Unmarked Graves

Deuteronomy 34: 1-12, OT pages 191-192 Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho, and the Lord showed him the whole land: Gilead as far as Dan, all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah, as far as the Western Sea, the Negeb, and the Plain – that is, the valley of Jericho, the city of palm trees – as far as Zoar. The Lord said to him, “This is the land of which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, saying, ‘I will give it to your descendants’; I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not cross over there.” Then Moses, the servant of the Lord, died there in the land of Moab, at the Lord’s command. He was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Bethpeor, but no one knows his burial place to this day. Moses was one hundred twenty years old when he died; his sight was unimpaired and his vigor had not abated. The Israelites wept for Moses in the plains of Moab thirty days; then the period of mourning for Moses was ended. Joshua son of Nun was full of the spirit of wisdom, because Moses had laid his hands on him; and the Israelites obeyed him, doing as the Lord had commanded Moses. Never since has there arisen a prophet in Israel like Moses, whom the Lord knew face to face. He was unequaled for all the signs and wonders that the Lord sent him to perform in the land of Egypt, against Pharaoh and all his servants and his entire land, and for all the mighty deeds and all the terrifying displays of power that Moses performed in the sight of all Israel. Sermon The little choir who sang last Sunday, they were rehearsing on Wednesday night, getting ready to sing in front of all of you, and their director, Ms. Marcy, asked if they’d like to wear the nice white robes like the big choir wears. “Yes, Ms. Marcy,” they said. “And can we decorate them?” Molly Potts asked. Now that’s a good question, and it’s fun to imagine what those robes would look like if we let those 5, 6, and 7 year olds decorate those white robes – there’s a part of me that would like to see them covered with Hello Kitty stickers and puff paint ballet slippers – and there’s a part of me that would like to see the adult choir singing in robes decorated with Hello Kitty stickers and puff paint ballet slippers even more. They might look less like a church choir however, and this is one of those difficult things about a church. This is your church, those kids sing in their choir, and it’s your right to act like that’s your pew that you’re sitting in, but you can’t go decorating the choir robes, even in a world where everyone wants to leave their mark, even if it’s only on a bathroom stall – “Joe was here”. On the other hand, Moses “was buried in a valley in the land of Moab, opposite Bethpeor, but no one knows his burial place to this day”. In a way that seems like a tragedy. Everyone deserves a marker and an unmarked grave is one of those terribly sad things. I grew up close to the Kennesaw Mountain Battlefield, the site of a great battle of the Civil War, and my friends and I would walk the trails to the grave of the Unknown Soldier. In those days we didn’t worry about his mother who didn’t know where to lay flowers, who spent her days wondering where they had laid his body to rest, we just scared each other imagining his ghost that surely still haunted those fields wanting someone to know his name, but no one knows who it is that is buried there to this day. We all want to be known and remembered. We don’t want to have to introduce ourselves again and again, and so we look for some organization, a group of people, a church even, some place where people are anxious to get to know us, where people care enough to ask us who we are and where we’re from, and who don’t get too upset if we sit in their pew, but being a part of a group can be a difficult thing – so many pastors end up making that uncomfortable phone call: “We sure have missed you,” which is followed by, “Well, I didn’t think anyone had noticed that I wasn’t there.” How awful it is – awful as an unmarked grave is awful, because everyone has a name and a story but not everyone is given the change to tell it and it was almost that way with Moses. Moses felt fine simply shepherding his flock out there in the land beyond the wilderness. He ran from Egypt after growing up in the palace of Pharaoh and he established himself, made a home for himself, started a family and everything was just fine, he had all that he though he needed as many do. In those days after leaving Egypt I’m sure he was like many of us. He wanted life to be simple. No more dressing up to impress people as they had to do among the high ranking officials. No more rushing from one meeting to another. Here he was out in this land beyond the wilderness where no one could touch him and he could focus on other things like watching football. Spend the little time that you have where you’re not at work or at school or at soccer practice doing what you want to do, but the Lord called Moses out of a burning bush. “Moses, Moses,” the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt…The cry of the Israelites has now come to me…So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” Many years before they laid his body to rest, the Lord called him to use his voice, and the Lord’s call to Moses might not be so different from the Lord’s call to you. “No one knows his burial place to this day,” but we still know Moses, because even though he didn’t want to use his voice, even though he would have been just fine not being noticed, even though he was perfectly happy with how things were out there by himself in the land beyond the wilderness, we still know Moses because even though he didn’t want to use his voice he did and so must you. The world is happy for you to stay at home, but the Lord calls you back to his people. Now that can be hard for many reasons. It’s the case in every group from the perspective of the new person that everyone already knows each other. Often groups seem already established, so the temptation is to stand back rather than to step forward, but you have to try. It wasn’t any different with Moses. He didn’t’ want to speak and he was right to be afraid because as soon as he started talking people started getting upset. The Lord told him to go back to Egypt and even though he didn’t want to he did, and as soon he opened his mouth his worst fears were realized. They didn’t like what he had to say, and soon enough Moses turned to the Lord and said, “O Lord, why did you ever send me.” And it didn’t get any better. As soon as they really got on their way, free from Pharaoh’s oppression, across the sea and headed towards the Promised Land, that’s when Moses really began to wonder, “O Lord, why did you ever send me?” because they got mad at him and he got mad right back at them. He wanted to leave them to fend for themselves and they would have been glad for him to do just that. It’s not any different from the church. You finally step out and get to know some people which takes courage, then after getting to know some people maybe you start to express some opinions and you suggest that the choir decorate their robes with Hello Kitty stickers. It’s a challenging thing, a congregation. It takes commitment for it to work. There’s a Lutheran pastor named Nadia Boltz-Weber who knows that well enough. Her church is growing by leaps and bounds, but every time someone new joins that church she warns them saying, “Now sooner or later you’re going to be disappointed by me or by this church, and the temptation for you will be to walk away, but don’t you do it, because if you’ll do you may miss the chance to see God at work for where the church falters, Christ steps in.” It wasn’t Moses who kept the Israelites going, and it’s not any one of us who keeps this church going either, but could any of us keep going without this church? The last Sunday of each month I’ve been driving to Central Presbyterian Church in Culleoka to preach just after the early service. I rush over and then rush back, and last month I was in such a hurry to get back here for the late service that I backed right into a tree. This is something that I’m proud to do. The church is small, about a dozen people are there, and this morning the piano player didn’t show up and they asked me if I knew how to play, but I’m proud to go there because the world would be glad for them to just stay home, but when we are isolated we are afraid. That’s why the Lord calls us together, even though it takes work. An incredible thing about Moses is that he dies, right here at the edge of the Promised Land, only getting to see with his eyes what the Lord promised to his people. But he did not die unhappy nor did he die unremembered even though no one knows his burial place to this day, for no one who lives their life committing themselves to a people, no matter how imperfect, no one who lives committing their life to God, labors in vain. No, he didn’t set his foot in the land flowing with milk and honey, and I haven’t either, but the more I commit my life to the Lord the more of it I see. I caught a glimpse of it just yesterday morning as a matter of fact. After a long drive that had so many twists and turns it felt like we were wandering through the wilderness on our way to the Promised Land, with a few members of our youth group we woke up in Harlan, Kentucky where it is already cold in the morning. We got to the armory early, a line of people had already formed at the door though it was still dark, and we put out the hats stitched by the fingers of this congregation, and there they sat in a big pile among so many clothes, blankets, shoes, and school supplies. Before the doors opened I knew just where they were, they were so colorful they stood out in the grayness of that big room, they were as plain to see as a choir robe decorated by Molly Potts, but within an hour there was no sign of them, and to this day I can’t tell you exactly where they went, but I saw them go. They left that table where they were so easily accounted for, but as young mothers placed them on the heads of their small children, soon enough for me they were only a memory. Soon enough, Moses’ burial place was only a memory too. “No one knows his burial place to this day.” but today we all remember Moses, because Moses risked his voice and gave himself over to a people, and while that people frustrated him, while that people even broke his heart, he committed himself and led them towards the Promise Land. For his time, he led his people forward, and for this time, you are called to move this church towards the goal. I’m calling you to use your voice, to use your gifts, to take that pledge card and fill it out so that together we might continue the journey that the Lord has set us to. Certainly the easier thing, the safer thing, is to hold back. Sometimes we are even tempted to walk away, but as Moses looked over into the Promised Land and breathed his last breath he knew that his life had counted for something. His name is not etched on a rock somewhere, but is his name not etched on the heart of his people? Commit yourself to this church, and may our names be etched on each other’s hearts. Commit yourself to this church, and together let us walk to the Promised Land. Amen.