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What to Expect on Sunday |
We begin today on a journey through the story of Exodus. It’s an interesting story. Cecil B. DeMille made a blockbuster movie of the story. You might’ve seen it—a little thing called, interestingly, not "Exodus," but The Ten Commandments even though that is only part of the story. Part of the fascination with the story of Exodus is that it is the defining moment in Israel’s history. Moses is considered by most Jews to be their greatest hero and Exodus their defining story. That’s part of the fascination with the story of Exodus. But I suggest to you that another part of the fascination with the story of Exodus is that we see our own story in it. No, we probably have not done slave work in Egypt making bricks, and we’ve probably not walked on dry ground across a divided body of water, but we can—in a different time and place—identify with the issues and challenges faced by the Israelites in the story of Exodus. I think it is succinctly well-put by Michael Walser in the quote on the front of the bulletin: "What the Exodus taught…first, that wherever you live, it’s probably Egypt. Second, that there is a better place, a world more attractive, a promised land. And third, that the way to the land is through the wilderness." So, "Life in Exodus"—for the Israelites then…and for us now. Today, "Forgotten," from Exodus 1:1-14. (Read) All of us would like to make a difference with our lives, to leave a legacy, to be remembered for something good. Jane Hays would hope that 30 years of ordained ministry has meant something. The Ebmeiers, as parents of little Julia, have great hopes and expectations that their daughter will be a difference maker in her life—something like…becoming the first female President of the United States, but I have to tell you, one of the Holmes girls is going to accomplish that so she’ll have to come up with something else. All of us would hope to be remembered for something good, that our lives meant something to somebody. Yet, the reality of life in Exodus is, that is not always the case. There are moments of life in Exodus where it seems as if we are forgotten. If nothing else, time is often the enemy of our being remembered. That seems especially true in our what-have-you-done-for-me-lately society. But, the truth is, it’s been the case throughout history. For example, in 1923 the country of Japan suffered a horrific earthquake, 8.3 on the Richter scale, causing great destruction throughout Japan. Most of Tokyo was destroyed. More than 100,000 people died. One of the first nations coming to the aid of the Japanese was the United States. U.S. help was so valuable to the Japanese that they poured out their appreciation to the United States. "We will never forget you and the help you have offered," we were told. Then, of course, just a short 18 years later, the attack on Pearl Harbor took place. That’s life in Exodus. A great work remembered for just a short time, quickly forgotten. And at times, life in Exodus feels like we’ve been forgotten completely. That’s the situation for the Israelites in Egypt. You will remember in the Biblical story that Israel—a tribe of people really, not a nation, with Jacob as the tribal leader and his sons and their families making up the "tribes" of Israel—Israel comes to Egypt looking for relief from a famine that has hit the land of Canaan. Ahead of them—and unbeknownst to them—is Joseph, Jacob’s beloved son and the envy of his brothers who sold him into slavery, the vehicle which leads, eventually, to Joseph serving as second in command to the Pharaoh at that time and implements the plan that saves Egypt—and the tribe of Israel—when the famine comes to Egypt. It’s a great story which leads to this wonderful theology from Joseph, which we all should remember: To his brothers, who are petrified they’ll be victims of revenge when Joseph reveals himself, Joseph says, "You meant it for harm, but God meant it for good." Isn’t that wonderful theology? "You meant it for harm, but God meant it for good." I’m getting ahead of myself, but that is powerful theology to help one get through life in Exodus. "You meant it for harm, but God meant it for good." Sounds like the apostle Paul, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him," (Romans 8:28a). Such theology will help you get through life in Exodus. Anyway, Joseph’s standing in Egypt puts Israel in a good position. For awhile. They survive the famine; they’re given good land to live in. They flourish and prosper. They "multiply greatly." For awhile. But time marches on. Joseph dies. Pharaohs come and go…until a Pharaoh’s in place who "doesn’t know about Joseph." The good favor enjoyed by Joseph’s descendants is gone. The blessing of prosperity has now become a threat to Pharaoh and Egypt. The position of privilege becomes a position of oppression. The Israelites are forced into hard labor, slaves for the building projects of Pharaoh. And in order to cut down on their number, Pharaoh orders all male children born to the Israelites, the "Hebrew" people, to be killed. All because Joseph and all he’d done for Egypt was…forgotten. That’s life in Exodus…forgotten moments. Children grow up and, angered by some perceived slight, suddenly forget about the many nights of sleepless care given by their parents. Families get embroiled in some dispute and suddenly all the happily shared moments and connections of family are forgotten. Ministry takes place in the life of the church and is remembered for awhile, but eventually, over time it begins to fade from the collective memory of the church. Just this past Thursday during our worship planning meeting, Janet and I were arranging things on the chancel and she asked about the person whose name is shown on the cross that sits on the communion table. Fred Easly. I’m not familiar with that name. Perhaps some of you are, but I suspect many of you aren’t. Time marches on and ministry can get forgotten. Writing it down, writing a history of one’s life, or of the church can help. But the Egyptians knew their history. The Japanese certainly knew the history of their 18 years from devastating earthquake to Pearl Harbor. Somewhere in the midst of a family dispute is the collective memory of wonderful moments…but it gets forgotten in the heat of the moment; forgotten in the changing tides of politics, forgotten in the inexorable march of time. Life in the reality of Exodus means moments of being forgotten, perhaps several moments, perhaps long moments of forgotteness. But that’s not the end of the Exodus story. We’re just at the beginning. We’re in Egypt. There’s a promised land in our future, but it’s going to take a journey through wilderness to get there. But even in the forgotten experiences of our Egypts and our journeys in the wilderness, there is this universal truth—we are never forgotten by God. But I get ahead of myself—that’s the title for next week: Life in Exodus: Remembered. We are never forgotten by God and there are signs of that truth all along the way. A rainbow in the sky is a sign that God remembers. A baby baptized is another. And this table is a sign that God remembers. Life in Exodus brings forgotten moments…but we are never forgotten by God. |
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