ReMember: God Remembers

The Lord saw that humanity had become thoroughly evil on the earth and that every idea their minds thought up was always completely evil. The Lord regretted making human beings on the earth, and he was heartbroken. So the Lord said, “I will wipe off of the land the human race that I’ve created: from human beings to livestock to the crawling things to the birds in the skies, because I regret I ever made them.” But as for Noah, the Lord approved of him.

These are Noah’s descendants. In his generation, Noah was a moral and exemplary man; he walked with God. Noah had three sons: Shem, Ham, and Japheth. In God’s sight, the earth had become corrupt and was filled with violence. God saw that the earth was corrupt, because all creatures behaved corruptly on the earth.

God said to Noah, “The end has come for all creatures, since they have filled the earth with violence. I am now about to destroy them along with the earth, so make a wooden ark. Make the ark with nesting places and cover it inside and out with tar. This is how you should make it: four hundred fifty feet long, seventy-five feet wide, and forty-five feet high. Make a roof for the ark and complete it one foot from the top. Put a door in its side. In the hold below, make the second and third decks.

“I am now bringing the floodwaters over the earth to destroy everything under the sky that breathes. Everything on earth is about to take its last breath. But I will set up my covenant with you. You will go into the ark together with your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives. From all living things—from all creatures—you are to bring a pair, male and female, into the ark with you to keep them alive. From each kind of bird, from each kind of livestock, and from each kind of everything that crawls on the ground—a pair from each will go in with you to stay alive. Take some from every kind of food and stow it as food for you and for the animals.”

Noah did everything exactly as God commanded him.

After forty days, Noah opened the window of the ark that he had made. He sent out a raven, and it flew back and forth until the waters over the entire earth had dried up. Then he sent out a dove to see if the waters on all of the fertile land had subsided, but the dove found no place to set its foot. It returned to him in the ark since waters still covered the entire earth. Noah stretched out his hand, took it, and brought it back into the ark. He waited seven more days and sent the dove out from the ark again. The dove came back to him in the evening, grasping a torn olive leaf in its beak. Then Noah knew that the waters were subsiding from the earth. He waited seven more days and sent out the dove, but it didn’t come back to him again.

God said to Noah and to his sons with him, “I am now setting up my covenant with you, with your descendants, and with every living being with you—with the birds, with the large animals, and with all the animals of the earth, leaving the ark with you. I will set up my covenant with you so that never again will all life be cut off by floodwaters. There will never again be a flood to destroy the earth.”

God said, “This is the symbol of the covenant that I am drawing up between me and you and every living thing with you, on behalf of every future generation. I have placed my bow in the clouds; it will be the symbol of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow appears in the clouds, I will remember the covenant between me and you and every living being among all the creatures. Floodwaters will never again destroy all creatures. The bow will be in the clouds, and upon seeing it I will remember the enduring covenant between God and every living being of all the earth’s creatures.” God said to Noah, “This is the symbol of the covenant that I have set up between me and all creatures on earth.” --Genesis 6:5-22, 8:6-12, 9:8-17 (CEB)

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

Holy moly! Isn’t it a little crazy that so many people - some of us likely included - have decided that the events of Noah and the flood are appropriate with which to decorate nurseries. Seriously. This story is terrifying.

Welcome to the beginning of the lectionary year. In the Narrative Lectionary, it is customary that on the first Sunday of the lectionary year, we hear a story from what is called the primordial history. This primordial (or primeval) history consists of the first eleven chapters of Genesis. These are the mythic stories of faith - stories that speak to us in universal truths. They describe not only how things came to be for us as people of faith, but why things are the way they are. 

Usually, we begin with one of the two creation stories in Genesis 1 or 2. But, once every four years, we hear this story. Of God. Of God’s regret. And, then, of Noah and the flood. In some respects it’s a story of creation. But, really, it's more a story of un-creating than it is creating. Do you notice, especially, when we hear the language describing the creatures as they are loaded onto Noah’s ark - the language and its cadence - that it sounds remarkably similar to many of the lines of Genesis 1? This account of God un-creating the world borrows and echoes words and phrases from the first story. Even the sequence moves backwards from humanity, to land animals, to birds, then to food plants.

But, before we get too far into the story, I want to back up to the very beginning. In its opening lines, we hear the depth of God’s emotion. The heartbreak. And, perhaps most troubling, the regret that God felt at having created humanity. God is grieved “to the heart” and twice “sorry” about having spoken creation into being in the first place. God intended a world that behaved and believed very differently from the one that developed. That God was facing in this story. Perhaps, even, the one that God is facing in our world today.

I don’t know about you, but, as a parent, I get it. There were many times when I just wanted to walk away. Tired and exhausted and dealing with one more challenge with my son, I understand, even in some very minute way, how God was feeling. 

It was an evil place, this time of Noah. Wickedness abounds, both in the imagination of the heart and also in societies these humans have created. God is ready to call it quits. One Jewish theologian to whom I frequently listen put it this way. “Have you ever started a project with all excitement and energy, but then come to a realization that things are a mess. That this is not going to work. And that it's time to just shut it down." That’s where God is, she suggests. Ready to “blot out” every living thing from the face of the earth. The Hebrew word meaning to “rub away” as one might rub ink off old parchment. To un-remember. And simply forget it ever happened. Some theologians have suggested that God’s uncreating in this story is less a kid kicking his sandcastle apart at the beach and more a simple turning away. And without God’s sustaining and creative presence, things fall apart. 

But. That’s how chapter 8 begins. It’s in the word “but” where we hear the good news. “But God remembered Noah and all of the beasts and cattle that were with him in the ark.” God can’t quite go all the way, apparently. As God responded to the disobedience of Eve and Adam in the story in Eden and as we will see time after time in the stories that follow, God’s deadly wrath is overcome by our Creator’s more powerful inclination toward salvation. At the heart of this story, setting every challenging aspect aside for just a moment, is a God who, no matter how grieved and angry, is in love with the universe and its creatures, particularly those of us of the two-legged variety who somehow share that same mysterious image of God.

We’re reminded of this in the words of Isaiah 49, “Can a woman forget her nursing baby, that she should have no compassion on the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.”

God remembers that last good remaining speck of creation and turns again toward it. Notice the movement of God from distant to intimate. From the broader view of humanity to Noah. God sees Noah and moves toward him. To a personal relationship with him.  To save him. God’s remembering of Noah leads to God’s salvation of Noah. And a promise - a covenant - to Noah to never again abandon creation to chaos, but to stay in relationship. To stay in the sustaining relationship with creation that makes life possible. A promise marked by a sign. A rainbow. Not so much to help us remember, but to help God remember. 

It is here, in this primordial story, in this teachable moment for God, that God opts in for the sacrificial, messier, more inefficient, more vulnerable route of real relationship. With Noah. And with you. And with me. And God promises, in Christ, to remember us. Forever and ever.

Amen.

Preached September 11, 2022, at Grace & Glory Lutheran, Prospect/Goshen, KY, with Third Lutheran, Louisville, KY.

14th Sunday after Pentecost

Reading: Genesis 6:5-22, 8:6-12, 9:8-17

God's Promises Bring Hope: Our Promise-Keeper

Hasn’t this past week felt a little unsettling? With everything in the news, with concern about what’s happening in Washington, or with the hurricane in the Gulf coast area, doesn’t it sometimes seem like the world is a really scary and bad place?

Well, that’s how the story of Noah begins--when the world was a scary and bad place, just as for us today. And, yet, the story ends when God places a rainbow in the clouds as a symbol of promise and as a sign of the covenant between God and all living creatures.

This story can feel difficult for hear when we are living in a world like today--where extreme events seem to be a regular occurance. We might find ourselves asking in these times--in natural disasters or disasters that are human made--we might ask, “Where is God in this event?”

Who of you remembers Mister Rogers? Mister Rogers used to share that, in times of crisis, his grandmother and his parents would tell him to “look for the helpers.” That, if you looked on the edges of the event, you could often see helpers there, quietly at work, caring for others and for God’s creation. You see, the “helpers” are the ones who take part in God’s covenant promise to care for creation. Let’s watch Mister Rogers!

Think about those people who are the "helpers" in difficult situations. Make a list of how you can be a helper for someone who is scared, how you might be able to help care for God's creation.

Prayer: God, sometimes the world can be a scary place. But we know that you are always with us. In the Bible we read over and over about your promise to save us. We remember your promise every time we see a rainbow. Thank you for being stronger than the scary things of this world. We pray, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

The story of Noah and the ark is a well-known story. Some of us have likely heard it many times in our lives. As we hear it today, I want you to think about these questions: What bothers you about this text? What does this text tell you about God? What does this story have to do with the way you live your life?

The Lord saw that humanity had become thoroughly evil on the earth and that every idea their minds thought up was always completely evil. The Lord regretted making human beings on the earth, and he was heartbroken. So the Lord said, “I will wipe off of the land the human race that I’ve created: from human beings to livestock to the crawling things to the birds in the skies, because I regret I ever made them.” But as for Noah, the Lord approved of him.

These are Noah’s descendants. In his generation, Noah was a moral and exemplary man; he walked with God. Noah had three sons: Shem, Ham, and Japheth. In God’s sight, the earth had become corrupt and was filled with violence. God saw that the earth was corrupt, because all creatures behaved corruptly on the earth.

God said to Noah, “The end has come for all creatures, since they have filled the earth with violence. I am now about to destroy them along with the earth, so make a wooden ark. Make the ark with nesting places and cover it inside and out with tar. This is how you should make it: four hundred fifty feet long, seventy-five feet wide, and forty-five feet high. Make a roof for the ark and complete it one foot from the top. Put a door in its side. In the hold below, make the second and third decks.

“I am now bringing the floodwaters over the earth to destroy everything under the sky that breathes. Everything on earth is about to take its last breath. But I will set up my covenant with you. You will go into the ark together with your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives. From all living things—from all creatures—you are to bring a pair, male and female, into the ark with you to keep them alive.  From each kind of bird, from each kind of livestock, and from each kind of everything that crawls on the ground—a pair from each will go in with you to stay alive.  Take some from every kind of food and stow it as food for you and for the animals.”

Noah did everything exactly as God commanded him.

After forty days, Noah opened the window of the ark that he had made.  He sent out a raven, and it flew back and forth until the waters over the entire earth had dried up.  Then he sent out a dove to see if the waters on all of the fertile land had subsided, but the dove found no place to set its foot. It returned to him in the ark since waters still covered the entire earth. Noah stretched out his hand, took it, and brought it back into the ark.  He waited seven more days and sent the dove out from the ark again. The dove came back to him in the evening, grasping a torn olive leaf in its beak. Then Noah knew that the waters were subsiding from the earth. He waited seven more days and sent out the dove, but it didn’t come back to him again.

God said to Noah and to his sons with him, “I am now setting up my covenant with you, with your descendants, and with every living being with you—with the birds, with the large animals, and with all the animals of the earth, leaving the ark with you. I will set up my covenant with you so that never again will all life be cut off by floodwaters. There will never again be a flood to destroy the earth.”

God said, “This is the symbol of the covenant that I am drawing up between me and you and every living thing with you, on behalf of every future generation. I have placed my bow in the clouds; it will be the symbol of the covenant between me and the earth. When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow appears in the clouds, I will remember the covenant between me and you and every living being among all the creatures. Floodwaters will never again destroy all creatures. The bow will be in the clouds, and upon seeing it I will remember the enduring covenant between God and every living being of all the earth’s creatures.” God said to Noah, “This is the symbol of the covenant that I have set up between me and all creatures on earth.”  Genesis 6:5-22, 8:6-12, 9:8-17 (CEB)

It’s important for us to understand that, in the ancient world, people told stories about floods. The Sumerians, the Africans, the Babylonians--all of these people told stories about floods. In particular, they told stories about water and its power to destroy towns and cities, and even whole civilizations. There were also stories--in these times--of people who built boats to survive these floods.

Floods were often believed to be divine judgment by angry gods. Gods who were angry with people for messing everything up. So, through floods, the angry gods “cleared the deck” to start all over again.

So, it’s not really unusual that, when we come to Genesis 6, we hear a flood story. This story--with Noah, and his ark, and his family and the animals--is like all the other flood stories because, of course, this god is like the other gods. Angry. Fed up with an evil humanity. Evil in every way--in thoughts and in actions. 

So, this god--like all those others--decides once again to unleash divine wrath on the world through a flood.

But, then, something strange happens with this story. It ends with a promise from this god that this will never happen again. What? God literally says to Noah, “I will place my ‘bow’ in the clouds as a sign of this promise.” A bow--like an archer’s bow. God puts up God’s weapon and says, “No more!” This God will be different from the other gods. This God will commit to living with people in a new way--a way in which life is not destroyed, but is preserved and respected. 

So, why was this story told? Why did it matter? And why did it endure throughout the ages?

Well, imagine what it was like to live in this time--no weather reports, no Google earth images, no airplanes or weather satellites. You’d likely never have travelled more than a few miles from where you were born. Then, imagine what a massive flood must have felt like--coming at you out of nowhere. Wiping out your house and your crops and your animals and your family members. Gone. 

What would that do to your psyche? How would you respond to such an event?

You would do exactly what we do when we suffer. We look for reasons. For causes. To understand why this is happening to me. To us. So, in the ancient world, it was generally believed that the causes of these floods were gods who were angry. That’s how people made sense in stories of the world and of floods.

But, this tale, in Genesis was different. Even though it began with the same old story--of divine judgment and a flood--there’s a huge twist at the end. Everybody doesn’t die, as in the other stories. A family is spared. And, then, a promise is made to them--a promise with a sign. The sign of the rainbow.

Because this flood story is the story of a God who wants to relate to us. Who grieves deeply when we push God away from us. Because God is a God who wants to save. A God who wants to be in covenant with us. 

This flood story is a story about a new view of God. Not a God who wants to destroy humanity, but a God who wants to be in relationship with us. And who promises to stay with us, even in the midst of our messy and chaotic world.

God sent a rainbow as a sign that God would never again destroy the earth. And, then, God set out to write a new story--a story about love and salvation. About God keeping God’s promises. Our God is a promise-keeper. And, because we know this, we can trust God’s word.

Sometimes, though, isn’t it hard to trust that promise? We need to be honest about that with ourselves and with others, too. 

When is it hard for you to trust the promises of God? Perhaps it's in times of challenge or loneliness? Or maybe in times of fear and frustration.

Think about that. Then, remember that, regardless of our fears, God sets the rainbow in the sky as a promise that God will never forsake us. That God will always be with us. This is God’s promise. And God is our promise-keeper. Amen.

Preached Sunday, September 9, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

Pentecost 16

Reading: Genesis 6:5-22, 8:6-12, 9:8-17

*The concept of the flood story utilized is done so with much gratitude to that given by Rob Bell in his book, What Is the Bible? How an Ancient Library of Poems, Letters, and Stories Can Transform the Way You Think and Feel About Everything.

Being Called

Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. The Lord called Samuel again, a third time. And he got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the boy. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down; and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.

Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering forever.”

Samuel lay there until morning; then he opened the doors of the house of the Lord. Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. But Eli called Samuel and said, “Samuel, my son.” He said, “Here I am.” Eli said, “What was it that he told you? Do not hide it from me. May God do so to you and more also, if you hide anything from me of all that he told you.” So Samuel told him everything and hid nothing from him. Then he said, “It is the Lord; let him do what seems good to him.”

As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground. And all Israel from Dan to Beer-sheba knew that Samuel was a trustworthy prophet of the Lord. The Lord continued to appear at Shiloh, for the Lord revealed himself to Samuel at Shiloh by the word of the Lord. 1 Samuel 3:1-21 (NRSV)

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

As we begin today’s story--the calling of Samuel--we have fast forwarded in history from our lesson last week. There’s been some serious time travel across the books of Exodus, Joshua and Judges.

When we last gathered together, we were following the exodus of Israel out of slavery in Egypt into wandering in the desert. After freeing Israel, God reconstructed them in the Sinai wilderness. It was here that God entered into covenant with Israel--that they would be God’s own special people. Under this agreement, God promised to be their God if they would follow the Instruction given to Moses--the law that Moses had received from God on Mount Sinai. Israel was a people governed directly by God through Moses, who acted as mediator. They were a people blessed by God. Blessed so that they could be a blessing to others.

After a generation of moving through the wilderness, they reached the land promised to them by God. The land of Canaan. It is here, at the point of entry into this Promised Land, that Moses dies. It is here that Joshua steps in as Moses’ successor, as the new leader of and mediator for Israel. Throughout the book of Joshua, we learn of Israel’s entry and settlement in Canaan. The story ends with yet another renewal of the covenant between God and Israel. It also ends with Joshua’s death.

The book of Judges, in picking up the story of Israel--of God’s people--deals with two questions. How will Israel now conduct its affairs as the people of God who are settled in their God-given home? And, how will Israel be governed now that there is no Moses or Joshua to exercise leadership?

It is not long in Canaan, before it all begins to fall apart. Before people go astray. That they are conquered by a nearby nation. Then, they cry out, as we have so often heard them do before. And, God, faithful always, responds. 

In response, God sends in a prophet-judge, who assists in bringing God’s people back to faith. Back into covenant with God. This pattern repeats itself over and over and over again through the book of Judges. Judge after judge. Othniel, Ehud, Shamgar, Deborah, Barak, Jael. Then, finally, Samuel. 

Which is where we begin today.

As our lesson opens in 1st Samuel, chapter 3, Samuel is a young child, serving the priest, Eli, in the tabernacle at Shiloh, the tabernacle that had been established at Shiloh by Joshua. During the period of the judges, Shiloh has become the center of religious life for Israel. 

The tabernacle housed the Ark of the Covenant. The Ark was essentially a chest that contained various things. The tablets of the Law and the staff of Aaron, brother of Moses, among other things. It was kind of like a portable power center for Israel. It signified God’s presence, even an intensification of God’s presence for Israel. It was the most treasured object that Israel had--a sign of the presence of God.

It was here, at the tabernacle, that Eli was the priest. His two sons were also ordained, as well. In the earlier chapters of 1st Samuel, we have learned that Eli’s sons have not been faithful. They’re kind of stereotypical PK’s--pastor’s kids. In fact, Eli’s two sons have become corrupt. They are stealing from the offering plate. As called and ordained priests, they are sinning directly against God, by stealing from the treasury. The opening verse of our lesson today reads that the Lord’s word was rare at that time and visions weren’t widely known. One can only wonder whether it was the conduct of the clergy that was obscuring the ability of God’s own people to hear or to experience the living Word of God. That the institution was getting in the way of hearing God.

And, so, God plans to do a new thing.

This new thing is Samuel. It is into the midst of this corrupt institution that Samuel enters in. Samuel, a young child, given up in service to God by Hannah, his mother. This child, Hannah’s first fruit offering back to the Lord, serves Eli, the temple priest.

In the early verses of our story, Samel is obediently resting beside the Ark. As he sleeps, he hears his name called. “Samuel! Samuel!” 

“Here I am!” Samuel replies. Heneni, in Hebrew. We’re heard this response before haven’t we? Abraham. Jacob. All of them responding to God’s call with the words, “Here I am.” Heneni.

But, Samuel is young. He has never before experienced the word of the Lord. He thinks that it is Eli who is calling him. And, at this point, Eli, himself, doesn’t even recognize that it is God who is calling Samuel--Eli, so disconnected from God, fails to realize at first that it is God who is calling Samuel. 

This happens two more times. Finally, the third time, it dawns on Eli who is calling Samuel. And, so, Eli instructs Samuel how to respond. 

So, the fourth time, when God calls Samuel, he knows how to respond and he does. God, then, speaks to Samuel and calls him to become truth-teller to Eli. To confront Eli with the truth of the patterns that are abusive within his own family and all those whom they touch.

You see, God is not content to let things be. God is unwilling to allow patterns of corruption and abuse to remain concealed and to be perpetuated from generation to generation. This is one of God’s primary purposes for enlisting Samuel as judge and prophet. To be truth-teller. 

It is also God’s purpose for Samuel to lead God’s people through the coming crisis, the coming threat of the neighboring Philistines--a military crisis through which the priestly house of Eli will be punished and the Ark of the Covenant eventually lost. 

Samuel will be the last of the judges. He will guide Israel through crisis, will bring them back to repentance, and will bring about, through God’s power, their deliverance and the return of the Ark of the Covenant.

God calls Samuel. And God equips Samuel to do God’s work. 

In the same way God calls each of us. And God equips each of us to do God’s work. Each of us has a calling. In fact, each of us has multiple callings, multiple vocations. Vocations that are both paid and unpaid. Worker. Neighbor. Sibling. Child. Parent. Grandparent. 

Luther wrote extensively on the topic of vocation. It is at the heart of our Lutheran tradition. About how each of us has been freed from the guilt and shame of our own brokenness through the saving power of Christ on the cross. And about how, then, each of us is freed to live into our baptisms and to live out our baptismal callings, in our personal lives and in the life of our community, here and out there.

How are we living into our callings? How are we living more fully into who God intends us to be so that, as we are blessed, we might be a blessing to others?

On this day when we are, in particular, lifting up the calling--the vocation--of farmers, I’m reminded of my own father, who was a farmer. A rancher-farmer. On our ranch in north central South Dakota, we raised sheep and cattle. We averaged 1,000 head of sheep and 400 head of cattle. We raised 1,200 acres of alfalfa as feed. 

Now, my father could have been content to live comfortably on the income provided from our ranch. Yet, he understood that it wasn’t simply about his comfort. He understood that through his vocation as farmer he was to serve God and to bless others with the blessings God had bestowed on him. 

It was not unusual for my father to be daily helping out our neighbors. To give the elderly couple living north of us several orphaned lambs that they could raise and sell to supplement their fixed income. Or to help out a neighboring farmer in a harvest. Or, even, to give rides in the middle of the night to the Native Americans who were walking the 60 miles between reservations and, who often stopped at our farm along the way, to ask if they might sleep overnight in our barn.

My father was not a perfect person. He sometimes had a temper that could get out of control. On occasion, he could get himself into trouble, particularly with my mother. But, I think he understood that, in his vocation as farmer, he was called upon to share the blessings God had given him. To live out the forgiveness and grace he had received as a gift from God through Christ in his own life by serving others.

Do you hear God calling you? Do you hear God calling you to be the blessing God has called you to be? In whatever vocations you have? To live more fully into your baptismal covenant as a child of God? Are you listening?

And, then, are you responding? And, how are you responding? As farmer? As son? As daughter? As grandparent? As parent? Perhaps it is as simple as sitting down with your child or your grandchild and simply listening to them for fifteen minutes. Listening, without telling them what they have done wrong or what they should or shouldn’t do. Just being present with them, hearing them. And being the blessing for them that God intends us to be. 

How will you live out your call today? And tomorrow? And into the future? God has called and equipped each of us. May we be as faithful with our call as young Samuel. May we be a blessing to others as richly as God has blessed us. Amen.

Preached October 14, 2017 at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
19th Sunday after Pentecost
Readings: 1 Samuel 3:1-21, John 20:21-23.

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.