Sunday, March 23, 2025

Sermon from St. Andrew’s Scotia, 3/23/25 Exodus 3:1-15

 

          Recently the kids and I got our dog a puzzle. We have a four-year-old miniature schnauzer named Jarvis and we think he is smart, so we thought he might like a challenge. The puzzle consists of 4 plastic boxes that open in various ways. The first step is to put a small treat in each box while they are fully open so the dog knows that treats are in there. And slowly and gradually you begin partially closing some of the boxes with treats in them and letting the dog figure out how to get to the treat. So after some time of the boxes fully opened, me and the kids sat down around the puzzle, we put the treats in and we partially closed two of the boxes. Jarvis’s immediate reaction was to stare at the boxes and bark. Occasionally he would kind of kick back his feet and look at us and then bark. I knew what this meant from our puppy training classes … he was frustrated. And it is so hard to not just open the box and give the poor little fluffy guy a treat when he is so clearly distressed. But I also know from puppy training classes, that if I don’t give in, he will figure it out soon after the barking. He will eventually believe he can do it and try.

But it’s hard to wait through the frustration. Partly because he is cute and we love him and partly because we have empathy and we all know what frustration feels like and it does not feel good. Life is full of so many frustrations. Sometimes it is obstacles that interfere with our plans like illness, flat tires or canceled plans. Sometimes it is an inability to understand like hard math problems at school, crises at work or why people think and act the way they do. And sometimes it’s general frustration with life and God- you hear frustration behind questions like why do bad things happen to good people, how could God let this happen and why did this horrible thing have to happen.

It is a feeling common to all of humanity and across time, it can be heard throughout the pages of the Bible. Think of how Jonah felt when he was sent by God to Ninevah, the place of his brutal and destructive enemies, God sent him to proclaim their demise. Jonah begrudgingly does it only to find out that God changed God’s mind. And Jonah is frustrated. Or Job, he did everything he thought was righteous and just and yet catastrophe and suffering pours down on him. Prophet after prophet follows God’s will and does what is right only to be ignored, rejected and sometimes killed. The Old Testament story today is the beginning of the story of Moses freeing the Israelites from Egyptian captivity and on the journey that follows there is a lot of frustration, to the point where many wish they had never followed Moses out of Egypt in the first place.

 And all the while the people do a lot of frustrating things. In today’s reading God calls Moses directly and tells him exactly what to do from a burning bush and still Moses doubts he can do. And on the journey that follows God continually acts on behalf of the Israelites, providing for their needs, rescuing them and giving them guidance and yet they doubt, disobey and outright reject God over and over again. It’s kind of a frustrating story.

 And yet, God sticks with it. God does not give up or abandon, but stays in the relationship. With Moses, God does not give in to the doubt or frustration, knowing that with God, Moses will do what he is called to do. God endures our frustrated barks, cries and doubts, staying by our side, staying with us as we get to the other side of it.

I wonder if Moses felt frustrated when he asked God for a name? Moses says, “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?” and God answers “I AM WHO I AM.” A little vague I would say, and not at all like the tribal gods of that time who had very specific names.

In this passage, God gives three ways of saying God’s name. the first is “I AM WHO I AM” and then right after that God shortens it to simply “I Am.” And then right after that God says, “This 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.” So, Lord is the third way. In the New Oxford Commentary notes on this it says, “The third name is LORD. In Hebrew the name has four letters, “yhwh” (perhaps pronounced Yahweh), and is thus known as the Tetragrammaton. Like the first two versions of God’s name, it is from a root meaning “to be.” God’s name thus has a verbal rather than a noun form …”[1] So, in other words, the three ways God says God’s name to Moses are all verbs rather than nouns. Nouns would have been typical names for gods at that time, just as we typically use nouns as our names these days.

 I remember a long time ago I read that in Eastern cultures they are more likely to teach children language by using verbs as opposed to in our Western culture where we teach children language by starting with nouns like “mom” “dad” “ball” “milk.” So it’s a different way of thinking for us, God identified not as a noun but rather as a verb.

          And then right after this, God tells Moses to gather all the elders of Israel and tell them what God has done and what will happen next. And after that God tells Moses to go to the King of Egypt and when the King of Egypt does not listen, God tells Moses the plan for what will happen after that. God has plans and is taking action.

          The message is clear, God is not a statue that will be put in one place and stared at admiringly. God is a presence; God is an active part of this relationship with humans. God is moving and doing and being.

     As a hospital chaplain, I have found that when I ask someone if they believe in God, it may bring a short answer or explanation, maybe an uncomfortable confession about no longer going to church or a defensive reaction against religion or even a shrug, but when I ask “how have you experienced God’s presence in your life?” It usually brings a beautiful conversation filled with powerful stories, moving experiences and personally sacred moments shared with emotion. Of course creeds, beliefs and artistic depictions are meaningful, beautiful and enduring, but God as presence is felt, experienced and witnessed. God as I am. God as being.

          You can hear this same form of experiential testimony in the Psalm we read today, especially the last two lines, “For you have been my helper,

and under the shadow of your wings I will rejoice. My soul clings to you;

your right hand holds me fast.” It is an experience of God as being, a very real and near presence.

          I think there is something really powerful that happens when we can accept God as “I am who I am”. When we can pause from trying to solve, explain, identify and label. When we can accept God is who God is and rest in God’s presence. When our soul can cling to God and we can rest under the shadow of God’s wings.

          It takes trust to follow a God who goes by “I am who I am.” The call to discipleship is an invitation into a journey, that we may not always understand and we may not always predict. It requires acceptance and trust.

          And sometimes the not knowing and the not understanding can be frustrating. I feel frustrated when I see things happening in the world that are unjust. I am frustrated when I see people being treated without dignity. I am frustrated when people are hurting or suffering and there is no solution. I am frustrated when I see bad things happening that I cannot control. And I am frustrated by normal life things. Like when our ceiling leaks every time we get a heavy rain even after we have the roof patched. Or when the kids keep leaving their shoes in the hallway. Or when a computer doesn’t work or traffic is slow or the things I can’t control just keep stacking up. I feel like my poor little dog barking with frustration and bewilderment as he smells a treat he can’t figure out how to get. He’s probably thinking, why are they making this hard, just give me the treat!? And I get it because sometimes it feels like, why is life so hard, why can’t we just know why things are the way they are, what will happen next and how to fix everything. Why can’t God do what we want God to do, why can’t we figure out the why’s and the how’s?

          And to this God says, “I am who I am.” And that can be incredibly freeing. We can give it up. We don’t have to understand it all or solve it all or carry the weight of the world on our shoulder. God is who God is and there is nothing we can do about that but trust. Not a helpless kind of giving up that leaves us sitting around with nothing to do- but rather, a kind of acceptance that opens our hearts to hearing and seeing and feeling God’s presence in the world. A kind of acceptance that releases us to see the beauty of God’s presence in our lives and the lives of others. The kind of acceptance that brings us to our knees in worship as we recognize that we are not God and we don’t have to pretend to be because our God is present and active and real.

 

          I hope that as we journey toward the cross this Lent, it can be a time of release. Release from the things that block our vision of who God is around us. Release from the frustrations that keep us pretending we can control things we can’t. Release from an inability to see the very real presence of God in others, especially in those we may not expect. And trust, knowing that God is who God is and that is something our souls can cling to.

         



[1] The New Oxford Annotated Bible. 2010 Oxford University Press, 2010, pp 86-86.


1 comment:

  1. Wonderful sermon. Thanks so much. Poor Jarvis! Did he get his treats?😊

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