The Thirteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Every week I usually receive several “Here are some helps for your sermon preparation” emails. Sometimes they are helpful; other times less so. This week, I had read the lessons several times before I opened the email that had this  as its “lead”. It mentions the date. It has a picture of Moses being discovered in his basket in the Nile. AND it suggests “Themes for the Week:  Israelites, Moses, living sacrifice, Son of Man, Messiah, House of God” (The Living Church, https://tinyurl.com/245m4a76).

I read those “themes” several times . . . and I could recall “mentions” those items in our readings. But I thought the editors really missed a unifying thread. That thread is summed up in Robert Heinlein’s famous book title (a quote from Exodus 2.20, by the way):  Stranger in a Strange Land.  All of the lessons, as far as I’m concerned, address the question: “How do we lead faithful lives in an environment where such faithfulness isn’t necessarily supported?”

The reading from Exodus assumes that we know what had happened before the new Pharaoh came to power. Just in case we don’t remember: over the last few weeks, we’ve learned how the Israelites got to Egypt—stories about Jacob and his sons, Joseph’s interpretation of a  previous Pharaoh’s dream and subsequent success in his court, and his brothers  seeking refuge in Egypt to escape famine. The, and we heard, the Israelites grew in numbers and began to be seen as a threat to the Egyptians. The new Pharaoh fans the flames—exaggerating the Israelite “threat”—and  begins to persecute the Israelites. The “strange land” of Egypt—that dominant culture, embodied in Pharaoh—then makes horrific demands on the Israelite midwives. The midwives, however,  refuse to go along with Pharaoh’s demands; their commitment to God and their people is greater than their fear of the consequences of non-conformity. Indeed, in Exodus, we have one of the first recorded acts of civil disobedience—by women!

But there’s more! No only did the midwives not comply with Pharaoh’s edict. His  own daughter refused to conform; she had to have known his command, since she did notice that “This must be one of the Hebrews’ children” (Ex 2.6)? AND she sought a Hebrew nursemaid for the child—a nursemaid who turned out to be Moses’ very mother. Her compassion and humanity (Exodus points out, “she felt sorry for him”) ran contrary to the fear and inhumanity of her father and the Egyptians who rallied to his cause. 

And there’s still more! I have to wonder what  Moses’ mother, acting as nursemaid, and then nanny, sang to Moses every day? What did she teach him about their common past? I doubt she towed the Egyptian party line! She had a different, more powerful, faith story to pass on—one which had resulted in Moses’ very rescue from Pharaoh’s designs.

How do we live in a strange land? The women of this story teach us: “Be true to God’s commands, not Pharaoh’s; live with compassion; tell the stories that make us who we are!”

Non-conformity to the dominant culture is central to Paul’s exhortation to the Roman Christians. To a mixed group of Jews and Gentiles—all of whom lived within a “sacrificial culture”—Paul says,  “Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice! That’s a holy and acceptable offering!” In other words: “God doesn’t want an animal to die in place of you! God wants your whole, living, self!” This requires a total re-orientation of thinking: the “patterns of this world” are off-base in so many ways, we are to transform our thinking and living.

The dominant culture in the ancient world—not so different from ours—prized  status—social and economic—above all else. Paul’s argument for nonconformity and reorientation recognizes a different calculus: God has given every one of us unique gifts and talents. There are different gifts, yes! But those differences themselves are all part of what makes the Christian community what it is: special and complete. In the  Body of Christ, we are not to make the distinctions that the wider world might make. On the contrary, we are to value and lift up all the gifts that make up the church.

How do we live in a strange land? Recognize the breadth of God’s gift-giving.  All enrich the community; all are welcome. No exceptions.

In our reading from Matthew’s Gospel (as in Mark and Luke), we’re treated to another instance highlighting the difference between what the “crowd” thinks and what Christians think. Jesus asks his  closest followers what “people” have to say about the “Son of Man”. [ Sidebar: “Son of Man" is a much talked-about term, and we’re uncertain how it may be used here. It could be a  humble way of saying “me”; Mark’s and Luke’s versions of this story, for example, have Jesus asking his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” (Mk 8.27; Lk 9.18). Or it could be a way of referring to some future saving figure—  the “Messiah”; Matthew’s version seems to point in that direction. Regardless, the issue is about how the people, see an expected leader.]

Jesus’ disciples—giving voice to various factions in the “crowd” propose a lot of options:   John the Baptist resurrected;  Elijah;  Jeremiah; or another prophet. But all of the suggestions seem to point in the direction of something politically significant . . . someone that would help restore Israel’s dignity and prominence and, perhaps, overthrow Rome. In other words, the expectation was in conformity to the “ways of the world”.

But Jesus gets more pointed, more specific: he asks the disciples about their experience, their expectation, of him,  “Who do y’all say that I am?” (Mt  16.15). Peter, acting as their spokesman, identifies  Jesus with the “Messiah”—a figure, many believed, who would sit upon David’s throne, re-making Israel as a political power. Jesus affirms Peter’s alternate identification, but . . .  But he doesn’t want the news spread around. Why? Because, even Peter—with all of the information and experience he has had about Jesus—doesn’t get what “Messiah” means. He doesn’t recognize that “Messiah” is something  deeper, even more radical. The Messiah, and the Messiah’s followers, are to inaugurate a different kind of realm, one which demands self-sacrifice; service to others is at the core.

How do we live in a strange land? We adopt the way of the Cross:  we serve—not seeking our glory, we lift others up. We strive to make a difference in that strange land, in that way.

The “theme” that strikes me is clear: God’s faithful live in a way that may be contrary to the crowd’s expectations. Whether the crowd lives in fear of immigrants . . . whether the crowd expects any measure of economic or social status to be paramount . . . whether the crowd is looking to a “powerful” leader . . . God’s answer to those expectations looks in a different direction.  Live and lead with compassion. Live and lead valuing diversity and inclusion. Live and lead with self-sacrificial service. Live and lead . . . differently.

This morning we add another member to the Body of Christ. Her parents, godparents, and we will promise to help her discern that the crowd’s ways are not always the best ways. We, with her parents and godparents, vow to live differently . We vow to meet together for mutual support and to recognize our reliance upon God. We vow to support and forgive each other in times of temptation and failure. We vow to speak God’s good news to the world. We vow to seek and serve Christ in all persons. We vow to work for justice, peace, and dignity for all. We vow to honor God’s creation. If what we vow here, this morning, is not an act of non-conformity, or, perhaps even, an act of civil disobedience, I’m not sure what is.

Answering Jesus’ question, “Who do you say that I am?” by coming to the baptismal font requires different things of us as individuals. We may be called to resist  “workaholism” and to set the care of our family—and our own selves—at the forefront. We may be called to refuse the summons  recklessly to consume our limited natural resources. We may be called upon to  speak up for those whose voices are regularly silenced by a culture that doesn’t want to listen.  We may be called to  tell stories that aren’t often taught in Pharaoh’s schools. We will all have to discern where we’re challenged. The different gifts we’ve been given (as Paul writes) will translate into different tactics to “resist”. But, with God’s help, all may be seen as acts of faithfulness.

 They are all acts of those us who vow to live as strangers in a strange land.

 

Amen