Moses, Murderer and Alien

Exodus 2:11-22 (NRSV)

One day, after Moses had grown up, he went out to his people and saw their forced labor. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsfolk. He looked this way and that, and seeing no one he killed the Egyptian and hid him in the sand. When he went out the next day, he saw two Hebrews fighting; and he said to the one who was in the wrong, “Why do you strike your fellow Hebrew?” He answered, “Who made you a ruler and judge over us? Do you mean to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?” Then Moses was afraid and thought, “Surely the thing is known.” When Pharaoh heard of it, he sought to kill Moses.

But Moses fled from Pharaoh. He settled in the land of Midian, and sat down by a well. The priest of Midian had seven daughters. They came to draw water, and filled the troughs to water their father’s flock. But some shepherds came and drove them away. Moses got up and came to their defense and watered their flock. When they returned to their father Reuel, he said, “How is it that you have come back so soon today?” They said, “An Egyptian helped us against the shepherds; he even drew water for us and watered the flock.” He said to his daughters, “Where is he? Why did you leave the man? Invite him to break bread.” Moses agreed to stay with the man, and he gave Moses his daughter Zipporah in marriage. She bore a son, and he named him Gershom; for he said, “I have been an alien residing in a foreign land.”

As Moses is the central figure in Exodus, there is no getting around talking about him in this cavalcade of characters from Scripture.

It feels a bit daunting to write about him.  Along with David, he's perhaps the most well know person from the Hebrew Scriptures.  Since his story is so all-encompassing, I think I will spend this week looking at sections of it.

We know Moses was raised by Pharaoh's daughter as his son, yet here there is the distinct impression that somewhere along the way, someone (one of his mothers?) told him his true ancestry.  He saw an Egyptian beating one of his kinfolk - one of "his people."

And then in a flash of a moment, Moses, the leader who will rise up to save his people from their captivity, kills the Egyptian in a manner that cannot really be described as self-defense.  There is pre-meditation here.

As he is described looking "this way and that," we know he is trying carefully not to be caught.  This is a planned attack.  This isn't simply to rescue the Hebrew slave

This is cold-blooded murder born of anger.

What do we do with this?  God has chosen a motley crew it seems in the work of the saving of the world.  Moses a murderer, David an adulterer, Jacob a liar...

What does it say about us?

That with all our inadequacies - both real and imagined - there is work to be done.

That we can't count anyone out.  That the greatest sinner may have much to teach us about God's abiding love.

That crime doesn't define a person.

That perhaps our system of justice, where punishment (often brutal) is the focus rather than rehabilitation, may be missing the point.

Moses fled after his crime and landed himself in yet a third household.  Born a Hebrew slave, matured in an Egyptian palace, now Moses is in Midian, where he will stay until the time is right.  An "alien" who is taken in by a people.

Might be something to say there about how we treat our immigrant citizens as well.

God of all people, help us to remember never to count anyone out.  To see the person not the crime; the human being, not the ancestry.  To always seek justice that is tempered with your mercy so that all can know your deep abiding love for them.  Amen 

Women by the Nile - Moses' Mothers

Exodus 2:5-10 (NRSV)

The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it. When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him. “This must be one of the Hebrews’ children,” she said. Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Yes.” So the girl went and called the child’s mother. Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed it. When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and she took him as her son. She named him Moses, “because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

In a sense, Jochebed doesn't hand Moses over once.  She does it twice.  First when she puts him in the water, and second when, after he's weaned, she gives him back to Pharaoh's daughter a final time for her to raise.

And the princess herself makes a decision not once, but twice, to defy her own father's law.  She knows that the child is a Hebrew child and takes him out of the river to save him, but then after time has passed, she has no second thoughts and takes him into her home as her son.

And she names him.

Both women disappear from the story at this point, and the story of Moses will go on without them.  And yet, without their story, Moses' life would have taken a very different turn.  Two women, defying one tyrant not once, but twice.  Loving one child.

I'm not sure I could have been a courageous.  Handing my child over again after getting precious time with him?

But knowing that the alternative was...well, what?

I have to admit that I am a huge second guesser of decisions I make.  Self-doubt is where I seem to be more comfortable.  So this story has always been amazing to me.

Yet I also have never lived under the life-crushing kind of law that Moses' mothers did: a law that literally meant life or death for a child.

But I have felt that same kind of protective love.

I will probably continue to dither about some decisions for the rest of my life.  But I can rest assured that the love and faithfulness of God is more like that of these two mothers.  No second guessing.  Love of perfect understanding.  

A mother's love.  

When I read this story I am reminded that the love of God is not boxed in in terms of gender.  God's love encompasses the kind of fierce, protective love that two women shared for a baby on the Nile.

Without second guessing.

God of love, your fierce love for us is like the love of a mother who is swept away by devotion to her child.  While we realize that not everyone has been fortunate enough to have that strength of love from a mother, we know that we have that from you.  Thank you!  Amen

Women by the Nile - Miriam

Exodus 2:4-8 (NRSV)

His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.

The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it. When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him. “This must be one of the Hebrews’ children,” she said. Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?”

Miriam has always been one of the characters met in Scripture who has always piqued my interest the most.  When I think of her, the first image that comes to mind is Miriam as prophetess, dancing with her timbrel to celebrate the successful crossing of the Red Sea in freedom from slavery.

So, in a sense, I have long associated with Miriam, freedom.  From her early days, the girl Miriam takes it up herself to suggest to Pharaoh's daughter a solution that will benefit both her mother and brother, as well as the Egyptian princess.  Perhaps her mother asked her to do this, but we aren't told that.  Instead, it seems Miriam is already a girl of initiative. 

However, as with freedom anywhere else, with Miriam we also learn its limits.  Later, after Moses returns as leader of his people, Miriam, who is known by then as a prophetess, will stretch her freedom too far.  She, along with Aaron, will publicly criticize Moses' choice of a wife.  It can be speculated she was jealous of Moses, since as a prophetess herself, she sought to assert some authority.  Hebrew tradition also implies she is guilty of gossip.

Either way, God punishes Miriam for this stretching out her freedom too far by making her leprous. (Not Aaron though...)

Yet both Aaron and Moses intercede for her and her punishment lasts only seven days.  For seven days she is put outside of the camp - freedom taken to the limits of isolation.

Freedom has its limits.  Freedom pushed beyond boundaries can isolate.  Can make us too sure of ourselves, rather than our God.  Freedom pushed beyond limits can be more than initiative and instead become self-glorification.  

God's gift to us is ultimate freedom.  Freedom to live into the life we are given.  To uncover and discover who our true selves are and enjoy the salvation we find through God's grace and the gift of loving our neighbor.

Freedom is not taking God's authority for ourselves.  To think that it means we can do whatever we want.  As humans (and perhaps particularly as Westerners or Americans), we tend to stretch our freedom to limits beyond God's intent.  We become Miriam and Aaron, stretching our authority beyond its bounds to make ourselves and our wills central in our lives.

Yet God continually calls us back.

Miriam had initiative.  She was given the gift of prophecy and know how to glorify God through song.  The girl grew into a woman who had authority we don't always see for women in scripture.

But like others before and after her, she pushed the limits of that authority and freedom.

We will push the limits as well.  Yet our God continually calls us back to right relationship with love.

Merciful God, forgive us when we put ourselves and our freedom above your will for us. Forgive us when we make idols of our own desires and forget your love and generosity.  Continue to call us back to your side and help us to hear your will for us always.  Amen.

Women by the Nile - Jochebed

Exodus 2:1-4

Now a man from the house of Levi went and married a Levite woman. The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a fine baby, she hid him three months. When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river.  His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.

What do you think was going through Jochabed's mind (again, noting as yesterday that we don't get Moses' mother's name here)?

For three months she cared for her child.  Hiding him when he cried.  Hiding him when he cried even louder.  Nursing him.  Caring for him.  Loving him.

And then...

What do you think was going through her mind?

It's hard I think to grasp the level of courage and faith displayed here.  Everything in her actions speaks to both believing her child will be safe and yet also knowing that his safety isn't with her in her home. 

I think it is also telling that we are given the supplies she used to make her basket.  Bitumen (according to a quick internet search!) is heavy, thick and viscous.  Pitch is thick and sticky.  By putting these on the papyrus basket, Moses' mother wanted to make sure he was safe.  She placed him by the reeds to make sure he was found.

She banked on her child finding a new home that could keep her safer than she could.

It is understandable perhaps that she doesn't seem to stay and watch what happens next.  It will be up to Moses' sister to move the story to the next phase.

Letting go of something that we've clung to for years is not exactly the same as setting your child loose on the mighty Nile.  Yet it may take the same courage and faith.  What are the things you hold onto that it might be time to let go of?  Things that in the letting go, will begin the process of setting you free and unencumbered for the journey God has in store for you?  A grudge against someone perhaps?  A addiction that needs to be admitted and faced?  A job that is wounding your spirit?  A relationship that is unhealthy? Pride?  Anger?  Jealousy?  Denial?

A lot goes through the mind before such a letting go, and courage and faith required before the first step can be taken may feel monumental.  

But not impossible.

God of possibility and promise, set me free.  Free from the bondage of sin and from the bonds I put on myself.  Help me to let go of the things that are keeping me from the wideness of the life you offer.  Amen.

Women by the Nile - Shiphrah & Puah

Exodus 1:15-2:10 (NRSV)

The king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, one of whom was named Shiphrah and the other Puah, “When you act as midwives to the Hebrew women, and see them on the birthstool, if it is a boy, kill him; but if it is a girl, she shall live.” But the midwives feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live. So the king of Egypt summoned the midwives and said to them, “Why have you done this, and allowed the boys to live?” The midwives said to Pharaoh, “Because the Hebrew women are not like the Egyptian women; for they are vigorous and give birth before the midwife comes to them.” So God dealt well with the midwives; and the people multiplied and became very strong. And because the midwives feared God, he gave them families. Then Pharaoh commanded all his people, “Every boy that is born to the Hebrews you shall throw into the Nile, but you shall let every girl live.”

Now a man from the house of Levi went and married a Levite woman. The woman conceived and bore a son; and when she saw that he was a fine baby, she hid him three months. When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river. His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.

The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it. When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him. “This must be one of the Hebrews’ children,” she said. Then his sister said to Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get you a nurse from the Hebrew women to nurse the child for you?” Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Yes.” So the girl went and called the child’s mother. Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give you your wages.” So the woman took the child and nursed it. When the child grew up, she brought him to Pharaoh’s daughter, and she took him as her son. She named him Moses, “because,” she said, “I drew him out of the water.”

Two Hebrew midwives, a Levite woman, and her daughter wouldn't seem to have much in common with a Princess of Egypt.  

Yet, as the book of Exodus begins it is the courageous and faithful act of women in the first two chapters of Exodus that will propel the future of God's chosen people.

The first new characters named in the story of the Exodus are two women - midwives from among the enslaved Hebrews - Shiphrah and Puah.  Did you know their names?  I didn't.  In all the years of reading and hearing the Moses story, it always seems to begin with the bravery of Jochebed and her daughter, Miriam (who interestingly aren't named here), as they put the baby, Moses, among the reeds to save him from Pharoah's wrath.

But it is these two women who make the first act of defiance against the tyrannical king of Egypt.  Long before Moses will set his people free, Shiphrah and Puah take the first step to make sure Moses will be around for his grand story.

Why do they take this step?  Why do they decide not to follow Pharaoh's orders to kill all the boy Hebrew babies at their birth?  It isn't, as one might imagine, because of a blood loyalty to their people.  Or even if that element is there, it is not the reason we are given.

The reason is that these two midwives fear God, not Pharaoh.

Fear of God.

It's a phrase that's become rather out of fashion among mainline Protestants.  Among evangelicals we hear it sometimes after a disaster, natural or otherwise, has happened in this country.  We hear that we don't adequately fear the Lord and so God's wrath has come upon us.

Admittedly that's an argument that I've dismissed.  Growing up in the Lutheran church as I have, God's faithfulness and love have always been the primary characteristics of God that I've held onto.  Fearing God has never been something I've considered all that often.  In fact, I've commented here on the importance of God's telling us not to be afraid.

But am I shortchanging God by doing that?  Is there more to fearing God than meets the eye?  Did Shiphrah and Puah know something that I don't?

Is God worthy of fear and not simply love?  And can we both fear God, and yet, not be afraid?

Consider the moment of baptism.  That moment is the moment we are told that God's claim on us comes to fruition.  It is the moment that the old self - our old Adam or old Eve or whatever term you wish to use - begins its death throes.  It is the moment that new creation blossoms.

It is the moment that the reality hits us - whether we are aware of it or not.  God is changing us.  God's claim on us is stronger than our selfishness, our will, and our sin.  God's claim on us IS who we are.

And we have a lifetime to live into that reality.

THAT should scare you.

Not Freddy-Kruger-Walking-Dead-Frankenstein's-monster-Friday-night-horror- movie-scare you, but dig-into-your-bones-and-reach-in-and-make-you-face-the- truth-about-yourself scare you.

We've done our best to tame God.  We've tamed church.  We've tamed the sacraments.  What happens to us by God through church, through the sacraments and through our formation should make us shake in our boots.

Shiphrah and Puah, as well as many other Biblical folks knew something we often forget.  God won't be tamed.  God reaches down and grabs us and molds us and uses us and creates new creatures out of us even when we forget to fear.

And yet at the same time, God tells us not to be afraid.  It is one of the paradoxes that keeps the dance of faith moving.

Because in the end, these women, by their fear of God, were not afraid.  They made a bold and courageous act that defied a tyrant and set God's blessing of the world outward even more.

God of power and might, remind us not to take for granted your work in our lives.  Move us to not stay still and satisfied or to be afraid of this world, but always looking outward to where you would have us go next.  Amen.

Taking a short break

I slept in this morning - something I rarely if ever do.  Mostly I did today because I haven't really been sleeping well and today the choice between staying in bed and blogging was won out by staying in bed.

As part of that, I've been feeling a bit nudged to take a bit of a break.  Life has been hectic lately and not in a happy way.  I've got two people who are near and dear to me that are very ill and in the hospital.  One is my aunt - who for all intents and purposes was a mother figure to me for my first years of life.  She's very important to me, and I always think of her on Mother's Day.  Yesterday on Mother's Day, I couldn't even talk to her as she is in isolation.

In addition, the dad of one of my very best friends is in the hospital in Texas.  He's got congenital heart disease and the prognosis is not sounding good.  

It is hard to be so far away from both my aunt and my friend and her family at a time like this, so I've been praying from afar and hoping that I am able to be with both my family and my friend and her family as soon as I am able.

Work is also busy right now with lots of other writing I'm doing, and I am getting ready to leave for vacation next week.  I'll get to see my dad who I haven't seen in a year, which is a bright spot on my horizon!

So, while I try to wrap up things and wait to hear news of beloved family and friends, I am going to take a break from the blog.  I will plan on returning the day after Memorial Day, if all things go as hoped.

And when I do, now that we've wrapped up our characters in Genesis, I'll being looking at some characters in Exodus.

Peace!!!

Joseph

Genesis 45:1-15

New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, “Send everyone away from me.” So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence.

Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come closer to me.” And they came closer. He said, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves, because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life. For the famine has been in the land these two years; and there are five more years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvest. God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth, and to keep alive for you many survivors. So it was not you who sent me here, but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, ‘Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me, do not delay. You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. I will provide for you there—since there are five more years of famine to come—so that you and your household, and all that you have, will not come to poverty.’ And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. You must tell my father how greatly I am honored in Egypt, and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.” Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them; and after that his brothers talked with him.

Is there anything better than a reunion story?

Is there anything better than a forgiveness story?

We don't get much of Joseph's brothers reaction here, but I can guess at the total amazement.  What did they feel?

Surprise?  Shame?  Sorrow?  Joy?

All of those things at once most likely.

And Joseph...what did he feel?

Not all stories of reunion and forgiveness end with such a grand "aha" moment: with seeing so clearly God's hand playing its part in working all things out for a reason.  With taking such a cruel act - selling a brother into slavery - and turning it into a blessing: a family being pulled out of poverty as a result.

Most stories of broken relationships seem to take twisted paths that lead into dark turns and alleys.  Sometimes even forgiveness doesn't seem to heal all, and often, questions of where God is in the brokenness, stay on lips for years.

Sometimes forgiveness doesn't mean reunion. 

Sometimes it simply means letting go.

Sometimes a relationship can only be healed by being separate.  

It's a cliche to say forgiveness is hard, but then most cliches are cliches for a reason - the truth is there so obviously.  Forgiveness IS hard.

And forgiveness takes many forms.  But in all of its forms, at the center of it is healing. It may mean healing the relationship and bringing people back together.

But it may also mean healing wounds in self that mean keeping a relationship at arms length: an alcoholic who has wounded you but still drinks or an abuser who is still violent, you may find yourself able to forgive, but that forgiveness may mean letting go rather than reuniting.

Whatever the case, forgiveness is a process.  And it is one that benefits from the strength of community.  In all the times in my life where I've had to forgive something hard or serious or seemingly impossible, it came with the strength of those behind me.  A community of people, and sometimes individuals, helping me along, giving me grounding and being there to hold me up when things felt to difficult.  

A community of faith can be those people.  A therapist.  A spiritual director.  A pastor.  A friend.  Or even best, all of the above.  Forgiveness is a journey.  It took Joseph down many wild and wonderful paths.  It can take you somewhere too!

God of mercy, help me to forgive when I find it impossible. Give the strength of people behind me to help me on the path to forgiveness. And help me to know when forgiveness means reunion and when it means letting go.  Amen.