Exodus 3:1-15 Romans 12:9-21 Matthew 16:21-28
What an amazingly terrible week it
has been as we continue to hear stories about the devastation in Texas. And
yet, is it amazingly wonderful to hear story after story of the resilience of
those in Texas. It is with no small amount of pride that we post stories and
tell tales of the “Cajun Navy” and the new development of the all volunteer “Texas Navy.”
Still, I will admit feeling slightly overwhelmed by all
the information about the needs resulting from this storm. It leaves me a
little punch drunk, and my temptation is to focus on the tasks that already
felt overwhelming before the storm. Of course, I want to jump in and help
however I can, but as soon as I do I am confronted by my own limitations.
I’m guessing that we’ve all felt that way from time to
time, and I’ve asked a few friends to help me reflect on these types of
experiences with you. They are going to share with you now a Reader’s Theater
piece from the book, The Next Voice You Hear: Sermons We Preach Together. This story is called, Here I Am, Send Claude.
Reader 1: The thing about burning bushes is –
they
get our attention!
It’s
not that Yahweh God
Loves
showing off,
Or
anything like that.
Reader 2: “For my next trick, I
present – a burning bush!”
Reader 1: Burning
bushes come in many forms,
In all sizes and shapes.
We are going about our
own business,
Like Moses there at
Horeb,
And suddenly our
attention is captured…
Reader 2: By the number of homeless ones in town,
Or the treatment of the
misfit at work,
Or the weeds in the
church garden,
Or the suffering of a
good friend,
Or whatever…
Reader 1: We
see a need,
By George, someone ought
to do something!
Golly, someone has got
to start caring!
We can stand it no
longer;
The problem cannot be
ignored.
It will not go away by
itself.
Something must be
done.
And lo and behold, we are there,
Standing at our burning
bush.
God has captured our
attention,
Pinpointed a particular
need,
At work… in the
neighborhood… at church
In the family... in the
world…
Someone has to
start doing something!
That is clear at
burning bushes.
But
who is going to do it?
That is not so clear.
Who will tackle the job?
This is the part of the
message
We have trouble
understanding.
The need is clear,
But
the name we keep hearing
As we stand by that
bush,
The name of the doer God
has in mind,
Must be a mistake.
It is our own name.
Reader 2: Moses!
Moses!
Reader 1: Here I
am.
Reader 2: Moses, go down to Egypt Land;
Tell old Pharaoh,
To let my people, go.
Reader 1: Right,
Lord, something must be done in Egypt;
Someone must help your people there.
Thank goodness you see
the need.
It is about time you got
around to acting.
Congratulations, Lord. I
am all for the project.
Here I am, Lord,
But send Dottie.
Dottie: Here I am, Lord,
But I am already serving on three important committees;
Send Gladene.
Gladene: Here
I am, Lord,
But I have a house full of reweaving to finish;
Send Carol.
Carol:
Here I am, Lord,
But working full time, and running a hotel for relatives,
Is all I can do;
Send Dave.
Dave:
Here I am,
Lord,
But I’m completely tied up in the World Wide Web;
Send Leigh.
Leigh:
Here I am, Lord,
But I’ve got to find a job;
Send Bill.
Bill:
Here I am, Lord,
But it is not in my job
description;
Send Claude.
All:
Who’s Claude?
Reader 2: Here
I am…Send Claude!
It is natural, one supposes, to feel somewhat inadequate
When confronting burning bushes.
It is natural, one supposes,
When we really have our attention
Directed to a crucial need in human life,
To feel our own resources are not sufficient.
Reader 1: At
burning bushes, we empathize with Moses,
As he shouts out…
Reader 2: I
am not religious enough for this job, Lord.
I can’t go to Egypt; I am a wanted man there.
I am not a public speaker.
Here I am, but
Dottie is friendlier;
Send her.
Dottie: Gladene is more conscientious;
Send her.
Gladene: Carol has been a member longer;
Send her.
Carol:
Dave is taller;
Send him.
Dave:
Leigh has seminary training;
Send her.
Leigh: Bill has more experience;
Send him.
Bill:
Here I am, Lord;
Send Claude.
All:
Who’s Claude?
Reader 1: The
trouble with burning bushes is
They don’t go away.
At burning bushes, we see a need.
We may feel inadequate.
We may be sure someone else could do it better.
We may not want to be bothered.
We wish the bush would go away.
But burning bushes are very personal;
That burning bush is for me.
Reader 2: Not Dottie, Not Gladene, Not Carol, Not Dave,
Not Leigh, Not Bill, Not Claude…
Reader 1: The burning bush I meet is my own.
It is my name I hear called.
There God calls me
To meet the particular human need I see.
No matter how I try to escape,
The name that is called remains the same.
Reader 2: Moses!
Moses!
Reader 1: It is my name.
Reader 2: Moses!
Moses!
Reader 1: Here I am;
send Dottie.
Dottie:
Send Gladene.
Gladene: Send
Carol.
Carol:
Send Dave.
Dave: Send
Leigh.
Leigh:
Send Bill.
Bill:
Send Claude.
All:
Who’s Claude?
Reader 1: But the burning
bush is not for Claude;
It is for me.
Claude has
his own bush.
The bush I
see,
The need God
puts before my eyes,
In my mind,
on my heart,
Has my name
written on it,
And my name
alone.
Reader 2: “And I heard the
voice of the Lord saying,
‘Whom shall I
send, and who will go for us?’
Then I said,
‘Here I am! Send me!’”
Yes, Lord! Send me! How good and righteous it feels to
say those words, yet how hard they can be to follow up. Maybe not amid a crisis
when needs are so evident, but yeah – sometimes even then. Even so, I do love
the way our little drama has taken away the blinders that keep us from seeing
God’s constant invitation to the dance floor.
This faith that we live and love is much like a dance at
times. It brings us off balance by claims of love that extend far beyond our
Christian community and even to our enemies. We are even told to pick up our
crosses, to place our hope and trust in heavenly things, and to leave both
vengeance and redemption up to God.
And as our heads spin and follow our hearts and our
hands, we find that we have come back around to the center; to the reality of
loving and being loved.
Our particular witness in this community must always be
grounded in this crazy, unnaturally familiar love that we share as followers of
Jesus. Paul even made up a word to describe it (philostorgoi), because people
that are not related do not naturally love one another as a family member.
People, as a rule, do not naturally concern themselves with problems that do
not directly affect them.
Yet the burning bush with my name on it commands me to
be concerned. The cross that Jesus offers me commands me to be concerned. The
love of this community that flows from that cross commands me to love even
those that would harm me and my family.
And as hard as that is to swallow, I think it comes down
to our old friend, Fred Rogers, who once said, “We live in a world in which we need to
share responsibility. It's easy to say, "It's not my child, not my
community, not my world, not my problem." Then there are those who see the
need and respond. I consider those people my heroes.”
The good news is that there are heroes all around, and
many are sitting next to you. Our congregation has been actively supporting
ongoing flood recovery efforts when many have disengaged. We continue to
collect peanut butter for the UCO, and on top of that we collected 221 pounds
of food for FoodNet. Obviously, this is a drop in the bucket of the needs all
around, but for us, and for God’s glory, it’s kind of a big deal. But, as Paul
counsels us, let’s not get a big head about it. Besides, there’s a lot more
that needs doin’.
Our town is already seeing its
hotels and homes and other places of refuge begin to fill. I imagine that, if
we keep our eyes open, we’ll be seeing a burning bush or two in the days ahead.
So, let us be grounded in love. Let us be willing to overcome evil with good,
and let us keep our focus on the Kingdom of God – which Jesus came to show us;
which we see more and more of through the opportunity to love.
God’s Kingdom offers us no stability or security in this
life, but it places us firmly in the eternal embrace of the one who is, was,
and always shall be. It is this God who holds us through the storm. It is this
God who suffers with us. It is this God that tells us that we were made for
more than all of our silly schemes and social standings. It is this God that
creates and redeems and provides again and again and again, and it is this God
who hears the cry of those who suffer and calls my name and your name and sends
us to proclaim salvation.
We’ll do that today at the Lord’s
table, and we’ll do it tomorrow at someone else’s table. We’ll do it where
we're called, and we’ll do it wherever where we can. And let the Lord break
hearts of stone and give hearts for love alone wherever we go – even if it’s
mine; even if it’s yours. And to God be the glory, now and always. Amen.
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