We Are Not Alone, Sermon from August 27, 2023, Proper 16A, Pentecost 13

Sermon, Preached on August 27th, 2023, Proper 16A, 13 Pentecost

As we went on our trip out west, to drop Eliot off, I was definitely trying to look at my relationship with him from a 10,000 foot level. I intended to kind of reflect on the last 19 years, and understand how cancer, divorce, switching schools, step parents and all the challenges he faced formed him into the person he is today. But I never reached 10,000 feet. I don’t think I even reached 5,000 feet.

Stopping in the Badlands, he took off and started climbing around and taking selfies and panoramic pictures and just being generally overwhelmed by the beauty of that place. Erin and I and our arthritic knees and old bodies could barely handle the trails off the beaten path much less climbing the same dunes he was. Looking much past 10 feet in front of me was nearly impossible.

And so it went all week, given sight to see, or form to fill out, we were kept right in the present, trying to navigate this new college experience and a place that was quite unfamiliar. It wasn’t until Saturday night, when we dropped Eliot off that the ties to all those things keeping us focused on the here and now were released and the tears started flowing.

I am trying my hardest to burn the last image of him, standing in front of his dorm, arm raised in goodbye, tears streaming down his cheeks, so I can remember this last moment of childhood. Because I know when I see him next, I will see him as an adult, as a man, as an individual ready to take on the world. I mean, we’ve already dismantled his room to prepare it for the next iteration of use.

As we pulled away, Erin started sobbing, I started getting the feels, and Erin asked me, aren’t you sad? And I said, yes, but I am much more proud of him than sad, I am so happy and excited for him. I am excited to see how he will fulfill the legacy of the midwives in today’s Exodus reading, how he will stand up to power. I am excited to see how he will create his own understanding of who Jesus is and prepare himself for the same questions that will be posed to him. I am excited to see his understanding of being human develop over the coming years.

There is a story you all have probably heard before, but I wanted to share again, because it gets at the core of our Scripture readings today. It illustrates this experience with Eliot and the need as humans to be radically present to one another in ways that keep us tied to the here and now, rather than the past or the cloudy future.

“A little girl was late getting home from school. Her mother became more and more worried as the afternoon wore on. When she finally arrived, the mother said, “Where have you been?! I’ve been worried sick!” The little girl responded, “Well, I was almost home, but then I saw Suzie sitting on the curb crying. Her doll was broken.” Her mother, relieved, said, “Oh, So you stopped to help her fix her doll?” The little girl with the wisdom of the universe said, “No mom, I sat down on the curb, and I helped Suzie cry.”

Fear, anxiety, these are feelings that often lead us down a path of distancing ourselves from people that make us feel uncomfortable. The midwives in today's Exodus story must have felt fear and trembling in a way that we have never felt. Can you imagine being called before a king and told to kill all the baby boys that were born under your watch?

Now, we don’t know the exact story, maybe these midwives were being sly and cunning when they came and told the story of the stoic, vibrant and prolific Hebrew women giving birth so quickly they didn't have a chance to access the baby boys. Maybe these midwives in fear never even went to the women who were bearing children. Maybe the midwives conspired with the Hebrew families to concoct this story that they shared with the King. We will never know.

But what we do know is that a powerful King who would have killed someone who looked at him wrong, was telling them to do something and they defiantly refused. This is a sort of David and Goliath story, the little guy facing down the big guy and winning. At least in this moment, who knows what the other midwives actually did in response to the King’s command. These midwives chose God over the new Egyptian King.

In choosing God over the Egyptian King, the story of Moses is given a chance to capture our imagination. Moses is sent down the river by a woman we know nothing about and is rescued by an unnamed daughter of Pharaoh. This action of the daughter of Pharaoh creates a fascinating duality that we watch unfold over years as Moses grows up. Moses, as I assume we will see and hear about in the coming weeks, struggles mightily with the question “Who am I?”

This journey of discovery is never concluded, at least not until our last breath leaves our body. We are always searching for meaning, searching for hope and searching for understanding. The entire Book of Exodus is about Israel’s relationship with and discovery of God. It is our own story as well and one of the fascinating parts we will see is that salvation, understanding and meaning are never found in the seat of power. Hope, redemption and justice are always found on the edges, on the margins, in the unexpected places we never thought we could find meaning.

The word Hebrew in this Exodus reading explicitly implies the Jewish people were the ones causing the new King worry. However, the word itself has an implicit meaning, it is translated as Hebrews, or the Jewish people, but in the word used to describe the people causing trouble it means those on the outside, those on the margins, those on the fringes. God’s work is found in those places, not the comfortable, powerful center.

Moses' struggle to understand who he is comes to a head when he kills an Egyptian who is beating a Hebrew to death. In that moment of violence, his struggle with becoming a prophet of God and how he leads the Hebrew people begins. We may not have that kind of experience, but ours is just as full of struggle and challenge. And here’s the thing we have to always remember. We are not alone.

Moses had Aaron, Jesus had the Disciples, Paul had many friends and companions. Not a single one of our heroes from the Bible stood alone and neither should we. We are not called to fix things, or make things better, we are called to come down to earth, away from that 10,000 foot level to be nose to nose with people we know and people we don’t know and help each other cry, help each other laugh, help each other hope.