Who Am I That I Should Go?

Scripture Lessons: Romans 12: 9-21 and Exodus 3: 1-15 Sermon Title: Who Am I That I Should Go? Preached on August 30, 2020 Lately I’ve really been wanting to take a trip to the beach, so I can dig a hole in the sand and stick my head in it. Not for long. Just for a couple hours. Maybe one afternoon with my head in the sand, because I’m ready for a break from all of it. Now, on top of a viral pandemic, for some people there’s a hurricane. On top of having kids home from school, last Monday morning there was a big Zoom outage. Not only are we stuck at home, but it rained all day Tuesday, so we were even more confined to the house than usual. Our hospital is still full, and according to the Marietta Daily Journal, in desperation some COVID-19 sufferers are resorting to drinking bleach. Plus, this past week another black man was shot by police officers. Only, our national conversation concerning race doesn’t seem to be going anywhere because we can’t agree on enough to form anything more than an argument, so I’d really just like to go stick my head in the sand at the beach. I’d like to escape everything for just a minute. Concerning the headlines of the past week, certainly I’m thankful that our own Keli Gambrill, county commissioner, came up with a plan to distribute $4.8 million dollars in grants to struggling homeowners, but before I get too hopeful about such a loving response and such courageous leadership in a leadership vacuum, first I’d just like a little bit of time to put my head in the sand. Do you know what I mean? Moses did. Moses must have known exactly what I’m feeling, which might be how you’re feeling right now. He found himself in a complex situation he didn’t know how to deal with and so he just ran off to watch a flock of sheep for a while. The Bible says: “Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; [and] he led his flock beyond the wilderness.” What that means is that he had made it to the beach, but not just to the beach, beyond the beach. It means he didn’t just go on a vacation but built for himself a great big hole in the sand that he could live down in forever. It’s not a bad idea. He left, and that worked just fine for Moses until one of his sheep ran off and he stumbled upon a bush that burned a bright flame without being consumed. Can you imagine it? Curiosity can be dangerous this way: it might lead you out of your hole in the sand and to a place where you could get hurt. That’s why you have to be careful about curiosity. Once my mother and father-in-law brought a new puppy home and she was curious, poking her nose around rocks and into holes on the ground. Before long a snake bit her right on the nose. Along those same lines I remember a drive through Whitlock Heights. Several cars were stopped, and a group of people were standing around looking at something in the middle of the street. Naturally I got out of my car to see what all the excitement was about and next thing I knew, I was elected to try and remove an alligator snapping turtle from the middle of the road. It came out of the creek nearby the street where the Callaway’s and the Tuckers live. I hope they lock their doors at night, because that thing was a monster. But back to the point, curiosity is a dangerous thing. You go looking around corners, get out of your car to see what everyone else is so interested in, or just go sniffing around some new place and anything can happen. The same kind of thing can happen at a church. A curious person sticks her nose in the door of a church and who know what might happen next. This is a true story. The Rev. Sarah Hayden, a seminary classmate of mine, once told the story of how her family came to join their first Presbyterian Church. A new church building had been under construction near their neighborhood and when the construction was finished and the opening worship service was scheduled, her father suggested that they go and check it out. The family walked in and approached a man holding a stack of bulletins by the door into the sanctuary, but instead of handing each member of the family a bulletin, this man handed Sarah’s father the whole stack saying, “You must be the one who supposed to hand out the bulletins.” “Actually, no I’m not,” her father said, “We’ve never been here before and we just wanted to check it out.” “Well,” the man said, “you hand out the bulletins.” That was years ago. Sarah’s now a Presbyterian minister and I think her family is still a member of that very church, and that’s how curiosity is. You see something interesting and decide to see what it’s all about and next thing you know your life goes in a direction you never could have expected. Maybe you find your way home. That’s how it was for Moses. He was as far away from Pharaoh as he could get. Not just in the wilderness, but beyond the wilderness. He wanted not to think about the Israelite family of his birth nor the family who adopted him. He couldn’t stand the thought of that day when his worlds collided: his Hebrew birth family and his Egyptian adopted family. He wanted to escape the day when he lost his temper and killed the Egyptian who was beating a Hebrew slave. He tried to leave all that behind just as he left behind the body of that Egyptian taskmaster, hiding his corpse in the sand. There he was. He was beyond the wilderness trying to forget or escape, but curiosity brought him right back to the place he didn’t want to remember. At the sight of the burning bush Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up,” but this curiosity like all curiosity has the potential to be, led Moses into the presence of God. Once we find ourselves in the presence of God it’s best to be prepared for life to move in directions we never could have expected. That how it was with me. We just went to this church when I was kid. It was nice. On the way here on Sunday mornings I’d read the funny paper in the back seat of our minivan. When we got here, I’d sometimes have donuts and would sing in Sunday School. In the service we’d stand up and turn to the right hymns in the hymnals. I’d bow my head and close my eyes when I was supposed to, and I knew the service was almost over when Dr. Jim Speed stood in front of us with his arms up saying the words of our 1st Scripture Lesson as his benediction. “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good,” he’d say, and he’d say it as though we were actually supposed to do it. Go poking your nose in a hole and you might get bit by a snake. Walk over to a group of people looking at something in the street and end up responsible for a snapping turtle. Get out of bed, turn on your computer, and join a church service. After being a part of this virtual service it’s possible to to on with your day no different from how you were when you woke up this morning, but if you’re open to hearing God’s voice you better be careful or you’ll wind up going places and saying things that will dredge up the past and re-chart your future. That’s how it was with me and that’s how it was with Moses. Moses just wanted a closer look, and next thing he knew the God of his ancestors was telling him, “The cry of the Israelites has 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.” The Lord had heard their cry, and I am confident that the Lord hears the cry of the oppressed today. The Lord hears the unspoken worries of mothers who are depending on free food distributions so they can save their money and stave off eviction. The Lord listens to the prayers of the sick who long for a vaccine and turns toward the school child who wants to go back to class, but never will, unless the grownups get their act together and stop spreading the virus all over the place. He bears the quite weeping of the ones who mourn but can’t have a funeral and knows the frustration of those who want a world without racism but lack a clear path to move toward it as well as the would-be voter who isn’t sure whether or not her vote will even be counted. We all want to know when someone is going to do something about all of it. When it’s going to get better and where is the one who is going to get us out of this? In a time like this one it’s easy to wonder where God is or if God knows. Where has God been? I think I know. God’s been calling, waiting on you and me to get our head out of the sand to answer. We are all living in this terrifying time, but we don’t need to hide from it. Even if it’s just to have a conversation we’ve been putting off, we must be bold to believe that God will go with us to do the impossible. Last Sunday I was invited to join with the members of our church who make up our northern campus. The Big Canoe Neighborhood Group have started calling themselves FPC North. They invited me up for a cocktail in the driveway and there we were talking about how hard it is to simply have a conversation. One member of the group has adopted a great phrase for use in these divisive times, “Well, I couldn’t disagree more, but we can still be friends.” How hard it is to make such bold statements. How much easier it is to stick our heads in the sand, but my friends, the Lord is doing a new thing, and if we are to be a part of us we must find a way not to run away from the uncomfortable conversations nor keep our true opinions to ourselves. Be curious enough to ask yourself: What might God do through us if we’re brave enough to answer the call? What might God do through us if we’re bold enough to stand and say what we believe? What might God do through us if we’re just curious enough to follow where He leads? Amen.