Process & Faith: 24 August 2008

Lectionary Commentary

See also: [2005] [2002]

Exodus 3:1-15
Psalm 105: 1-6, 23-26, 45c
Romans 12:9-21
Matthew 16:21-28

Among rabbinical scholars, the question was once raised, “why was the blaze burning, but not consumed?” After much theological argumentation, one rabbi noted, “the bush burned and was not consumed so that one day, as he walked by, Moses would finally notice it?” Today’s readings are about the varieties of self-awareness necessary for the spiritual journey – noticing God’s presence in the everyday and discovering God’s vision for your life; noticing what it means to follow Jesus in dealing with challenging interpersonal situations; noticing God’s presence in suffering and personal growth.

In the telescoped passage from Exodus 3, Moses encounters the angel of God, and the God of his parents, on his way to work. How many times had he passed by this blazing bush before he truly saw it? This theophany, or divine encounter, awakens Moses to his vocation and to the awareness and relationship with the God who will deliver Moses’ people.

In this brief, but life-transforming, narrative, we learn much about the God of the Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. This God experiences of the suffering of the world and is touched by the cries of the people. The God that Moses encounters is the embodiment of what Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel describes as the “pathos” of God. In contrast to apathetic, unfeeling deities, who have chosen the course of the world without our input, the God of Moses is touched by pain and moved to action. Described by John Cobb and David Griffin as “creative-responsive love,” the God that Moses encounters is changed by what God experiences. God so loves the people of Israel and – I believe all people – seeks a solution by calling on a most unexpected leader, Moses, raised in Egyptian royalty, on the run for killing a fellow Israelite, and plagued by a speech impediment.

The God who calls can’t be pinned down theologically or geographically. This God is described by the words “I am who I am,” “I am what I am,” “I will be what I will be.” Like the wind, this God is lively, protean, mysterious, moving through all times and places. Faithful and unswerving in caring for the Israelites, this God is also agile in responding to their cries in Egypt and to their later infidelity.

This God reveals both breath and fire – gentleness and wildness, serenity and adventure – and calls us to be both contemplative and active in response to the God we follow.
Moses’ encounter is an inspiration to seek God in the ordinary moments, recognizing that such moments are always God-filled and that in the midst of the ordinary, we – like Moses – may be called to do extraordinary things.

As I ponder the encounter of God and Moses, I am reminded of spiritual guide Gerald May’s description of the spiritual path in his Awakened Heart in terms of pausing, noticing, opening, yielding and stretching, and responding. Moses finally pauses to notice a burning bush and discovers he is on holy ground. Responding to God within the fiery bush calls him to open to the mystery and then follow God’s call to a holy adventure. Could God be calling persons in our congregations amid the ordinary activities of life? What unlikely person is God calling up as you preach your sermon? Will we pause enough to see our own “burning bush?” This is a challenge to busy pastors as well as to their parishioners. [Katherine Gould Epperly and I have written about how pastors can experience God in the midst of the many tasks of pastoral ministry in our upcoming books, The Four Seasons of Ministry: A Harvest of Righteousnes (Alban) and Feeding the Fire: Avoiding Clergy Burnout (Pilgrim). The final book of this trilogy, Practicing the Presence of God in Ministry will be released in 2009 by Alban.]

Matthew 16 invites us to recognize the relationship between suffering and stature. Jesus rebukes Peter for his failure to see that Jesus’ vocation involves suffering as well as glory. While Jesus may not have known the exact nature of the suffering that lay ahead for him, surely he knew, as did Martin Luther King as he pondered his journey to Memphis, that Passover in Jerusalem would be a time of conflict and threat. Jesus did not wish to die, but he knew that there was a cost, even death on a cross, to being faithful to God’s cause.

His words, “for those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it,” not only relate to the possibility of arrest and martyrdom for his first followers, but reveal his own willingness to suffer for God’s greater vision. As I read this passage, I am reminded of Whitehead’s comment that peace is the gift of largeness of self in which the good of the self is identified with the good of the whole. Indeed, God’s vision for each moment is for the beauty of the present and the beauty of the world beyond each present moment. Opening to God’s vision awakens us to our role in transforming the world beyond ourselves.

When we let go of the small “self,” we awaken to the grandeur of the Greater Self, the Divine, in whom we live and move and have our being. We see our lives, then, not as matter of holding to what we have but of being our gift to God. As we enlarge our vision to include other humans, the non-human world, and the planet, we claim our role as God’s partners in healing the world and present our lives as a “living sacrifice,” contributing to the beauty of God’s experience of the world. In this pluralistic age, Christians can see themselves not only as “little Christs,” embodying the “mind of Christ,” but also as “bodhisattvas” and “mahatmas,” great-spirited beings, committed to the wholeness of creation.

Romans 12:9-21 presents a pathway to spiritual stature. Followers of the way are called to be aware of the impact of their commitments in shaping their character and the well-being of those around them. Character matters in the Christian path as we live by virtues such as love, hope, patience, generosity, and hospitality. We are called to persons who bless one another, who bestow on each other God’s wholeness. We rejoice with the joyful and weep with the sorrowful, knowing that we are all joined in the body of Christ, extending beyond the church to embrace the whole earth. In the spirit of the Sermon on the Mount, we are called to bless our enemies, surprising them so much by acts of reconciliation that in their disorientation they also are transformed. Our task is to seek reconciliation and leave judgment to God, who saves what can be saved in our lives and in the lives of our enemies.

Perhaps, the key words this Sunday are “theophany” and “awareness.” In recognize that God is here in all things, we begin to see all things as “icons” of the divine, revealing God in all of God’s varied, albeit sometimes difficult and painful disguises. Such awareness calls us to robust hospitality, but also, as Moses’ call reveals, passionate care and justice-seeking for the oppressed. Sharing in God’s pain opens our hearts to the pain of the earth, but it may also strengthen our will to fight oppression, challenge war making, defend the vulnerable, and confront oppressors. With Moses, we may discover that in growing in stature, we also grow in courage, find a “backbone” and discover a willingness to suffer even as we confront. The pain of others, as we grow in stature, does not demoralize us or desensitize us, but inspires us to comfort and to liberate as God’s partners in transforming the world.

Bruce Epperly is professor of practical theology and director of continuing education at Lancaster Theological Seminary. He is author of fifteen books, including a response to The Purpose Driven Life, the forthcoming Holy Adventure: Forty-One Days of Audacious Living (Upper Room Press).

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