Sunday, August 27, 2023

Anything But Ordinary: Moses' Birth

Image from sanctifiedart.org - used as part of a purchased series "Anything But Ordinary"


Exodus 1:8-2:10 and Matthew 16: 13-20                                                     

 

Last week, we ended our Family Fun Day Sunday story with Ocho in such a happy way—Joseph was reunited with his brothers and forgave them. The ancestors of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph were all gathered to Egypt—the land of enough—growing stronger and more numerous. And then we hear this ominous turn in the story—“Now a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.” 

 

Isn’t that just how things go?
People are in relationship and thriving… and then someone begins to see and label another as a threat. This new king saw danger whether the Israelite people stayed in the land or left, so he constructed a system of slavery. The more they were oppressed, the more numerous they became and so the story goes, “the Egyptians came to dread the Israelites.” Their fear turned them into monsters—and they treated the Israelites in cruel, ruthless and bitter ways. In fact, they ordered the midwives to kill the boy babies as they were born. It was not only to get rid of any potential future army or uprising, but it was to destroy their hope.

An artist, Hannah Garrity, reflects on this story—“Of course, the midwives should break the edict of the king. However, it takes incredible bravery to stand up to human power. It is incredible that they were fearless enough to defy and lie to the king. The moral is easier said than done: we must always do the right thing, even when it puts out lives in danger. Be brave.”

 

In this situation, the clever minds and sheer courage of Shiprah and Puah is remarkable. Shiprah and Puah are the two midwives who are named as heros in this story because they save all the babies from this evil plan. They don’t say “no” to the king. They simply don’t do what he commands, and then they tell this great God-blessed lie, “Sorry king, we don’t even get there in time to help these vigorous Hebrew women—the boys are born well before we arrive.” 

And as Lisle Gwynn Garrity, the artist who designed the beautiful cover image today notes, “the impact of their actions, like the waters of the Nile, ripples out far beyond them.” 

 

Garrity also says this about their hands in the painting, “They are the hands that said no to a power-hungry ruler but yes to a God of justice—to a God who transforms a story of massacred into one of liberation.”

 

In the short-term, the babies were still not out of danger though… because we hear that the mother of Moses kept him alive by hiding him for three months. And when she couldn’t hide him any longer, she put him in a protective basket that she made and placed him where someone could save him—and sure enough, the Pharaoh’s daughter discovered him. Miriam, Moses’ protective big sister, was watching. Smart girl, she offered her own mother as someone who could continue to breast feed and care for the child, and in fact, now Pharaoh’s daughter would pay Moses’ mother to care for him until he grew up. And in this way, God saved Moses and his family from threat and placed Moses in the household of Pharaoh. 

 

What a complicated and miraculous story—and this is just the beginning of God’s plans for saving the Israelites. And it makes me wonder, in what situations in our lives are we being called like Shiprah and Puah to do the right thing, even in the face of power, to be brave?

In what situations in our lives are we—like Moses and Miriam, their mother and the Pharoah’s daughter, placed exactly where we need to be in relationship with others for present and future transformation? None of the rest of the story could unfold as it did without each of them carrying out their unique part. 

 

Moses truly had a “third-culture” identity—he was truly Hebrew and he was raised in the very center of Egyptian culture, as the Pharoah’s grandson. What a very unique view he must have had as he grew in awareness of the situation… that some of the people he loved were oppressed and that others were oppressors, and that human-created systems of injustice harm everyone in the system. But in situations of harm and danger, there are always those—like Shiprah and Puah—like Moses’ mother and sister, Miriam—like the Pharoah’s daughter—who resist and interrupt harm, who protect and cultivate others and make room for all.

 

Generations later, Jesus came along in a situation where the king of the day was called Caesar. Instead of Son of God, a kingly title, Jesus called himself Son of Man… as if to say that Jesus’ identity was grounded with the people. But Simon Peter, one of Jesus’ closest followers, said even more about Jesus—Simon Peter said that Jesus was the promised one who would save them from oppression because it was God’s hope, God’s vison, God’s dream for them. And Jesus answered that after this, Simon would be known as Peter—which means rock—because on this kind of foundation, this kind of understand, a whole new kind of faith would grow. From this kind of faith community, God would save people from worship of oppressors and oppression and would begin to turn to one another and love. This was and is God’s dream and hope for us.

 

This is the hope, the vision, God’s dream that we’ll sing about and pray for… and when we are brave like Shiprah and Puah, Moses and Miriam, Pharoah’s daughter, Jesus, Peter… when we are brave, we will act and bring it into being. It’s not that it happens all at once or that we see God’s vision unfold perfectly… but we do glimpse it.

 

On Friday, we hosted John Arlandson’s funeral… and although none of us imagined that we would be grieving John’s death and celebrating his life so very soon after Ivy’s death last November, it was very moving to see so many of the same family, friends, loved ones gathered again. It was very meaningful to see how the Hospitality team and so many people of Christ gathered around the Arlandson family with their presence, love and support. And then, later that same day, we celebrated at the ordination of now Pastor Carrie Stiles, our former intern pastor. I was so moved at the group of people who were able to attend—especially after so many of you worked all day to set up, serve and clean up at the funeral. It was such an honor to be with you as we sang the Cambodian Lord’s Prayer at Carrie’s invitation. I was so grateful to see the many ways that we showed up for Carrie. Thank you to those who were able to come—the witness of your presence was meaningful. These are just two of the ways that people of this part of the body of Christ showed up for one another this week… and I know that there are many, many more ways that you showed you care, that you protected and helped others, that by God’s grace, you gave a glimpse of God’s deep, expansive love. It is not always easy to do the next right thing, especially in the brokenness that surrounds and impacts us, yet this is God’s call and invitation. So, thank you for all the ways you are already responding to God’s callings and may we be brave to say yes to God’s next right thing.

Sunday, August 06, 2023

Anything But Ordinary: Joseph Forgives

Image from sanctifiedart.org - used as part of a purchased series "Anything But Ordinary"

Genesis 45:1-15 and Luke 3: 3b-6


Today is my Dad’s 78th birthday and that has taken on special meaning because last Saturday night, we weren’t sure he would live through the night. We visited him in the afternoon and he did not look well, but there was no clarity about what was wrong. We talked with nursing staff again in the evening and went back to be with him, thinking maybe we were saying goodbye. Then, we left him resting peacefully, only to get more calls throughout the night. The good news is that after a trip to the ER and two days in the hospital, he is back to Lyngblomsten care center and doing much better. But I know that many of you have had these kinds of sleepless nights, nights of wrestling with difficult decisions, nights of struggling … so many of us can relate to this story of Jacob wrestling throughout the night, in the wilderness, with God. 

We have been learning Jacob’s story over several weeks – we learned how Jacob struggled with his twin brother Esau even before birth. We learned how as a young adult, Jacob tricked his father and brother, receiving the blessing that would normally have been given to the oldest sibling. We learned how Jacob ran away… met Rachel at a well, fell in love… and then through a series of events married her oldest sister, Leah, and bore twelve children with four women. Now, in this part of the story, Jacob is headed back to his homeland with vast riches and a large family of his own. Maybe he will be able to make things right with Esau after all, but he’s nervous. He’s so anxious that he sends all his family, servants, herds of animals—this giant, visible show of wealth—ahead of him, with words of peace to offer to his brother. And he lays down his weary head for a last night’s rest before he meets his estranged brother face-to-face and someone comes to him when he is alone and wrestles with him all night long. Neither wrestler will yield. Finally, Jacob’s opponent struck him on the hip socket and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint, but Jacob still holds on. The stranger pleads, “Let me go, for the day is breaking,” but Jacob says, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” The stranger gives Jacob with a new name – Israel – that means “one who struggles with God.” But when Israel asks for the stranger’s name, the stranger doesn’t tell… and this is how Jacob knows who it is. Jacob names the place Peniel—face of God—and realizes that he has experienced something miraculous, to wrestle with God and live. Jacob walks away limping… and blessed.

 

Rabbi Aron Moss notices these details about the story:

 

[The name Israel is] even more surprising. If our name is all about prevailing in our struggles, why not call us “the one who prevails,” rather than “the one who struggles”? Isn’t the point that we win…? Why name us after the struggle instead of the victory?

Here is the essence of Judaism: We do believe that goodness prevails, but the happy ending is not our focus. Our focus is the struggle to get there. Regardless of the result, the struggle itself is holy. If you strive for goodness, you’re in, even before you get there. If you’re trying to be better, even if you fall sometimes, you’re on the path. It’s all about the struggle.

That’s why the Torah doesn’t speak about heaven. We believe in the afterlife, but we aren’t preoccupied with it. We focus our energy on the effort to be a good person, the struggle to do the right thing, the battle against our adversaries, both internal and external.

Some religions seek serenity. Some spiritual paths promise peace. Others offer a place in heaven. Judaism embraces the struggle of the here and now. The victory will come. But for the time being, we are here to grapple with G‑d, debate with our fellow humans, and struggle with ourselves, never accepting that the world can’t change, starting with me. That’s [the meaning of this new name,] Israel.[1]

 

What a moving insight for all of us who struggle at times, or what may seem like all the time—

 

Our faith as followers of Jesus comes from these roots and from Jewish neighbors in faith… for the time being, in this life, we grapple with God, debate with our fellow humans and struggle with ourselves… and the struggle itself is holy.

 

For Muslim siblings in faith, the term is jihad. This term has been so misunderstood but it literally means striving, or doing one’s utmost. Within Islam, there are two basic theological understandings of the word: the “greater jihad” is the struggle against the lower self—the struggle to purify one’s heart, do good, avoid evil and make oneself a better person.

 

In Lutheran Christianity, we believe it is by God’s grace that we are freed from sin and death… and this gives us the freedom to love. This grace and freedom doesn’t mean we don’t struggle, but ideally, we can remember as we move through times of struggle that what we are freed for is to freely give love, forgiveness and compassion to others. That’s how we use any power or blessing we receive—letting it overflow and uplift.

 

As I think about the struggles that we are facing, I wonder if we can imagine with Jewish siblings that the struggle itself is holy? 

 

I wonder if we can imagine with Muslim siblings that our most important jihad is the struggle within our own hearts?

 

I wonder if we can imagine God’s Holy Spirit accompanying us through daily struggles… with the goal of breathing life, forgiveness, healing and compassion into and out from us?

 

I am impressed that after Jacob’s night of wrestling, he never gave up, he held on and never stopped believing there was a blessing there for him. May we also keep holding on, ready to receive blessing, ready to pass on that blessing, ready to notice when the one we’re struggling with is God-in-flesh who loves us so completely and wants good for us.