Game of Thrones

Exodus 3:1-15

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."



Moses grew up in the Pharaoh's palace. He was one of 'them' even though born a Hebrew, not an Egyptian.
In Exodus 2, though, he sees an Egyptian beating one of the Hebrew people and Moses is so troubled that he kills the Egyptian.  After that, he has shown his true colors and the Pharaoh is out to kill him, this traitor who was raised by the Egyptians.

Moses moves to a new place and eventually marries a woman, Zipporah, and tends flocks for her father. It is here in this place in life that he receives a call from God from a burning bush.

And now, the call to obey God and take the Hebrew people out of the bondage of the Egyptians and lead them away from slavery, is upon Moses. Given his past, he is probably an emotional wreck. In a sense he has to go 'home' again and cause a lot of havoc and chaos and lead a dangerous uprising of slave labor against the master. It's risky and threatening. Why wouldn't he say he isn't qualified? Who wouldn't rather stay in the field with the flocks?

Moses faces his own Game of Thrones. He is forced to take his lineage, his Hebrew people, away from the people who raised him, the Egyptians. He is  in the middle of the 'throne' of his heritage and God calling him to become their 'leader' and the 'throne' he has already walked away from, but must return to... his Egyptian 'family' who raised him.

What do we do when faced with corruption and 'evil' in our families? In our Church? In our world and community?  When we have already walked away, do we just stay away or do we sometimes take a deep breath and throw ourselves headlong into the fire again?  The burning bush may be a metaphor here for the fire that faces us when we accept God's calling to return to our roots and weed out corruption.  The fire that hits us when we are called to lead ourselves and others into a promised land that we cannot see ahead of us just yet.

Thoughts? Email me or comment below.

Moses' Girls

Here is an excerpt from last Sunday's sermon "Moses' Girls."

One of the most miraculous things about this story of the baby Moses is honestly the fact that this story gets told with so many women players involved.  The fact that the Jewish faith has preserved this story of the beginning of life of their most revered Moses with a great emphasis on the role that women played in making sure he survived and grew into someone who could be a risk-taker himself and step outside of his own comfort zone and lead his people.  Would he have been able to take that journey if he hadn’t had this lineage of strong women jumping through all sorts of hoops to see to it that he got a chance to live and prosper?

Are we risk-takers like the midwives? Are we willing to put our own lives on the line to protect our children? Are we sacrificial protectors like the mother, willing to give up our own self- interests to seek a new way for the next generation? Are we like Miriam, active watchers and listeners, jumping in from the sidelines when necessary to offer help to all who need a boost?            Are we like the princess, safe and secure, enjoying the good things in life, and yet willing to look into the eyes of a needy and desperate foreigner, a stranger, an immigrant and see only love and humanity?   Some of you are.  Anne has done amazing missions in Peru. Karen Pearson has been a vocal advocate and mover and shaker for social change. Ginger went South and marched for civil rights. Many of you have walked the walk. Thank you.

The bible is filled with women and men they nourished who step outside of their comfort zones and let God lead their lives in amazing ways. It’s the building blocks of our faith journeys, we people of the Abrahamic traditions.  The amazing part of all these stories is the vision the people seem to have. The way they can go forward into the unknown and because of their insight, save the world.

Hannah praying for God to grant her a son, promising she will give him to God if her prayers are answered. She is blessed with Samuel and she does allow the priests in the temple to raise him. 

When a poor, young peasant girl named Mary was told in a visit from an angel that she would become pregnant and have a son she was to call Emmanuel, God with us, she had to be terrified.  Was this all a dream? Is she out of her mind? She can’t possibly imagine she will one day hold her son’s lifeless body in her hands. But, Mary would have heard THESE stories. The story of the midwives, and Miriam and her mother and the princess. She would know that women have created saviors because they first offered salvation at great risk to themselves.

And because she has heard the stories of these women in the life of Moses, because she has their example to look toward, she knows that being a faithful woman of God means making tough choices and taking big risks and surviving harsh and unexpected circumstances, and that stepping outside of yourself means saving the world. And so she says, “Let it be.” 

May we be a people who take great risks to show the love of God in the world. May we be a people who see the long-range vision of what Christ calls us to be and do. May we offer salvation that happens here and now in our individual and collective actions and yet also ripples into salvation and transformation of the world tomorrow.  

"Joseph's Band of Brothers"

Genesis 45:1-15

Joseph has a choice to make. He can still be angry with his brothers for that debacle years ago when they threw him in a pit and sold him into slavery or he can offer his brotherly love to them.  The final verse of this passage says   And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him.

They have come seeking help during a famine, not knowing that Joseph, their brother, is still alive and is the very one who can offer them help. They are sure he will turn them away, why wouldn't he? But he doesn't.. He offers them food and a place to feel at home. He kisses them and cries and welcomes them.

He understood not only the power of forgiveness, but also the power of offering the best sense of humanity to someone in their time of need. He didn't let his past make him bitter or consume him. He held it as a productive life experience, one that he fashioned into a calling from God.

And the brothers are noticeably surprised, and probably a little scared, but since their lives were spared, they are likely exceedingly grateful. And so the story has this interesting twist. All is not forgotten or resolved, but lives are saved and relationship is restored.

In the HBO mini-series Band of Brothers, the Easy Company is chronicled throughout their experiences in World War II, from their days in training all the way through the surrender in Japan.  The story is based on real interviews and true events, but is fictionalized and dramatized for the screen. This group of men who were at first strangers became like brothers because of their experiences in a time of war.  They had to watch out for each other in the worst of times. They have a bond like nothing anyone else can ever experience. Even in the darkest of times, their sense of duty to one another makes them really live into the word 'brothers.'

What does it mean to offer 'brotherly' love to those who have wronged us? What does it mean to be in connection with a world in conflict?  How do we take dark times (times of 'famine' in our lives) and make them times of blossoming growth of character for ourselves and others?

Thoughts? Email me or comment below.

"Joseph Ends Up Six Feet Under"

Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28

Joseph is the favored son. Wearing a beautifully embroidered coat as a token of his father's love.  And the brothers are jealous. The brothers mock him. The brothers decide to toss him into a pit and tell their father that he was consumed by wild animals. But then, a brother suggests that they not leave him for dead but sell him instead.

This passage is about jealousy. It is about privilege. It is about ridding yourself of something that challenges you or bothers you or threatens you. And lying about what happened. And selling out. And profiting on the back of another.

My goodness. Does it get any more dramatic? Does it get any more in-your-face 'real' than this?  I'm tempted to lead us down the road of wondering what Joseph was thinking about when he's six feet under, so to speak... sitting in a pit wondering if he will live or die. Wondering why his brothers so easily tossed his life away?

But this story isn't really about how Joseph feels in the pit. This story is about the brothers.  The brothers who are so willing to get rid of someone (their own flesh and blood, mind you!) that they feel threatened by.  They are jealous of Joseph's favor with their father. They are threatened by his 'star' in their dad's eyes.  They somehow easily throw him into this pit and initially leave him to die.

This story is about the brothers easily discarding their own kin. And then deciding instead not to let him die, but not because they feel any empathy or sorrow for him, but to gain a profit.  

I am reminded of times and situations in my own life when I have perhaps too easily walked away from my own identity.  Moving to a new place, starting a new life, and deciding to not cling to the old. There is great power in new beginnings, but there is great power in remembering where you're from, as well.

I have recently begun to research the cooking that is native to my homeland, Appalachia.  I walked away from a lot of things southern when we moved West over thirteen years ago, but I have realized that I cannot NOT be southern. I was born and raised southern and I grew up eating southern food and living southern life.  What did I toss in the pit when I moved here and why? What did I sell out to? Why was that so important? What did I lose or gain in that process?

In the American institution we call church, we have made much of what we do a commodity that can be bought and sold. We have sometimes thrown into the pit and sold to the highest bidder so much of what the original church was supposed to be. We have sometimes let commerce take over even the spiritual aspects of our lives and insist on programs and activities and consumable goods as a part of our church experience.  We have sold out our faith as a commodity. We plan events that do a public good, perhaps, like taking up donations for a worthwhile cause or feeding hungry people and the like... but we put it into a slick packaging that makes it a marketable value.  Like it's somehow more palatable to love one another when we get something consumer-oriented from it ourselves.  I don't know why we require goods and services in exchange for every single thing we do in life, but that has become the American way... in every facet of life.

In the highly-acclaimed HBO series Six Feet Under, a family-run funeral home hangs onto being family run with the threat of corporate takeover looming over them, enticing them, luring them to become corporate or else. It is an undercurrent that ran throughout the show. The integrity to fight the good fight or the lure of reward if you give in.

How have we thrown our religious values six feet under? Tossed them aside for a new and cool version of Jesus and what it means to follow him?  How have we sold out the Christ we are called to follow in favor of a newer, sleeker savior?

There are no easy ways to look at this story if we are the brothers tossing our own away. But it is a very real concern. Our tendency to let our petty jealousies and our desire to be the 'star in the beautiful coat' affects the way we see and love our neighbor. Or don't.

Thoughts? Email me or comment below.