Sermon for Third Sunday in Lent - The Rev. Elise A. Feyerherm - March 20th, 2022

To view a video of the Rev. Elise A. Feyerherm’s sermon, click HERE.

The readings from Hebrew Scripture, both last week and today, invite us into unsettling encounters. Last week, the word of the LORD comes to Abram in a vision, promising to give Abram many descendants. This mysterious word – mysterious because it is still not at all clear how this will come to pass – prompts Abram to offer sacrifices, giving bodily expression to the radical change that is occurring in Abram’s life.

And if that were not enough, Abram falls into a deep sleep, and, we are told, “a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.” The presence of God slices through Abram’s sacrifices in the form of a fire pot and a flaming torch, signaling the start of a new relationship, a covenant between this human being and the Most High God.

This week, one of those descendants of Abram has his own unsettling encounter, seeing a bush that blazes but is not consumed, and hearing the voice of God call him by name – Moses, Moses! Like his ancestor, Moses comes into the presence of the God who is beyond understanding, whose word brings unimaginable and unsettling changes in one’s life. Like Abram, Moses will never be the same again.

This encounter of Moses with God on Horeb – which is another name for Sinai – is one of the most profound stories in the scriptures, and one that I have always loved. It, like the story of Abram, is a classic example of what the scholar Rudolf Otto called, “the mysterium tremendum et fascinans.” It is the mystery which causes us to tremble with fear and yet toward which we are inevitably drawn. We hide our face, like Moses, and yet we long to come closer, like a moth to the flame.

Lent is, I think, a season in which we are called to come into the presence of the mystery of God, a mystery which, if we are honest, deeply unsettles us. This season of repentance invites us to consider the ways in which we need to be transformed by God and led into uncharted territory – this story of Moses and the burning bush and others like it invite us to imagine how that might happen.

If we look closely, this story offers a pattern for transformation – not a formula, not a guaranteed solution, but a way of being that opens us to mystery. It is the pattern of our lives with a God who is beyond our understanding and who loves us without limit.

First, Moses goes about his daily life. He takes care of business, in this case, keeping the flock of his father-in-law. It is a reminder that ordinary life is not an obstacle to meeting God, but is the place where God happens. This is not to say that seeking out sacred places and engaging in sacred worship is not important, but rather that what we learn in those sacred places and practices is meant to be lived out in our ordinary, daily, mundane existence. We should expect to meet God in that existence.

The next part of the pattern is that Moses notices. He notices something unexpected – a glimmer of flame catches his eye, and he stops to pay attention to it. You may ask how Moses could possibly have missed seeing a burning bush in the wilderness – point taken, but who knows where this blazing bush was or what exactly it looked like? The thing is that Moses paid attention, and he turned aside to look at it more closely. He didn’t just shake his head, convince himself he was just imagining things, and continue on his way. He paid attention. He was curious. He wondered – what is this thing? What is happening here?

Every day, every moment of our lives, there is something to pay attention to. The crocuses sneaking up out of the ground in a hidden corner of the yard. The sound of birds in the morning. The person without shelter huddled in a doorway. The unexpected opportunity to meet someone, or go to an event. We cannot pay attention to everything, but we can cultivate the practice of noticing where we are, attending to something new or out of the ordinary. Each of these things is a potential word from God. It is when we notice, and turn aside, that something can happen.

Because when Moses does this, God calls out. God calls this descendant of Abraham by name. Out of the thing that Moses notices, out of his wonderment, comes encounter. Because Moses has paid attention, he is primed to hear something new from God, and he hears it spoken directly to him. God knows Moses, knows his deepest self, and by calling Moses’ name reveals that self as holy and beloved.

To call someone by name is to desire a response from that person, to desire relationship. This is what Moses does – respond. Notice that the response is simple: “Here I am.” It doesn’t promise anything, but just acknowledges that “I’m here, I’m listening.” And that is enough. When we hear the voice of God, however that comes, it’s enough just to say “Here I am.” Whoever we are, however we are, whatever our limitations, we are enough.

You don’t have to promise God the world, or pretend to be more gung-ho than you are. Just show up. Just listen. God has called your name, which means that God wants a response from you and longs for relationship with you.

Notice, turn, listen. At this point it is appropriate to feel some trepidation, because already the possibility of our life being upended is there. The story tells us that “Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.” Not afraid of God, but afraid to look at God. When you are addressed by the Creator and Sustainer of the cosmos, it is natural to feel a little overwhelmed. But no fear; this will not stop God.

For when we notice, and turn, and listen, there comes a call to embody this new relationship with the Most High God. God, knowing and calling Moses’ name, knowing Moses’ deepest identity, has a job for Moses. God sees oppression and misery, and says to Moses, “I will send you.”

Moses is not convinced this work is for him – “Who am I?” he asks. Have you gotten me mixed up with some other Moses working the flocks of Midian? This is not who I think I am; I am not equipped to do this work. But God knows otherwise. God knows who Moses is better than Moses himself does – just as God knows and holds our true selves more deeply than we could ever imagine. God, as the great and only I AM, sustains and orders our “I am.” “Who am I?” becomes “I am God’s.”

So this is the pattern – live our ordinary lives, pay attention, turn toward the unexpected, listen, and claim the work that God gives each of us to do.

And here is the thing – we do not have to do everything. We cannot do everything. Not everything is our work to do. Although Moses was called to do a big thing, it was his thing – it was the task God gave him to do. It was the task that revealed itself as he was going about his ordinary life, noticing, turning, listening, and responding.

What each of us is called to do with our encounter with the mysterious God will reveal itself out of the fabric of our daily lives, out of the unique tapestry that is each of us. It is the noticing, turning, and listening that will help us sort out the noise of ten thousand needs and possibilities, and hear the one thing that is necessary in that moment. But when you hear it, you will know. And you will be able to say, “Here I am.”