Evensong, Sunday, April 1, 2001 ~ Lent 5

St Martin-in-the-Fields, Chestnut Hill PA

Reading: Exodus 3:16-4:12

Three and a half thousand
years ago,
a man called Moses
walked in the wilderness, shepherding
his sheep.
Three and a half thousand
years ago,
God called to him
out of a flaming bush
and gave him a task to do.
Three and a half thousand
years ago...

There are times
when the gap between
the days of Scripture
and the days of the twenty-first century
seems too large
to ever
be bridged.
Great heroes of the faith -
Not only Moses, but Abraham, Mary, Paul -
they live in a world
far removed
from our own;
their experience of God
far more tangible
than our own.

God appears
in clouds and fire;
messengers of God
speak words of promise;
Jesus
walks among the people;
and it's very clear
that God is present and active
in their world.

If only, we say,
if only we lived
when they did,
if only
we could experience God
like they did,
then we would know
for sure.

Even those of us
with a sure and certain faith
from time to time
look with a certain longing
towards the days of Scripture.

And yet
we are all too aware
that this is not
our time,
this is not
our experience.

The story of Moses
is one of the great stories
of the bible.
Moses is marked out
from birth,
protected
by his mother
from a decree of death,
rescued by Pharaoh's daughter
from a watery grave.

Alone in the wilderness,
minding his own business,
minding his sheep,
a bush bursts
into flame,
and a voice comes from heaven,

"Moses, Moses."
And he takes off his sandals
and comes face to face with God.

Standing before Pharaoh
he pleads for his people,
plague after plague
he begs for their freedom.

Through divided sea
and barren desert
Moses leads the people
out
towards
the promised land.

The story
of Moses
is full of drama,
full of adventure,
full of a world
which is so far removed
from where we are,
that we relegate it
to Sunday School
and fairy tales.

But perhaps part of the problem
is that the only piece
of the story of Moses
is the piece we get
in Sunday School,

the only pieces
that the lectionary has us read
on Sunday mornings
are the pieces we already know,
the pieces about Moses,
hero
of the faith.

But the story of Moses
is more than a story of heroism,
the story of Moses is, in fact,
a whole lot more
like our stories,
as you can discover
when you read the bits
the Eucharistic lectionary
leaves out.

And luckily for us,
the lectionary for the Daily Office,
for Morning and Evening Prayer,
fills in some of the parts
which we would otherwise miss out.
Which is how this evening we come to read
Exodus chapter four.

God has appeared to Moses
speaking out
of a burning bush,
a bush which flames up hot
without ever
being consumed.
God speaks to Moses
out of that bush,
and tells him to go
and speak to the people,
speak to the people
on God's behalf.

It's not
an everyday
occurrence -
even
for Moses.

But by the time
we get into the story,
Moses seems to have got over
his initial shock.
God has given him a message
for Pharaoh
and a message
for God's people,
and already Moses
has begun to ask questions.

"Who am I to go speak to Pharaoh?" he asks.
"And when the people ask, who shall I say has sent me?"
By the fourth chapter of Exodus, Moses's questions
have reached a crescendo.
"But suppose they don't believe me! Or what if they don't want to listen?
I'm not great orator, my speech won't convince anyone. You've made a
mistake. Please send someone else."
God has spoken;
Moses
is not convinced.

And he is not convinced
on two major fronts. First,
he's not convinced
that the people will listen.
As far as he can see
there is every chance
that this divine mission
will fail.

God's answer
is to give Moses a sign, a miracle,
one which will not only convince Moses, but one
which he can reproduce for the people
so that they too
might believe.
"Throw down your shepherd's stick," God says
"and it will become a snake. Then grab it by the tail,
and it will become a stick again."
And Moses does
what God says,
and it is just as God said.
But God
is not done yet.

"Take your hand," God says,
"and hide it in your cloak. When you bring it out
with will be white with leprosy.
And so the same again
and it will be clean."
And Moses does
what God says,
and it is just as God said.
But God
is not done yet.

"Take some water from the Nile
and pour it on the ground,
and the water you have poured
will be blood on the earth."

Three signs, three miracles
and God knows
that there is every chance
the people still
will not listen. Just as it takes ten plagues,
snakes, blood, frogs, gnats, flies,
pestilence, boils, thunder and hail, locusts, and darkness,
and still Pharaoh
will not listen.
Not until
his oldest, precious son
is dead
does Pharaoh let
the people go,
and even then
it is only a matter of hours
before
he changes
his mind.

Just as
Jesus healed
blind Bartimaeus
and Simon's mother in law,
and even
raised Lazarus
from the dead,
Jesus was
God among us,
and still the people
would not believe.

If only we lived
when they did, we say, if only
we could experience God
like they did,
then we would know
for sure.
But the evidence is
that being there
was not enough.

Signs may dazzle, but they do not always
lead to faith.
Belief cannot be compelled simply
by evidence
or external signs.
God is persistent,
but God will not force us
into faith.
God preserves for us
the right
to refuse,
to doubt,
to question.
We can look at all the evidence,
but in the end
trust comes
only in the struggle
between faith
and doubt.

"What if they will not listen?"
The question echoes through
to the twenty first century.
We look around us
at a church
which is struggling.
Even if locally
we see growth,
on a national scale
Christianity
is losing ground.
No longer
can we assume
that our neighbors
go to church,
no longer
can we assume
that Christian values
pervade our society.
we look around
and see relatively few
who appear
to be listening
to God.

"What if they will not listen?"
Moses asks. "They may not"
God answers,
"They may not. But my call
is to you
to be obedient;
my call to you
is to be faithful."

But Moses
has yet to be
convinced.
He wasn't convinced first of all
that the people would listen; he's not convinced now
that he's the one
God should send.
"I've never been eloquent; I'm slow of speech. Why
do you want
to send me?"

By this time, it seems,
God is getting
just a little
bit
impatient.
"Moses," he says, who birthed this earth
in creation;
who scattered the stars
in the sky;
who drew forth
living shoots from the ground;
who made you?
Do you think
that I don't know who you are,
what gifts you have?"
I know you,
with all your faults,
with all your limitations,
and I am sending you.

The rabbis suggested
that its precisely because
of Moses' limitations
that God wanted
to use him.
There would be no slick performance
which would obscure God's word.
Just the unvarnished truth
of someone struggling
to speak, the promise of God
without any gloss.

God calls Moses, because God...
because God
has chosen
to be in this world
in a partnership
with humanity. God acts in this world
through ordinary human beings
It's an incredibly risky thing to do.
God trusts us
and calls us
to trust in God.

God works in and through our differences,
God works in and through our weaknesses.
Maybe because
that way its clear
who is at work.

It is God.

God entrusts us
with God's word
and God's love.

The call of God to us
is rarely as dramatic
as the burning bush.
It's more often
a quiet whisper,
a job that needs doing,
a need
that we could
perhaps
fulfill.
A gift we have been given
which somehow,
could be used
in God's service.
A God-given nagging
at the back of our mind
that maybe, just maybe
God might be calling us
to do something.

In spite of our weakness, our busyness, our lack of experience,
God is calling us,
calling us to action, calling us to trust.

"Go," God tells Moses.
"The time for excuses
is over.
Go, speak to the people, and I will be with you."

There's a huge gap
between the days of Scripture
and the days of the twenty-first century,
at least in terms of time.
So much has changed.

But some things don't change.
God continues to call us, God's people
to speak on God's behalf.
We continue to struggle
with the likely failure
of what God calls us to do,
with our own unsuitability
for the task.

But God calls us.
God calls us, some to be preachers
and some to be teachers. Some to give generously
and some to offer hospitality. Some to take care of admin
and some to care for those in need.
Some to lead the people of God
into new visions
and some to keep past visions alive.
God calls us all
to do God's work in the world.
Just as it was
three and a half
thousand years ago,
so it is now.

The God who created us
will be with us. Our call
is to be faithful -
God will take care
of the rest.

"Go," God says. "Go,
and I will be with you."

Amen.

Raewynne J. Whiteley
1 April 2001