled us all with different emotions, but, in general, we settled on sad and understandable.

Addiction is a self-made prison: addicts are prisoner and guard and warden all at the same time, and each role has it’s perks.  Prisoners don’t have the burden of making choices, guards have the predictability of routine, and wardens have the freedom to do as they please.

Tearing down the prison is incredibly difficult, and taking away the roles in the prison is like stealing someone’s identity.  Who is the addict now?  How do they function in a world that is so vastly different from everything they’ve ever known?  Where is their community now?  What do they do with their life?

These are tough questions to answer.  It makes sense to go back to What and Where and Who you know:

“So you wanna to back to Egypt
Where your friends wait for you
You can throw a big party and tell the whole gang
Of what they said was all true”