Build for Generosity: Carried by Grace First

Has anyone ever heard of James Arne Nestingen? He was a retired professor from Luther Seminary who passed away in 2022. He was known for many ideas. One of those was a suggestion for preachers - that every preacher should preach through the Ten Commandments once every three years. You might not actually like that suggestion. But it is, actually, a good tradition. One that keeps us grounded.

Today, we begin a four-week journey into what we call the Decalogue—or, translated literally, the Ten Words. We find these words twice in our Bibles, first in Exodus and later repeated in Deuteronomy. Over this next month, we aren't just going to look at ancient rules. We’re going to look at how these words shape our daily lives. We will move from God’s big heart to the simple, practical ways we treat our neighbors.

But let’s be honest: when we hear the word "law," we usually think of the fine print. We think of the long terms and conditions we scroll past on our phones just to get a phone app working. Or that detailed office handbook that sets the exact temperature of the breakroom coffee. In our modern "hustle culture," we feel like we are only as good as the last checked box on our “to do” list. We carry a heavy anxiety - an "Egyptian anxiety," which is that constant fear that if we don't work hard enough, or aren’t good enough, or we don’t follow the rules perfectly, we might lose our seat at the table. It can make God's law feel like just one more heavy weight to carry.

But before we look at a single "thou shalt not," we have to look at the relationship. Because before God gives us the rules, God gives us a rescue.

Why Nineteen Comes Before Twenty

There is a smart design in how our Bibles are put together. Theologian David Lose, reminds us that in the book of Exodus, chapter nineteen comes before chapter twenty. Of course, right? But, this isn't just a basic math lesson; it’s the engine of our faith. Chapter 19 is where God offers grace and relationship. Chapter 20 is where the Commandments show up.

This order matters! God builds the relationship first. That comes first. The law, with its demands on how we act, comes second. Sometimes we try to flip this. We try to build a stairway to heaven out of our own good behavior. But trying to earn salvation through the law is like trying to build a spaceship out of cardboard. It’s just not going to work. God doesn't give the law to start a relationship with us. God starts the relationship through grace, and then gives the law as a roadmap to help us understand how free people stay free.

When we look at the opening lines in Exodus 20—what our Jewish neighbors call the "First Word"—God introduces God's self as the one who "brought you out of the land of Egypt." These aren't the orders of a boss; they are the directions of a Savior.

The Promise of the Eagles' Wings

Before the mountain shook and the thunder rolled, there was a promise. God wanted the people to know who they were to God before asking them to do a single thing. We read this morning the first part of our text in Exodus, chapter 19.

Exodus 19:1-6

On the third new moon after the Israelites had gone out of the land of Egypt, on that very day, they came into the wilderness of Sinai. They journeyed from Rephidim, entered the wilderness of Sinai, and camped in the wilderness; Israel camped there in front of the mountain. Then Moses went up to God; the Lord called to him from the mountain, “Thus you shall say to the house of Jacob and tell the Israelites: ‘You have seen what I did to the Egyptians and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now, therefore, if you obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my treasured possession out of all the peoples. Indeed, the whole earth is mine, but you shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.’ These are the words that you shall speak to the Israelites.”

Moses stands on that mountain, holding onto these words like a lifeline. God says something that sounded impossible to former slaves: You are a treasured possession.

Think about that. For generations in Egypt, the Israelites were valued only for how many bricks they could make. Being called "treasured" changed their identity completely. They were no longer defined by what they produced, but by where and to whom they belonged. This was the ultimate cure for their anxiety. They weren't being asked to perform to become holy. They were told they were already loved, and the law was simply the framework for their new life together.

The Generosity of Fences

When we think about these Commandments, I want you to change how you look at them. They aren’t a mean checklist or a set of impossible rules; they are protective boundaries. Think of a parent putting a fence around a backyard. That fence isn't there to make the child feel like a prisoner. It’s there so the child can run and play without worrying about the traffic in the street. That is the beauty of fences. In a world full of stress and worry, these rules give us safety.

First, these boundaries give us space to catch our breath. Look at the Sabbath. In Deuteronomy's version of the Commandments, the reason for the Sabbath isn't just about God resting at creation—it’s about fairness. It says, "Remember that you were a slave." The Sabbath is the world’s first fair-labor law! It is a safety net that protects us from burnout and endless work, making sure everyone gets a chance to breathe.

Second, these boundaries create a space for trust. By banning stealing, killing, and lying, the law creates a safe place to live. It protects your neighbor from you, and it protects you from your neighbor. It allows us to stop looking over our shoulders and start looking each other in the eye. It is God’s plan for how free people live together in peace.

The Ground Truth of the First Word

Everything in this plan is held together by a single sentence. It’s the anchor that keeps the rules from turning into cold legalism. We find it in the second part of our reading, from Exodus, chapter 20. 

Exodus 20:1-2

Then God spoke all these words, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.”

This "First Word" is the anchor. It reminds the Israelites—and it reminds us—that they are already saved. They aren't standing at the foot of the mountain trying to rescue themselves. They are standing there because they have already been carried on eagles' wings.

Caring for Our Shared Life

So, what's the main point? Paul tells us in Galatians 5 that "For freedom Christ has set us free." But he adds that this freedom isn't an excuse to do whatever we want. Instead, we use our freedom to serve one another in love. Paul boils the whole law down to one simple point: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

When we see the law this way, we start caring about our shared life. We stop obsessing over our own perfection—trying to be the "holiest" person in the room—and we start caring about what's best for our neighbor. This allows us to drop the mental scorecards we all carry. You know the ones—the list where we keep track of who owes us what, which grudges we’re holding, and how many "good deeds" we’ve earned today. Grace lets us throw away that scorecard. We realize that God doesn't want a business transaction; God wants a loving relationship.

Now, let’s be real: loving our neighbors is messy work. In ancient times, it meant not wanting your neighbor’s ox. Today, it might mean not obsessing over their perfectly green lawn or their new promotion. It might mean staying calm when their leaf blower starts blasting at 7:00 AM on a Saturday! But the law reminds us that God loves our neighbor so much that God put up guardrails to protect them from us.

Living as the Treasured

As we go out into the world this week, may we remember that we are carried by grace first. The Ten Commandments are not a ladder you climb to reach God. They are simply what love looks like in a world that needs to learn how to be free.

I invite you this week to live like someone carried on "eagles' wings." You do not have to hustle for your worth. You do not have to produce to be loved. You are already a "treasured possession." May you walk within the guardrails of God’s grace—not because you have to, but because you are finally free to love your neighbor as yourself. And may we all find rest in God’s promise and strength in God’s love. Amen.

Preached Sunday, August 16, 2026, at Vista Lutheran Church, St Louis Park, MN.

God Provides Blessings: Proofing the Dough

Last week’s story related how God promised to deliver the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. This week, we see the results of that deliverance. We read in Exodus, chapter 16.

The whole Israelite community set out from Elim and came to the Sin desert, which is located between Elim and Sinai. They set out on the fifteenth day of the second month after they had left the land of Egypt. The whole Israelite community complained against Moses and Aaron in the desert. The Israelites said to them, “Oh, how we wish that the Lord had just put us to death while we were still in the land of Egypt. There we could sit by the pots cooking meat and eat our fill of bread. Instead, you’ve brought us out into this desert to starve this whole assembly to death.”

Then the Lord said to Moses, “I’m going to make bread rain down from the sky for you. The people will go out each day and gather just enough for that day. In this way, I’ll test them to see whether or not they follow my Instruction. On the sixth day, when they measure out what they have collected, it will be twice as much as they collected on other days.” So Moses and Aaron said to all the Israelites, “This evening you will know that it was the Lord who brought you out of the land of Egypt. And in the morning you will see the Lord’s glorious presence, because your complaints against the Lord have been heard. Who are we? Why blame us?” Moses continued, “The Lord will give you meat to eat in the evening and your fill of bread in the morning because the Lord heard the complaints you made against him. Who are we? Your complaints aren’t against us but against the Lord.”

Then Moses said to Aaron, “Say to the whole Israelite community, ‘Come near to the Lord, because he’s heard your complaints.’” As Aaron spoke to the whole Israelite community, they turned to look toward the desert, and just then the glorious presence of the Lord appeared in the cloud.

The Lord spoke to Moses, “I’ve heard the complaints of the Israelites. Tell them, ‘At twilight you will eat meat. And in the morning you will have your fill of bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.’”

In the evening a flock of quail flew down and covered the camp. And in the morning there was a layer of dew all around the camp. When the layer of dew lifted, there on the desert surface were thin flakes, as thin as frost on the ground. When the Israelites saw it, they said to each other, “What is it?” They didn’t know what it was.

Moses said to them, “This is the bread that the Lord has given you to eat. This is what the Lord has commanded: ‘Collect as much of it as each of you can eat, one omer per person. You may collect for the number of people in your household.’” The Israelites did as Moses said, some collecting more, some less. But when they measured it out by the omer, the ones who had collected more had nothing left over, and the ones who had collected less had no shortage. Everyone collected just as much as they could eat.

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from our holy God - Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer. Amen.

Most of you here know that I like to bake. I come from a long line of bakers. My grandmother was famous for her “kuchen.” My mother was known for a wide variety of baked goods, especially the “stollen” she would bake and give away to friends and family each Christmas. For a time, when I was growing up, each week should would bake 5-6 loaves of bread (mostly because my brother would steal a loaf fresh out of the oven and each it in one sitting). So, at a pretty young age, I would sit and watch my mother as she made bread. Mixing the yeast in water sprinkled with a little sugar, then adding flour and salt and kneading the dough for several minutes until it was smooth and elastic.

It was until really the past few years, as I’ve become obsessed with watching baking programs, that I learned what that process of mixing the yeast with water and sugar was all about. Professional bakers call it “proofing” the yeast. A better word is “proving” the yeast. It’s a test to see if the yeast is good and ready to move onto the next step. 

This is the test that God is giving Israel in today’s story. It’s not a test that they can pass or fail. But a test to see if they - like my mother’s yeast - is ready to move onto the next step. 

So, what’s going on here? Well, last week we heard the story of the call of Moses - this reluctant prophet who really resists God’s call to lead Israel out of slavery in Egypt. They have been part of an economy there. An economy built by the pharaoh, who is all about storing up grain which equates to wealth. To store it, he needs storage facilities. It’s these facilities that the Israelites have been enslaved to build. All for the sake of accumulating wealth for the pharaoh - Egypt’s king. It’s an economy of scarcity - an economy that rests on a premise that there is not enough for everyone. An economy that is about hoarding, getting as much as one can get. Just in case. Remember the toilet paper shortage last year in the early months of the pandemic?

This is the only economy Israel has known. An economy that has enslaved them to build and store up wealth. An economy of scarcity has, at its core, fear and control.

God’s economy is different. God’s economy is an economy of sufficiency. Where there is enough for everyone. Where hoarding and storing up wealth is unnecessary, because God has created enough for all people, including you and me. This economy - God’s economy - is one that has, at its core, faith and trust in the provision of God.

So, six weeks after having witnessed the amazing miracle and show of God’s power at the Red Sea, when God parted the waters so that Israel could cross on dry land. Six weeks later, Israel is now in the wilderness. The provisions they brought with them are beginning to diminish. They are becoming fearful, wondering how they eat in this God-forsaken place. 

The response by Israel - the very human response of this people who are very much like we are - is to complain. “If only we hadn’t left Egypt,” they cry out. “If only we hadn’t left Egypt, we’d be sitting in front of our fire pots, eating meat and bread to our fill.” How quickly they’ve forgotten that they were slaves in Egypt. Enslaved by an economy of scarcity that has been deeply embedded in who they are. So that, rather than face an unknown future, even with the promise of God to be present with them, they would much rather go back to the way it was. Go back to being enslaved. This economy, however harsh and inequitable it might be, has so deeply ingrained itself in their lives and the psyche that, for Israel and, perhaps, for us, it is more desirable than the unknown with God.

Isn’t this our situation, too? We know that our systems need to change. We know that our economic system has led to deep inequities in our nation and our world. That it is an economy of scarcity, where the rich only get richer and the poor, poorer. That this economic system, based on producing more and more and more stuff, has resulted in massive harm to our environment. To God’s creation which only a few weeks ago God called “good.” And placed humankind over it to steward it - to care for it. We know we need to change how we live, how we think - everything about the way in which we exist in this world. I get it. It’s hard for me not to want to store up stuff and money to make sure I have enough for the future. 

It’s not just our economic system. Our entire culture needs to change. The church needs to change.  We can no longer fail to walk the talk. To actually live how we say we should live. 

But, that’s really hard, isn’t it. That really hard, especially when we don’t know what the future will bring. Our fear works on us, just as it did on Israel. Making us want to go back to or to remain in the way things have always been.

But, this is where faith comes in. Bit by bit. Day by day, as we see God’s provision, as we see God’s presence in the mundane things of life, like manna, or our daily bread, we are reminded over and over again that, even though we can’t fully see the reality of what God has in store for us, we do know that God will guide us through this wilderness. That God, in Jesus - that Bread come down from heaven, who like the God of the Hebrew scriptures present in the manna is present for us in this bread - that God, in Jesus will form and shape us, will proof us just as my mother proofed her yeast. So that we might have life. Here and now. And into all eternity. Amen.

Preached October 10, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Pentecost 20

Readings: Exodus 16:1-18, John 6:51

God Provides Blessings: Reluctant Prophet

Throughout this unit, we’ve been exploring the idea that God Provides Blessings in many different ways. We’ve considered the blessings found in creation. The blessings that other people provide to us. And the blessings that we offer to other people.

Sometimes, though, we receive blessings through experiences that, perhaps, we did not want to have. Or were nervous or reluctant about.

For example, if I’d been given a preference to serve a congregation, it’s probably no surprise to you that I would have wanted to serve in a place closer to my son and daughter-in-law. But, God had a slightly different idea that I did about where I might best serve the Church. Thank God this is so, because, if not, I would never have the blessing of knowing you. Or this beautiful place. Or the many people I’ve met through my work and my life here.

Have you had an experience like this? Where you entered into it in a reluctant way? What might have happened if you’d not done this thing, however reluctantly? Perhaps, the bigger question is how has God blessed you through this experience?

Moses was a reluctant leader. Today, we’re going to hear what Moses was reluctant to do. And how, even with this, God blessed him and so many others through him anyway. We read today in three parts, beginning in Exodus, chapter 2. 

A long time passed, and the Egyptian king died. The Israelites were still groaning because of their hard work. They cried out, and their cry to be rescued from the hard work rose up to God. God heard their cry of grief, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God looked at the Israelites, and God understood. 

It’s been a long time and generations since Jacob. 

If you remember the story of Jacob and his son, Joseph, you may recall that because of famine, Jacob, now renamed Israel, had moved with his clan to Egypt. They had settled in Goshen. Much time has passed. New pharoahs - Egyptian kings - have come and gone. Israel has grown into a large people. A nation. Fulfilling part of the covenant with Abraham. But, because of their size, they’ve become viewed as a political threat to Egypt. And were enslaved. Forced into hard labor. 

Our story tells us that they were groaning because of this enslavement. Crying out to God. Crying out to be rescued from this hard and punishing work. Do you notice the verbs that describe God’s response? God heard. God remembered. God looked. And God understood.

What might this say to us when we cry out because of our suffering? Or those who are oppressed in our world cry out? God hears. God remembers. God looks. And God understands.

Our reading continues in chapter 3.

Moses was taking care of the flock for his father-in-law Jethro, Midian’s priest. He led his flock out to the edge of the desert, and he came to God’s mountain called Horeb. The Lord’s messenger appeared to him in a flame of fire in the middle of a bush. Moses saw that the bush was in flames, but it didn’t burn up. Then Moses said to himself, Let me check out this amazing sight and find out why the bush isn’t burning up.

When the Lord saw that he was coming to look, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!”

Moses said, “I’m here.”

Then the Lord said, “Don’t come any closer! Take off your sandals, because you are standing on holy ground.” He continued, “I am the God of your father, Abraham’s God, Isaac’s God, and Jacob’s God.” Moses hid his face because he was afraid to look at God.

Then the Lord said, “I’ve clearly seen my people oppressed in Egypt. I’ve heard their cry of injustice because of their slave masters. I know about their pain. I’ve come down to rescue them from the Egyptians in order to take them out of that land and bring them to a good and broad land, a land that’s full of milk and honey, a place where the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites all live. Now the Israelites’ cries of injustice have reached me. I’ve seen just how much the Egyptians have oppressed them. So get going. I’m sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.”

But Moses said to God, “Who am I to go to Pharaoh and to bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”

God said, “I’ll be with you. And this will show you that I’m the one who sent you. After you bring the people out of Egypt, you will come back here and worship God on this mountain.”

Moses is a person in between. He is Hebrew, but has grown up in the royal court - adopted by a pharaoh’s daughter. Yet, as a Hebrew, his heart remains with his people. 

Moses is a person between two worlds - a world of privilege and a world of bondage, called by God to traverse both of those worlds to accomplish God’s plan, which is to free God’s people from their oppression.

Moses is reluctant. Perhaps its because he is a person of two worlds, not belonging to either, he questions his own worth. Yet, God calls him. In an unusual way. Through a burning bush. A bush that is not consumed. How long did Moses have to look at this burning bush to notice that it wasn’t burning up? How many people before Moses passed by this bush without noticing? How often to we pass by “burning bushes” in our lives - too busy or maybe feeling too unworthy to stop and notice how God might be calling us?

Our story continues in chapter 3.

But Moses said to God, “If I now come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ they are going to ask me, ‘What’s this God’s name?’ What am I supposed to say to them?”

God said to Moses, “I Am Who I Am. So say to the Israelites, ‘I Am has sent me to you.’” God continued, “Say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, Abraham’s God, Isaac’s God, and Jacob’s God, has sent me to you.’ This is my name forever; this is how all generations will remember me.

Knowing someone’s name gives us a more intimate relationship with them. This act of God - giving Moses God’s very name - is an intimate act, inviting Moses into relationship with God. Because God’s name is sacred. So sacred, in fact, that in later generations, the Hebrew people will not even speak it aloud. God’s name is so sacred that it really is not even translatable from the original Hebrew. It’s a verb, that means “to be.” It can be translated, “I Am Who I Am.” But, God will not be pinned down to any single name. This verb is open-ended. It can be translated, “I Will Be Who I Will Be.” It can be translated, “I Will Become Who I Will Become.” It’s a verb that teaches us that God is present yet ever-changing. But mostly, God’s name teaches us that God cannot be contained. That God is so expansive that any relationship with God that you or I experience is only one minute aspect of this present, ever-changing and expansive God. It also teaches us that to even begin to know God, we have to be in relationship not only with God, but with one another - sharing our own, unique experiences with God. Who is, who will be, who will become all that we need God to be. 

We conclude in chapter 4.

But Moses said to the Lord, “My Lord, I’ve never been able to speak well, not yesterday, not the day before, and certainly not now since you’ve been talking to your servant. I have a slow mouth and a thick tongue.”

Then the Lord said to him, “Who gives people the ability to speak? Who’s responsible for making them unable to speak or hard of hearing, sighted or blind? Isn’t it I, the Lord? Now go! I’ll help you speak, and I’ll teach you what you should say.”

But Moses said, “Please, my Lord, just send someone else.”

Then the Lord got angry at Moses and said, “What about your brother Aaron the Levite? I know he can speak very well. He’s on his way out to meet you now, and he’s looking forward to seeing you. Speak to him and tell him what he’s supposed to say. I’ll help both of you speak, and I’ll teach both of you what to do. Aaron will speak for you to the people. He’ll be a spokesperson for you, and you will be like God for him. Take this shepherd’s rod with you too so that you can do the signs.”

Moses. He is so reluctant. “I’m not worthy” moves to “I can’t speak well.” Notice that throughout the story God continues to accommodate his fears. His sense of unworthiness. His reluctance. I will be with you, I Am tells him. I will give you voice, I Will Be says to him. 

Then, finally, Moses gets to the end of his line of excuses and just says, “I don’t want to do this. Just send someone else.” “I will give you words to give to Aaron,” I Will Become promises him. Because, as much as Moses might protest, God has a plan for all of God’s people - a plan of rescue and redemption. A plan of freedom and salvation. A plan of hope through which God will shower on them blessing upon blessing. A plan through which God will keep God’s ancestral promises - to become a nation, to have a country, and through them to bless all nations.

You and I - we’re part of that plan. Part of that bigger story. And, though we may be reluctant prophets, just like Moses, we have the same call and the same promises. To share the news of the freedom we have in God through God coming to us in Christ Jesus. And that God will give us the words and the tools and the partners we need to help accomplish our small part of that expansive, all-encompassing plan of I Am, I Will Be, I Will Become.

Amen. Amen.

Preached October 3, 2021, at Grace & Glory, Prospect, and Third, Louisville.

Pentecost 19

Readings: Exodus 2:23-25; 3:1-15; 4:10-17; John 8:58

Jesus Heals: My Chosen One

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said. While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. And all were astounded at the greatness of God.

While everyone was amazed at all that he was doing, he said to his disciples, “Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is going to be betrayed into human hands.” But they did not understand this saying; its meaning was concealed from them, so that they could not perceive it. And they were afraid to ask him about this saying. --Luke 9:28-45 (NRSV)

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

It’s a big leap for us today as we jump from the seventh chapter of Luke to the ninth chapter. In between, we see Jesus’ continue to minister. To teach. And to heal, particularly those dealing with demons. At the beginning of chapter 9, the disciples are ready to be sent out. Jesus gives them power and authority over all demons and to cure diseases, verse 1 tells us. They go out into the countryside as extensions of Jesus himself, reliant upon the hospitality of those they will meet. 

At the same time, we hear the Herod is perplexed. He’s already arrested and beheaded John the Baptist. But, now he’s hearing about someone new. And even tries to see Jesus.

The disciples return and report all that they have done. As the day drew to a close, surrounded by a crowd, they are witness to God’s way of abundance - over 5,000 men, not including women and children, fed that day from five loaves of bread and two fish. It leads Peter to make a declaration about Jesus - that he truly is “the Messiah of God.” When he does, Jesus sternly tells them not to say anything. Instead, he continues to teach them what it means to be his followers. “If any want to become my followers,” Jesus tells them, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Discipleship, as they are learning, is not easy.

Then we come to today’s text. Eight days later. Jesus, as we’ve seen him do before, goes away to a quiet place to pray. This time it is on a mountaintop. And this time he takes with him those who are in his inner circle - Peter, John and James - the first of the twelve disciples. As Jesus is praying, as we heard in our text, the appearance of his face changes. As does his clothing. Then, suddenly, Moses and Elijah appear beside him, talking to him about his departure. His departure. Luke alone uses this word in the Greek - a better translation of which is “exodus.” Moses, Elijah and Jesus are talking about the exodus of Jesus. It immediately throws our mind backward. Drawing a comparison between Jesus and Israel. An echo of how the story began. The exodus story. Just one part of God’s meta-narrative. A story arc that begins even further back than the exodus to the very beginning. And the reason for that first exodus.

To the beginning of God’s story. Where God creates everything. And it is good. And then the relationship between God and humanity is broken. Over and over again, God relentlessly tries to restore that relationship. Beginning first with Israel. Calling Moses to lead Israel out of bondage. Israel’s exodus from Egypt. That they will be blessed as God’s people and through whom all people will be blessed. Led by Moses, who experiences his own theophany - his own God-sighting. On Mt. Sinai in the midst of the terrifying thunder and lightning. Witness to a God so powerful that Moses cannot even look into God’s face. Yet, whose own face becomes transfigured, like that of Jesus.

But, this attempt by God to restore the relationship does not work. Even when God sends prophets, like Elijah. Elijah, who has his own theophany, his own God sighting. But not like that of Moses. Instead, as Elijah flees Jezebel and Ahab (remember that story?), God appears to him at Mt. Horeb, also known as Sinai. God comes not as Elijah expects. Not in the wind. Not in the earthquake, not in the fire. But in sheer, sheer silence.

Even with the prophets, Israel continues to rebel. It’s the human way, isn’t it. Our way. Thinking that we know better. Seeking our own power apart from God. Like the disciples, who, even after witnessing this transfiguration moment don’t fully get it. That God still wants us. Still relentlessly seeks us. Who sends Jesus to us to once and for all restore the broken relationship. Jesus, God’s Son, breaking into our world in human form. Who has come to begin the restoration of the wholeness and abundance and goodness first tasted at the very beginning in Eden. 

The transfiguration of Jesus in Luke marks the beginning of his exodus. He will now turn his face toward Jerusalem and move into the final chapter of his incarnated life on earth. It will bring the beginning - not the end - but the beginning of the restoration of freedom for all humanity and all creation. It is a story about transformation - the hoped outcome for the church, which will be given power and authority to heal and to transform people into disciples. Disciples - you and me - to transform the world into the kingdom of God. This is the gospel. The good news of Jesus. 

As we now turn our faces with Jesus to Jerusalem. As we enter the season of Lent, a time that, once again, gives us an opportunity to move into deeper relationship with a God who loves us so deeply and who desires nothing for us other than Eden’s shalom, these are the questions for us. How will we meet God? How will we be transfigured? And how will we transform our small part of the world?

Preached February 14, 2021, at Grace & Glory Lutheran and Third Lutheran churches, Goshen and Louisville, KY

Transfiguration of Our Lord

Readings: Luke 9:25-48; Psalm 36:5-10

Promises Made, Promises Broken: Fear and Idols

Before today’s reading, we have both some catching up to do from last week’s story. Plus, a little remembering.

When we left off last week, the Pharaoh had finally agreed after the tenth plague and the Hebrew Passover to let God’s people go. In the intervening chapters, we read the story of Israel’s journey to freedom. Their passage through the Red Sea and God saving them from the Egyptian army.

Israel is led by Moses into the wilderness and eventually to the foot of Mount Sinai. Mount Sinai is also known as Mount Horeb, which, coincidence or not, is where Moses was first called by God to lead Israel out of slavery. It is on Mount Sinai where God comes down to be with God’s new people, Israel.

Now before we move on, we need to remember back to Genesis and to the Garden of Eden. It was in Eden that humanity was in the presence of God -  in a close and good relationship with God. Access to God’s presence, though, was eventually lost because of the rebellion of humanity. It was then that God came to Abraham and made him a promise - that through him God would bring blessing to all of the nations. But, there was a second promise to Abraham. That through him the relationship with God would be restored along with access to God’s presence. 

Which brings us back to Sinai. God come down to the top of Mount Sinai. But God’s presence is anything but comforting. So, the people send Moses up the mountain to meet with God. 

Up until now, God hasn’t asked anything of Israel. But now, God invites them back into relationship - into covenant. And with this, God is going to ask them now to do something, giving them a whole set of laws, beginning with the ten commandments. The idea is that if Israel obeys the terms of the covenant, they will be so shaped and formed by God’s laws, teaching and justice that they will become a kingdom of priests to show all the nations what God is truly like. The people accept this invitation eagerly. 

So, Moses goes up a second time to meet God and to receive all of these laws, along with lengthy and detailed instructions on the building of a tent. It is this tent that will be the tabernacle, where access to God will be restored and Israel and God can live together in peace.

But, then, something goes seriously wrong, which is where our story today picks up.

The people saw that Moses was taking a long time to come down from the mountain. They gathered around Aaron and said to him, “Come on! Make us gods who can lead us. As for this man Moses who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we don’t have a clue what has happened to him.”

Aaron said to them, “All right, take out the gold rings from the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters, and bring them to me.” So all the people took out the gold rings from their ears and brought them to Aaron. He collected them and tied them up in a cloth. Then he made a metal image of a bull calf, and the people declared, “These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!”

When Aaron saw this, he built an altar in front of the calf. Then Aaron announced, “Tomorrow will be a festival to the Lord!” They got up early the next day and offered up entirely burned offerings and brought well-being sacrifices. The people sat down to eat and drink and then got up to celebrate.

The Lord spoke to Moses: “Hurry up and go down! Your people, whom you brought up out of the land of Egypt, are ruining everything! They’ve already abandoned the path that I commanded. They have made a metal bull calf for themselves. They’ve bowed down to it and offered sacrifices to it and declared, ‘These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!’” The Lord said to Moses, “I’ve been watching these people, and I’ve seen how stubborn they are. Now leave me alone! Let my fury burn and devour them. Then I’ll make a great nation out of you.”

But Moses pleaded with the Lord his God, “Lord, why does your fury burn against your own people, whom you brought out of the land of Egypt with great power and amazing force? Why should the Egyptians say, ‘He had an evil plan to take the people out and kill them in the mountains and so wipe them off the earth’? Calm down your fierce anger. Change your mind about doing terrible things to your own people. Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, your servants, whom you yourself promised, ‘I’ll make your descendants as many as the stars in the sky. And I’ve promised to give your descendants this whole land to possess for all time.’” Then the Lord changed his mind about the terrible things he said he would do to his people.  Exodus 32:1-14 (CEB)

It’s interesting, isn’t it, what happens when fear kicks in. Up to this point, Moses has for the people been the representation of God. But, as he is delayed in coming back down from the mountain, the people begin to be afraid. As they wait at the bottom of the mountain, their anxiety builds. These people who have been traumatized by lives lived under slavery, who have been liberated in an amazing, yet terrifying, way by God, begin to be afraid. Then, when Moses doesn’t return, day after day, one can only wonder what they are thinking. That this God had brought them out of slavery, that Moses has abandoned them, and that they will simply perish in the wilderness. 

So, they turn to the one remaining representative of God in their midst. Aaron. Our English translation doesn’t give it justice. In fact the language in the original Hebrew suggests that they confront Aaron angrily and demand that he do something. Israel had just agreed to the rules and they immediately mess them up. Even as Aaron tries to bring them back in, it is impossible. Because the fear has taken hold of them.

I wonder how often this happens to us. How often fear takes hold of us and we allow it pull us away from God and from who God wants us to be. And if you say that this never happens to you, perhaps you are the one most living in fear.

Up on the mountain, we see a God who is angry and who wants to destroy the people. “Your people,” God says to Moses. “Your people whom you brought up out of the land of Egypt - they are ruining everything.”

God then proposes a backup plan - that God will destroy the people and make a new nation from Moses. It’s not clear whether God is completely fed up with Israel or whether this is just some kind of test for Moses. But, then, God tells Moses to leave - to give God some space so that God’s anger can burn hot.

It’s an uncomfortable image of God for us, isn’t it? It messes with our concept of a God who is tender and compassionate and reframes it to remember that there is this ferocious side to God who doesn’t abide people doing things in violation of God’s covenant. It makes us a little uncomfortable, doesn’t it? But, isn’t it true that, if we have tamed God then we, too, have begun to worship a false god like Israel? And, perhaps, need to be reminded that God is a power that is not to be trifled with?

Moses responds. His approach is interesting here - perhaps a little bit of reverse psychology. He figures out what will matter to God and then helps God remember. First, he appeals to God’s reputation. “This will look bad for you. You brought Israel out with such power. How will this look to all the nations?” Then, Moses appeals to God’s character and reminds God of God’s obligation under the covenant. “Remember the patriarchs and your promise to them? Do you want to break that promise?” 

Then, our story tells us, “the LORD changed his mind.”

This entire mountaintop scene may make us a little uneasy.  It may make us struggle between a biblical understanding and a philosophical understanding of God. Isn’t God, after all, unchangeable? Steadfast? Faithful? 

Yet, the twist to this story is that, by its end, Moses has helped God to remain unchanged - by keeping God’s covenant with Israel. By sticking with the original plan. God was about to change, but Moses has talked God into keeping God’s original promise. Unchanged. Steadfast. Faithful to God’s own promises. 

This is the God we know, the God we trust. The God described just a couple of chapters later: The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in covenant faithfulness. Forgiving sin, but not leaving the wicked unpunished. (Ex. 34:6-7)

Perhaps that’s the most important message for us in this text today. We, who are followers of Jesus, God’s Son sent to us to redeem us. To restore us back into relationship and into the presence of God. No matter how many times we mess up. No matter how often our fear drives us away to other gods. God continues to seek us out. Relentlessly. Steadfastly. With covenantal faithfulness. 

May this give us comfort in times of fear. In times of anxiety. And at every time in our lives.  Amen.

Preached October 11, 2020, online with Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY

19th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Exodus 32:1-14; Luke 22:33-34

Misseo Deo

After a long time the king of Egypt died. The Israelites groaned under their slavery, and cried out. Out of the slavery their cry for help rose up to God. God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God looked upon the Israelites, and God took notice of them.

So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”

But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’:

This is my name forever,

and this my title for all generations.

But Moses said to the Lord, “O my Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor even now that you have spoken to your servant; but I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.” Then the Lord said to him, “Who gives speech to mortals? Who makes them mute or deaf, seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you are to speak.” But he said, “O my Lord, please send someone else.” Then the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses and he said, “What of your brother Aaron the Levite? I know that he can speak fluently; even now he is coming out to meet you, and when he sees you his heart will be glad. You shall speak to him and put the words in his mouth; and I will be with your mouth and with his mouth, and will teach you what you shall do. He indeed shall speak for you to the people; he shall serve as a mouth for you, and you shall serve as God for him. Take in your hand this staff, with which you shall perform the signs.”  Exodus 2:23-25; 3:10-15; 4:10-17 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from God--our Creator, Redeemer, and Restorer.  Amen.

This past summer, when our worship committee made the decision to shift to a new lectionary--to the Narrative Lectionary--it was after we’d spent much of the summer immersed in the stories of the Hebrew Scriptures. 

I don’t know about your own experiences, but these are the stories I grew up with. The stories that were told to us in Sunday school and in Vacation Bible School. The stories of creation and of the fall, the stories of Noah and the ark, the stories of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, the stories of Moses and Israel. First, in Egypt and, then, freed from the bondage of slavery. And on and on and on. There were the stories of our faith, I was told. The stories of who we are as a people.

But, somehow, I could never really connect the dots. What was God’s meta-narrative anyway? How did these stories connect to it? And, more importantly, what was my connection to these stories and to this meta-narrative?

It was only until seminary, in a missiology class, that the light bulb went on.

Missiology is just a fancy word for the study of mission. More particularly, it is the study of God’s mission. The misseo Deo. Of God’s plan. And how, as God implements that plan, God continues to reveal more and more of God’s nature to us.

What that plan is--that meta-plan or meta-narrative--what it is has long been debated among theologians. Generally, though, it can be reduced down into four basic elements: creation, fall, redemption, and restoration. Creation. Fall. Redemption. Restoration.

At the beginning of September, we started at the beginning with the creation story. About how God--a god already in relationship (Creator-Father, Redeemer-Son, Restorer-Spirit)--desired to be in even greater relationship. And so, this relational God creates. God enters into the world and begins to create. To first bring a place of chaos into an ordered world. Then, to populate that newly-created, newly-ordered place. With animals and birds and other creatures. And then with human beings--called to be caretakers of that world. God entered in and created a place of beauty and flourishing. God created a place that was good.

Creation.

And, then, it all fell apart. Literally.

Beginning with the fall of those first beings and then a continued descent into anger and hatred, murder and devastation. God saw how sin and brokenness was tearing the world--God’s good and beautiful world--apart. Full of wickedness. And falling apart. The result of sin and brokenness.

The Fall.

At first, God regretted God’s creation. Genesis 6:7 tell us that God was sorry he had made creation. God regretted it--but, just a moment. God refused to walk away. Instead, God devised a plan. God’s mission. The misseo Deo, if you like. And that plan started with a remnant of people. Noah and his family. People who continued to follow God, who sought to live out who God desired them to be. Human beings who found “favor in the sight of the Lord.” 

So, God started on a plan of redemption. To begin with a remnant of humanity and to form them into a select people. To enter into a covenant with them. A covenant that sought to redeem them and bring them back into full relationship with God. And, then, to expand that to all of humanity.

Redemption.

The story of God seeking to bring redemption to a fallen humanity began with Abraham. It began with Abraham and a promise. A promise that through Abraham this blessed nation would come and that Abraham and his descendants would be blessed so that they could be a great blessing to others. 

Today, in our reading, we have an important next step in that redemption narrative, in the formation of God’s people. Last week, we left off with Jacob. Jacob, that son of Isaac, grandson of Abraham, who lived so fully into his name. Meaning trickster. 

If you haven’t noticed it yet, names are really important in scripture. Jacob’s name would eventually be changed to Israel. Which means “God strives.” It would be through Jacob--through Israel--that God would strive to continue to grow God’s people. To grow them into a nation.

By the time our story begins today, several generations have passed. We have moved out of the book of Genesis (meaning “beginning”) and into the book of Exodus (meaning “departure”). The book begins in Egypt, which is where Jacob would eventually end up. Jacob (or Israel) has grown into a large nation. So, large, in fact, that they are becoming a threat to the Egyptians. Particularly to the political leadership of Egypt, who are watching them grow and become increasingly worried that their own people will become a minority people. 

And, so, they begin to oppress Israel. Ruthlessly. The first two chapters of Exodus tell us that the Egyptians made their lives bitter. And that Israel groaned under their slavery. That they cried out. That out of their slavery “their cry for help rose up to God.” 
God heard them. We read in the first verse of our lesson today that [read Exodus 2:24-25]. 

So God devised a plan. To rescue Israel.

Do you notice here that God doesn’t choose to work alone, to rescue Israel alone? God could, you know. God could make that choice. God takes the initiative, develops a plan, but does not work alone. God calls Moses. “Moshe” in the Hebrew, which means “to draw out.” God calls Moses to draw the Israelites out of Israel, out of bondage and servitude, out of slavery. 

Then, there’s this amazing dialogue after God calls Moses. Moses doesn’t drop everything and run. He doesn’t immediately agree with God. He raises sharp objections to God over God’s call. Eight objections, to be exact. God never tells Moses to be quiet. Or ignores his concerns. Instead, God responds to each objection in turn. One after the other. It is through this conversation, this dialogue, that Moses gains fuller knowledge. In God’s interaction with a questioning human, God more fully reveals who God is. 

It is one of God’s responses to Moses, in particular, that we gain a much deeper understanding of who this God is. When Moses asks God, “When they ask me ‘Who this God’s name is?’ what will I tell them?” God responds with God’s name. For the very first time, in conversation with a questioning Moses, God gives him God’s own personal name. 

The Hebrew here is actually untranslatable. Ehyeh-asher-ehyeh. Untranslatable. The earliest recorded understanding of the divine name--of God’s personal name--was as a verb derived from a three-letter stem. The verb “to be”. An absolute Being. Eternal. Unchanging. Dynamic. We know it in English as the Tetragrammaton, which means the “four consonants.” A name that has been translated to mean “I Am That I Am,” or “I Am Who I Am,” or “I Will Be What I Will Be. A name that would be so revered by Israel that, in later Jewish history, they would not say it out loud. 

In giving God’s own, personal name to Moses, God is saying to him, “I am entering into relationship with you.” God has called Moses into relationship. And promises “to be” for Moses. Absolute. Eternal. Unchanging. Dynamic.

In the same way, God has called us in our baptisms. Giving us God’s name. Children of God. Entering into relationship with us. And promising, in Christ, “to be” for us. Absolute. Eternal. Unchanging. Dynamic. God’s meta-narrative becomes our micro-narrative. One by one. Redeemed and restored into relationship with God.

And, yet, our story, our micro-narrative, is part of God’s overarching story. A story of salvation. Of God seeking redemption for us in Christ Jesus. It is a story of freedom from bondage. And it is a story of God’s formation of God’s own people. So that we, and all of humanity, might be restored into fullness of relationship with God. Into fullness of relationship with our animals here, with all creatures, and with creation.  With God and all of creation.

This is God’s plan. God’s mission. We are part of it. Fully redeemed in Christ, it is our mission, too. Our mission with God to all the world.

May God bless out work together. Amen.

Preached October 1, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 17.
Readings: Exodus 2:23-25, 3:10-15, 4:10-17; John 8:58.

Persist

Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph. He said to his people, “Look, the Israelite people are more numerous and more powerful than we. Come, let us deal shrewdly with them, or they will increase and, in the event of war, join our enemies and fight against us and escape from the land.” Therefore they set taskmasters over them to oppress them with forced labor. They built supply cities, Pithom and Rameses, for Pharaoh. But the more they were oppressed, the more they multiplied and spread, so that the Egyptians came to dread the Israelites. The Egyptians became ruthless in imposing tasks on the Israelites, and made their lives bitter with hard service in mortar and brick and in every kind of field labor. They were ruthless in all the tasks that they imposed on them.

The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, one of whom was named Shiphrah and the other Puah, “When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live.” But the midwives feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live. So the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and said to them, “Why have you done this, and allowed the boys to live?” The midwives said to Pharaoh, “Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women; for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife comes to them.” So God dealt well with the midwives; and the people multiplied and became very strong. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families. Then Pharaoh commanded all his people, “Every boy that is born to the Hebrews you shall throw into the Nile, but you shall let every girl live.”

Now a man from the house of Levi went and married a Levite woman. The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a fine baby, she hid him three months. When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river. His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.

The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it. When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him. “This must be one of the Hebrews’ children,” she said. Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Yes.” So the girl went and called the child’s mother. Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed it. When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and she took him as her son. She named him Moses, “because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.” --Exodus 1:8-2:10 (NRSV)

Grace and peace to you from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

As our Genesis reading left off last week, Joseph, son of Jacob (or Israel, as we now know him), grandson of Isaac, great-grandson of Abraham, had, after decades, been reconciled with his brothers in Egypt. All of them, including their father Israel, were now in Egypt. Because of the deep famine in Canaan, Joseph had sought land for them from the pharaoh, who had given his permission for them to live in Goshen. A border province.  In Genesis 47, Goshen is described as “the best part of the land.” That certainly still rings true today, doesn’t it?

As time passed, the famine continued and grew even deeper. People from other lands came to Egypt, seeking out Joseph to trade their land for food. Scripture tells us that Joseph bought all of the land of Egypt for Pharaoh. Through his brilliant administrative skills, Joseph made the Pharaoh one of the richest and most powerful rulers in the entire area.  

At the same time, Israel became more and more settled in Egypt in that region of Goshen. The family gained possessions there and, our story tells us, they were “fruitful and multiplied exceedingly.”

Seventeen years passed. Israel’s death drew near. On his deathbed, Israel extracted a promise from Joseph--that Joseph would not bury his father in Egypt, but would take his body back to Canaan. That the Cave of Machpelah would be his final resting place. The burial home of Abraham and Sarah, of Isaac and Rebekah, of Leah.

Joseph also brought his two sons to be blessed by Israel. And, as we have seen so many times before in earlier stories, this blessing was anything but ordinary. Joseph had placed each of his two sons on either side of Israel’s bed, with the oldest and firstborn--Manasseh--on Israel’s right side. And with the youngest--Ephraim--on Israel’s left. As Israel raised his hands to bless his grandsons, he crossed his arms and gave the blessing not to the first born, but instead to Ephraim, the youngest. 

Once again, in God's world, tradition and convention or turned upside down. The unexpected happens and things are anything but ordinary.

And, then, it is time for Israel’s generation to end. The last verse of chapter 49 tells us that Jacob breathed his last, and was gathered to his people. Soon, it was time for Joseph’s generation to end. In the very next chapter, we read that Joseph made the Israelites (who had now grown in size)...Joseph made them swear that they would carry his bones back to Canaan. Just like his father. Then, Joseph, too, died. 

From generation to generation. Over these weeks and through the centuries, we have followed the ancestral family of Abraham to this point. Abraham and Sarah. And their descendents. Persisting. All of them living into the promise that God would make of them a great nation. And that God would bless them so that they could be a blessing. Trusting. Believing it. And persisting.

And then there are these women in today’s story. Persisting. Beginning with the midwives. Women whose work it is to support life who are told to take it. By a new king, a new regime, a new dynasty who has forgotten. A pharaoh who has forgotten or never known the story of Joseph and Joseph’s God. Forgotten or never known how Joseph helped enrich and empower the previous pharaoh. A leader who seeks to have “power over” the Israelites and who creates a false narrative. A false story about the “enemy within.”  Those Israelites, those immigrants who are going to grow and grow and eventually seek to overcome “us.”

It is an old, convenient political narrative that we still hear today. Be afraid of the immigrant. Be afraid of the foreigner. Be afraid of the other. It is a false narrative that is designed to divide people and to keep people apart. And to keep the rich and powerful in power.

But, these women. These midwives. This sister. This mother. This princess. All resist this false narrative in their own ways. All resist this evil.

When Pharaoh comes to the midwives and tells them to kill babies instead of keep them alive, they know. They know that God desires life. And so they refuse. And when he asks why, they play into his own stereotypes and immigrants and their breeding habits. “You know these Hebrew women aren’t like Egyptian women. They are vigorous and they give birth even before we get to them,” they say to the Pharaoh. Even though, they know this isn’t true.

Then, Pharaoh moves onto the people and tells all of them to throw baby boys into the Nile. The resistance doesn’t end with the midwives, but extends into the population. To the mother of Moses and his sister. 

The language in these verses is incredible. It is language that is reminiscent of new beginnings. Of new eras. For example, in verse 2 of Exodus 2, when we read that a Levite woman conceived and bore a son, our text says that she saw “that he was a fine baby.” In the original Hebrew, this is the same language used about creation in Genesis 1. That it was “good.” 

And, then, in verse 3, we read how this mother could no longer hide this baby, this “good” baby. And so she found a papyrus basket for him. To save him.

Here the original word for “basket” is the same word used for “ark” in Noah’s story. 

So, in just two words, the writer of Exodus has connected up the story of the creation of the world into the story of the creation of the Israelites as a people. They are no longer just a family or a clan. But they have become a nation. About to embark upon a new era. 

Through it all, the women continue to persist. To persist against evil. Against strategies that are designed to divide people. And to persist against forces that seek death instead of life. That seek division instead of unity. Forces that run contrary to God’s desire for life. And for God’s desire that all people might be unified. Not identical to each other. But unified in their diversity. In the beautifully diverse ways in which God has created us.

We know the rest of the story. How against the odds, God ensured the safety of this young Moses. How God worked through these persistent women to ensure an upbringing for Moses in God’s ways. How God eventually brought Moses up to be that leader who would lead his own people to freedom. In the same way that Christ has led us to freedom.

And, so, like the women in our story, we, too, are called to persist. To push back against those forces that seek to divide people instead of uniting them. To persist against forces that seek death, those forces that are contrary to God’s desire for life. And that are contrary to God’s desire for all creation.

God’s ways. They are not ordinary, are they? We have heard over and over how God upsets the status quo. The powers that be. How God breaks into the false narratives that are used to divide people. God’s ways are not ordinary. In fact, they are anything, but ordinary.

May be remember this as we leave from here and go into the world and into our own lives. As we persist and seek to live out our lives in ways that, like God, bring life. For us and for all those we meet. May God grant it.

Amen.

Preached August 27, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
12th Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: Exodus 1:8-2:10; Psalm 124; Romans 12:1-8, Matthew 16:13-20.