26March2000sermon.htm

"A gift of words"

Sermon for Lent 3, Year B, March 26, 2000

Episcopal Church at Princeton University, NJ

Readings: Exodus 20: 1-17

I wonder
what you think of
when you hear the Ten Commandments.

Do you get stuck
right at the beginning?
"I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of
the house of slavery; you shall have no other gods before me."
Egypt and slavery: what has that got to do with Princeton in the spring of
the year 2000?
Or a little further on,
"I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity
of parents, to the third or fourth generation of those who reject me, but
showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me
and keep my commandments."
What is this about a jealous God, who punishes children for things they
haven't even done? And how does it fit with the loving God we hear so much
about?
"Remember the Sabbath Day, and keep it holy."
When was the last time you had a day off, a day "holy to the Lord."
Or perhaps what sticks in you mind is that list of don'ts . "Thou shalt not
do
this, thou shalt not do that."

The ten commandments
don't do so well
in our world.
And along with them
goes God.

For if these are the commands of God, then I'm not sure
I want to know this God.
It sounds like God
is some kind of judge,
ready to declare a guilty verdict
- because I know, at least, that I most likely break some of these laws -
its sounds like those preachers are right
who say God is sending us
to the fires of Hell.
Of course, that's only true
if you take them seriously.
And sometimes I'm not too sure
if there's any point.
After all, we all know
that there are some laws
that are made to be broken,
and some laws
that no one keeps.
They no longer matter.
And if that's true
then God is no more
than a kindly, impotent
old gentleman.

But today I want to suggest
that there's another way
of looking at these laws, another way
which gives us a whole different picture of God
another way
which takes them to be something other
than a list of rules.

And to see that other way, I need to take you back to Exodus,
to the world of Moses
and the time when the people first heard
the words we know today
as the Ten Commandments.

The people
had been traveling a long time
or so it seemed, two months
or more,
and they were tired.
The horrors of Egypt
seemed long ago,
the hard work,
and the feel of whips on their backs,
and the fear in the eyes of their children;
much closer was the uncertainty
of their journey, never absolutely sure
that there would be food and water
at the end of another day's
travel.

Then Moses, their leader,
told them to stop.
And thy set up their tents
in the shadow of a mountain,
and for three days
they rested.
They ate and they drank,
they slept and they talked,
they washed the grit
from their eyes
and the dust
from their clothes.

And then Moses told them
to get ready
because God was going
to speak to them.
And so on the third day
they stood
out in front of their tents
clean clothes, faces shining in the early morning sunlight,
waiting for God
to speak.

And then the world erupted. Flashes of lightening forked the sky, and
thunder
louder than an army of horses, and a cloud
so thick
that their fingertips
seemed to disappear
into its depths.
And then the blast of a trumpet
harsh and ugly
reaching to the corners of the sky,
and they shook with the violence of it.
And then the shaking was not their own,
for the whole earth began to moan and strain and shudder,
and smoke filled the air.
And they huddled together -
the children were crying with fear
and the animals
pulling at their ropes
trying to escape.

And all they could think of
were the stories they had heard
of gods
who controlled everything
the sun and the rain, the sea and the sky.
gods to be feared,
powerful, unpredictable,
striking at any time,
gods as likely to destroy
as to bless.

And Moses? He disappeared,
off up the mountain
into the cloud and the smoke,
into the thunderstorm and the earthquake,
and they knew
it was all over.

For if God was there,
it was not a God
they wanted to know.
It was not a God
they wanted to hear.
They were afraid
of God.
So they went back into their tents
and it was not until much later
that they heard
what God had
to say.

And what God had to say
was what we know
as the Ten Commandments

"I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt. You are my people."

In Jewish tradition,
these words
are not known
as the Ten Commandments
but the Ten Words.
Because instead of destroying them
as they feared,
God spoke
to the people.

These are not so much
a list of laws
as God's attempt to communicate
to build a relationship,
in the only way
the people know how
to hear.
Words about a world
which God is bringing into being
in their midst.

Words
about a world
which is not chaotic, crazy, time running in every direction,
but ordered
and rhythmical
a balance of work
and rest.

Words about a world
where people might learn
how to care for one another
how to rejoice together in good fortune
how to speak so you can trust
what they say
and who they are.

And most of all,
words about a world
where God is not distant
and capricious
acting, it seems, by chance,
but a world where God is
involved,
passionate about the everyday lives of the people,
the people
who God loves.

Those
are the ten words, gifts
for the people
of God.

And if we hear
the ten words in that way,
how different might things look? Well let me tell you what it looked like
for me
when I heard just one of these words
as a gift
rather than a threat.
About a year ago
I heard a sermon
on keeping the Sabbath.
I'd heard sermons like this
before
but somehow
this time
it was different.
Because for the first time ever,
I heard
that keeping the Sabbath
was not something
to feel guilty
that I don't do
but a gift.
A gift when time
no longer
controls me.
Each Saturday,
or sometimes a Monday
I take a Sabbath. I sleep
until I wake -
I eat
whatever appeals to me,
I think, I read,
I sit on the porch and drink coffee.
Sometimes
I have a meal with friends,
and most times
I go for a walk in the woods near my house -
now Spring is on its way
I look forward to watching the turtles
from the bridge across the brook
and the dark diamond shapes of fish
just under the surface of the water.
And I learn to pay attention
to the world around
and to myself.

It hasn't been easy
to learn to do this.
It means that the rest of my week
has more crammed in - you all know the problem of juggling study and work
and a social life as well.
It means I have to find another day
to do my shopping
and I can no longer
snatch a couple of hours to go to the mall to check out the sales.
And some Sabbaths, I have to do some work - and so I carefully mark out
the hour or two that I need,
and then
go back
to Sabbathing.
Sometimes
my Sabbath
only lasts an hour or two -
though I've come to miss it,
when I cut it short.
Because the habit
of Sabbathing
has, to my surprise, become precious to me.

Because time
takes on a new dimension
not just that day
but the rest of the week,
there is order in chaos,
rhythm
in the midst of confusion,
balance,
or at least the semblance of it.
Time no longer holds me captive,
and there is a new wholeness
about my life.
And I remember God
unexpectedly
in every part of my life.

I'll bet that you still have some questions
about the ten commandments,
and I'd be happy to talk with any of you about them.

But for now,
remember
that the ten words
are a gift from God,
the gift of a God
who speaks.
A God
who loves.
And a God
who saves.
Amen.

Raewynne J. Whiteley
26 March 2000