God's Promises Bring Hope: Hope in Ten Words

Then Moses went up to God; the Lord called to him from the mountain, saying, “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.”

So Moses came, summoned the elders of the people, and set before them all these words that the Lord had commanded him.

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; you shall have no other gods before me.

You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I the Lord your God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the third and the fourth generation of those who reject me, but showing steadfast love to the thousandth generation of those who love me and keep my commandments.

You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses his name.

Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns. For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.

Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.

You shall not murder.

You shall not commit adultery.

You shall not steal.

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor. Ex. 19:3-7, 20:1-17 (NRSV)


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

Last week, we heard how God saved Israel at the Sea of Reeds. To catch us up to our story today, we’re going to watch this closing scene from the Disney movie, “The Prince of Egypt,” which begins at the edge of the sea. 

“Look!” Miriam says to Moses after God has saved them from Pharaoh and his army of chariots. “Look at your people, Moses! They are free!” she says. God has freed them from the hand of their oppressor. From Pharaoh, their oppressor. God is their Liberator.

The movie ends in the wilderness at Mt. Sinai, which also known as Mt. Horeb in Scripture. It is here where our story picks up today. Yet, we know there were many other scenes in between. Israel traveled from the shore of the sea through the wilderness. It was in the wilderness where they began to be afraid--fearing the future. Not knowing the future, they began to lose trust in God and to complain. About the lack of food. About the lack of water. As in our story last week, they even cried once again to go back to Egypt. To slavery. To return to live under their oppressor. In each scene, God hears their cries. And God answers them.

Finally, they reach their destination. Now, we know that Canaan--the Promised Land--is their final goal. But, in looking back, it is the story here at Mt. Sinai that is the climax of the Exodus story. It is here where everything happens. Where God’s first promise to Moses at the burning bush is fulfilled. Where the first request of Moses to let Israel go into the desert and worship comes true. And where God’s promise to form and shape Israel into a chosen people, or as in today’s lesson, to be God’s most precious possession--a kingdom of priests, a holy nation--is begins to be fulfilled. It is here at Mt. Sinai, where this forming and shaping begins. With the giving of the Ten Commandments. Or the Ten Words, which is what they were called in ancient times.

So, why would God give Israel these Ten Words? (I just gave you one hint!) There are a couple of reasons.

This summer, when we spent four weeks studying these commandments, we noticed that there are a variety of ways that they are numbered. There are also differences with the first commandment. In our Lutheran tradition, as with most other Protestant traditions, we begin with “You shall have no other gods.” But, in the Jewish tradition, the first commandment is “I am the Lord your God” - the same words we read earlier - “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of slavery.” 

For Israel, this first commandment is a reminder to them of who God is. And, in particular, it is intended to create a contrast between God and Pharaoh. Liberator vs. Oppressor. “I am the Lord your liberating God, who heard your cries--the cries of an oppressed people--and freed you from Pharaoh, your oppressor.”  Embedded in this first commandment is this memory of who God is. Israel’s Liberator.

The second purpose, which I hinted at before, is also connected to memory. To the memory of who they were in Egypt. Enslaved. Beaten down. Pharaoh’s oppressed people. With no identity apart from their captivity. God’s purpose in giving Israel these Ten Words, or these rules, or these boundaries is to begin to form and to shape them into a new people. A kingdom of priests. A holy nation. God’s most precious possession. This was to be their new identity. The Ten Words were that vision of who they were to become. A people in loving relationship with God. And a people in loving relationship with one another. The Ten Words were God’s covenant with Israel and a promise of what God’s kingdom would be. If Israel kept them.

We know that Israel didn’t. When Moses came down off the mountain, he saw the people worshipping the Golden Calf. He saw that they had quickly forgotten who God was. And this is the ongoing story of God’s relationship with Israel throughout the Hebrew scriptures. A story of God, Israel’s Liberator, seeking to bring Israel back into relationship over and over and over again.

What does this story mean for us? As New Testament people for whom the Law has already been fulfilled in Christ Jesus, what does this important story in Israel’s history have to do with us?

We are living in the midst of turbulent times. These past few weeks have been one more example of this. The institutions we have placed our faith in over centuries seem to be dismantling. Our government seems to be splitting in two. The rule of law seems irrelevant. Our churches are diminishing. Society seems to be crumbling. Everything that we have known - the systems and the institutions that we have built - seem to be breaking down. Dismantling. It is a frightening time. But, what if? What if God is at work in this? What if?

We like to think of ourselves as a free country. A nation where anyone might come and live freely. Much of this is true. And, yet, throughout our history, it can also be said that we have created our institutions to oppress. To do the work of oppression on our behalf. We only need to look at these photos to remind us of our history. A history of oppression. Not much different than Pharaoh in Israel’s time. Native Americans. African-Americans. Women. Japanese citizens. Gay and lesbian people. The poor. Immigrants. And more.

What if God is at work in this dismantling? What if God has heard the cries of the oppressed? What if God is saying, “No more, Pharaoh!” Let my people go! Let them go so that everyone--all humankind whom I have created in my image. Everyone. And all creation. Might. Live. Freely. Without oppression. In full relationship with me. And in full relationship with each other!”? 

Because this is what God’s kingdom looks like. A kingdom covenanted with Israel. Fulfilled in a new covenant for us in Christ. A kingdom where God is sovereign and not Pharaoh. A kingdom described by these Ten Commandments, that is envisioned by these Ten Words. A reality of shalom--of wholeness. Of whole and complete love. Love of God. Love of self. And love of others.

This is the hope these ten words gave Israel.  It’s the hope that they give us as we continue to move towards God’s promised kingdom--a kingdom of justice and peace. 

May God grant it. Amen.

Preached October 7, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Pentecost 20
Readings: Matt. 5:17; Ex. 19:3-7, 20:1-17

Called to Be

Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress 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. 

Exodus 3:1-15 (NRSV)

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

Anything, but ordinary. This has been our theme this summer as we’ve worked our way through the stories of Abraham. Of his son, Isaac. Of Isaac’s son, Jacob. Of Jacob’s son, Joseph. And last week and today, Moses. A descendant of this entire line. Saved from sure death, as we heard last week, by the midwives, Shiprah and Puah, and by the persistence of three other women--Moses’ sister, his mother, and a princess, the  very daughter of the Pharaoh who sought to kill all of the Hebrew male babies.

It is anything, but ordinary.

In the years between last week’s story and today’s story, once again, much has happened. Moses, a Hebrew by birth, taken into the Egyptian royal household, into the Pharaoh’s own family--Moses as grown up.

In the same time frame, the subjugation and slavery of Israel by Pharaoh, by the state, has continued and has likely gotten worse. One day, as Moses is out among the Hebrews--his people--he sees this. The forced labor of his kinfolk. In fact, he sees an Egyptian beating a Hebrew. One of his own people. 

Moses is grieved by it. Perhaps it was to alleviate his own guilt for escaping the painful experiences of his people. Or perhaps Moses identified with them in their oppression and sought to take action, to do the right thing. Or perhaps it was a complex mixture of motivations that are part of the human experience. Whatever the reason, Moses responds by killing the Egyptian. And by burying him in the sand so no one knows.

Except for one thing. The next day, when Moses seeks to intervene in a dispute between two Hebrews, one of them says, “Who made you a ruler and judge over us? Do you mean to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?” Moses then realizes that the murder he committed was known. And soon he is on the run from Pharaoh, who finds out about it and seeks to kill Moses.

Moses flees. Eventually he settles in Midian. He marries and has a son. As Moses is making a new life for himself as an alien in a foreign land, things continue to get worse for his people still enslaved in Egypt.

In Exodus 2, verse 23, we read that “the Israelites groaned under their slavery, and cried out.” That “out of the slavery their cry for help rose up to God.” And, in verse 24, “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.”

God heard. God remembered. God looked. God took notice.

It is hear that today’s story begins. Moses is shepherding his father-in-law’s sheep. He leads them beyond the wilderness onto a mountain. To Mt. Horeb. Also known as Mount Sinai, the place where God gave Moses the ten commandments. 

Moses is walking along the mountainside with the sheep when, out of the corner of his eye, he notices something odd. A bush burning. 

Now, normally, this wouldn’t be that odd--that there would be a fire burning in a bush. It was a semi-arid climate. That there was a brushfire wasn’t unusual. What was unusual, though, was that the bush was never consumed by the fire. It never burnt up. Moses looked and then he took notice. And, then, he went to investigate.

When God saw that Moses had turned aside to see, God calls to him. “Moses! Moses” God says. Moses responds, “Here I am!” Then, God says, “Come no closer!” God tells him this is holy ground. That Moses should take off his sandals. And, then God helps Moses remember. “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.” Immediately, Moses hides his face. Because, he remembers. He knows that this is the God of his ancestors.

I’ve always been intrigued by these few verses and, particularly, how odd it is that God tells Moses to take off his shoes. To go barefoot on this holy ground. To walk on this holy place with his ordinary, dirty, sweaty bare feet. It reminds me of when I moved back to Minnesota and how common it was for house guests, even strangers, to be told to take off their shoes when they came in out of the cold, out of the wintry, snowy mess outside. I’m sure the invitation was a way to help keep the carpet clean. That’s why it seems like such an odd request for God to make of Moses. Didn’t God want to keep this place holy? And clean?

I wonder if when God told Moses to take his sandals off, what God was really saying to Moses was be real. Be a regular person. Because as we continue to read on, this is how Moses is. Normal. Regular. Like you and me. When God lays out a plan for Moses--that God has seen God’s people and how miserable they are in Egypt. And that God has heard their cries and knows how much they are suffering and has decided to do something about it and to recruit Moses to help God do something about it. Well, Moses doesn’t act with the awe and the reverence that we would expect. In fact, Moses acts pretty normal. Pretty regular. LIke you and I probably would.

“What the heck are you talking about? I’m not ready to sign onto this plan of yours! And here’s my list of reasons!” All of a sudden, Moses’ “Here I am!” becomes his “Who am I?”  “Who am I that have the ability to do this? Who am I that I should lead Israel out of Egypt?” And then, Moses asks, “Who are you? Who are you that they will believe me and follow me?”

Perhaps the reason that God asks Moses to remove his sandals is because God wants Moses to be himself. To remove all pretense. To be vulnerable and fully open to what God has to say. And, yes, to question and challenge God. To wonder how God has chosen him. To wonder how God has chosen us.

We do that, don’t we? Like Moses, when we see that burning bush in our lives and we turn and take notice and hear God’s call for us, we wonder, don’t we? Who am I? Who are we? That God should be calling us to help. To help relieve the suffering and oppression in our world. Who are we? What abilities do we have to do what God is calling us to do? 

And, then, to say, “Are you serious, God?”

The images we saw on television this past week from the towns and cities along the Gulf Coast were devastating, weren’t they? Hundreds of thousands of homes flooded. Businesses devastated. First responders inundated with thousands of 911 calls. Tens of thousands without electricity. Chemical fires burning. And a death toll at 47 and growing. Devastating.

And, yet, people heard the call. The call to do something. To help. Ordinary people. Helping their neighbors. Bringing their small boats and rescuing others in need. Story after story after story of people helping other people. With no regard for race, for ethnicity, for immigration status, for gender, for all of those things that can be used to so easily divide people. Ordinary people doing what is anything but ordinary.

When Israel was suffering, God looked and took notice. God could have acted alone. Or God could have chosen anyone else for the job. But, God specifically selected Moses. There must have been something about Moses, with all of his flaws, with his gifts, with his unique abilities. Perhaps God wanted Moses to simply be. To be himself and nothing else. Moses. Called to be.

Each of us called to be. To be who we are and nothing else. As ordinary as that is. As unique as that is. We have been selected by God. We have been freed from shame and brokenness by Christ. 

We have been called to be. To be who we are, in our world, working together with God to free all those who suffer, to free all those who are enslaved by leaders who seek to enrich themselves or gain more power, to free all those who are oppressed by systems that continue to keep them down. You and I are called to be. 

As Moses was, as Joseph was, as Jacob was, as Isaac was, and as Abraham was, we are called to be.  Ordinary. And yet, anything, but ordinary! 

Praise be to God!

Amen.

Preached September 3, 2017, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.

13th Sunday after Pentecost

Readings: Exodus 3:1-15; Psalm 105:1-6, 23-26, 45b; Romans 12:19-21; Matthew 16:21-28.