14th Sunday after Pentecost
September 10, 2017
Exodus 3:1-15, Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 16:21-28
Some of you may have noticed from the number of books in
my office that I love to read. My new favorite fiction author is Fredrik
Backman, a Swedish writer with two books that have hit the bestsellers’ list.
His newest book is called Beartown, a fictional small town set deep in a forest
in Sweden whose entire population is obsessed with youth hockey. Then there is
a dramatic event which throws the whole town into an upheaval and sides taken
and it’s a big mess. And there’s this line that Fredrik Backman wrote, that
“One of the plainest truths about both towns and individuals is that they
usually don’t turn into what we tell them to be, but what they are told they
are.” It’s food for thought. Do we become who we are told to become, or do we
become who we are told we already are? It’s like a child repeatedly being told
they’re stupid, and so they start to believe it and internalize it and believe
that they are stupid. Or my son repeating back to me the other day what I had
told him in joking days before, that he was a monkey. Who are we told that we
are? I’ve been told I’m a good preacher and I’ve been told I’m a lousy
preacher. I don’t know which to believe, except that my goal isn’t good or bad,
my goal is to be a faithful preacher, and realistically I know the delivery
doesn’t always come across as it should. Who have you been told that you are?
And who do you listen to when it contradicts with what someone else has said?
Even though we only skipped 15 verses ahead from where we
left off with Moses last week, a lot happened in that short time. Moses grew up
in Pharaoh’s palace. One day he saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, and he killed
the Egyptian. Pharaoh heard about it and tried to kill Moses, but Moses fled,
becoming a political refugee, and went to the land of Midian. He settled there,
got married, had children, and became a shepherd.
Moses
is taking care of his father-in-law’s flock when he sees the burning bush. His
response is to turn aside and check out why the bush is on fire but not burning
up. The English poet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote about it in her poem,
“Aurora Leigh”:
“Earth’s crammed with heaven,
And
every common bush afire with God:
But
only he who sees, takes off his shoes,
The
rest sit round it, and pluck blackberries”
Moses is paying attention. He
knows God has already been at work in his life. I’m sure growing up he heard
the story about being drawn out of the water. His father-in-law owns sheep and
is also a priest. God gets Moses’ attention, and rather than dismissing it, or
using the fire to keep warm during the cold desert night, Moses decides to take
a closer look. God calls him by name, “Moses!” and like so many others before
and after him, Moses says, “Here I am.” “Do not come any closer,” God says.
“Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”
How often do we find ourselves on holy ground and we do not know it? There are
so many places of holy ground, so many “common bushes afire with God”. Are we
people who recognize it and take off our shoes, which is more like tread
carefully, be gentle, acknowledge the presence of God in this place. Or are we
those who just sit around and pluck blackberries off it? Moses is someone who
answers when God calls, “Here I am.” Moses is someone who pays attention to the
work of God in the world. Moses is someone who responds appropriately when told
that he’s on holy ground.
That part of the conversation he does well. But then God
gives him a specific task: Moses is to go to Egypt to bring God’s people out of
slavery. And Moses responds with a question: “Who am I that I should go to
Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” Who am I? You can read it as,
“Why me? I’m not anyone special.” Or you can read it as, “Tell me who I am. Tell
me about me and why you’ve chosen me.” Either way, God doesn’t answer with
Moses’ life story, a list of his spiritual gifts, or anything like that. God
says, in effect, “You are someone whom God is with.” Yes, Moses has other good
character traits and a testimony. But the most important thing is God is with
him. Who am I? You are someone whom God is with, and will never leave or
forsake, will not abandon or betray. God is with you. God loves you. That’s who
you are. The beloved of God. Someone who belongs to God and someone who is
loved by God.
Now, why does this matter? Of course, for the sake of the
world, for working with God in his work of redeeming the world. But we’re going
a little more specific than that today. There’s a new line of thought about
vision.[1]
In the past, vision has been defined as a destination, where we’re going, and
how we’re going to get there. That kind of strategy sounds familiar, right? And
who we are are people on the journey to this vision of the future. Well, the
argument is being made that we know less and less of what the future is going
to look like. The future is becoming more and more unpredictable because the
rate of change has rapidly increased. No sooner do you buy one gadget than you
already need to update it. And how quickly technology becomes obsolete! The
fact of culture changing faster makes it harder to predict what the future is
going to look like. Are we going to end up like the Jetson’s? Like Star Trek?
Like the Hunger Games? And so it becomes harder to discern a vision that has an
end point, of what life and the church are going to look like five or ten years
down the road. Instead, this new line of thinking that’s emerging is that vision
isn’t so much a destination as vision is God’s kingdom coming, and the key
question isn’t where is God calling us to go but who is God calling us to be. Instead of knowing where we’re going
before we start the journey, this is “a vision of the kind of people we will be on the journey, which will in large part
determine where we end up.”[2]
That’s why we need to know who we are, and who we will become.
Who have you been told you are? Who have you become? For
a positive example, I think that’s why affirmation of parents is so important.
Being told I’m a good mom helps me become
a good mom. How about for you? Who are you? Who do you need reminding and
affirming that you are? I’ve had three family members visit over the past two
months that I’ve been here. Two were obvious, because they sat with my kids and
my husband and his brother look a bit alike. The third was my stepdad, who was
practically incognito without my children to out him as Grandpa. My
brother-in-law, his wife, and my stepdad all said that Lisbon is a friendly and
welcoming church. That’s who you are.
Whether you believe it or not. Whether you’ve been told otherwise or not. You
are friendly and welcoming. You are God’s people, beloved by God. Now, “given
who we are, our unique identity in this time and place – in this [community] – what is God inviting
us to do?”[3]
Moses was invited to go free God’s people from oppression in Egypt. And then
God invited him to continued leadership as the Israelites wandered the desert
for forty years. And grumbled and complained about it, which we’ll get to in
the coming weeks. Moses asked, “Who am I?” And God said, “I am with you. Now go
free my people.” Moses believed God was with him. And with God at his side,
Moses could go to Pharaoh, could do the signs and wonders of the ten plagues,
could lead God’s people out of slavery.
What about you? With God at your side. Believing God
loves you and is with you. Believing that we are a friendly and welcoming
church. Knowing that we are in the year 2017 and in the community of Lisbon.
What is God inviting you to do? What is God calling us to do? We know who God
is calling us to be, his people, beloved by him. We read in Romans that we are to
love one another, to honor one another above ourselves, to serve the Lord, to
share with those who are in need, to practice hospitality, to live in harmony
with one another. And we read in Matthew that “if you want to follow [Jesus],
you must deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow [him]. Those who want to
save their life will lose it, those who lose their life for [Jesus’] sake will
find it.”[4]
That’s the thing about not having a destination for a vision. It means only God
knows exactly where we’ll end up, just like only God knows what the future will
look like. We trust God to lead us, to give us enough light for the next step,
or to give us enough courage to take a step in the dark before we find the
light switch. We are people who trust God and trust that God holds the future
in God’s hands. And that trust may be in spite of knowing that God can do
infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.[5]
God can do more than we can dream of. That is both exciting and terrifying. And
as God does more than we can imagine, we are people who are committed to
journeying with God and together, paying attention to where God is already at
work, listening to God’s voice and answering when God calls. That’s who we are.
God’s people in this particular time and this particular place. Thanks be to
God.
[1]
Much of this paragraph is from A New Day
in the City: Urban Church Revival by Donna Claycomb Sokol and L. Roger
Owens. In spite of the title, much of what the authors have to say is
applicable to a church in any setting, not just in the city.
[2] Ibid.,
27
[3]
Ibid., 33
[4]
Matthew 16:24-25
[5]
Ephesians 3:20
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