Carrying Past and Present in our Hearts

A sermon by John Brierly McCall, D. Min.

Exodus 12:1-14

We were lucky. The storm of the century turned west, further inland, and left us with minimal damage. Our hearts ache for those who sustained much more serious damage – North Carolina, New Jersey and the substantial losses from flooding especially in Vermont.

With the storm looming last week several governors and mayors announced evacuation plans – in part to avoid the public anger following previous disasters accusing governments of under-responding. Quite literally damned if you do and damned if you don’t.

What would you take if you were faced with an evacuation order? What matters most? Certainly the envelope filled with cash stashed under the mattress. Maybe medical records, or a hand-painted tea cup from your grandmother, or the shoebox filled with photos and a lock of your child’s hair?

All day, everyday, we make decisions about what matters. Simple things, silly things really – what to eat, to drink, to wear, to worry about, to ignore. When we feel we have all the time in the world we may loll about and never make up our minds.  We know we should get our affairs in order but most of us put it off.

But if the evacuation order came today, would you know what rally matters to you or would you stand still like a deer in the headlights? Could you put whatever is most important in your pocket, backpack or briefcase… or would it take a moving van?

The children of Israel faced that same urgency, that moment of decision. Since last week’s reading about God’s call to Moses through the burning bush, the story continues as God told Moses: “…go to Pharaoh and tell him all that I am speaking to you.” Moses told God he wasn’t much of a public speaker and that Pharaoh wouldn’t listen. So God told Moses that God will speak to Moses, Moses will give the message to his brother Aaron, and Aaron, who is a good speaker, will tell Pharaoh.

Nine times God sent a message to Pharaoh to let the Israelites go, and nine times Pharaoh said no, and nine times God sent a plague – frogs, flies, gnats, locusts, thunder and hail, then darkness. Chapter 11 begins with God saying to Moses – “I will bring one more plague and then Pharaoh will let my people go… indeed, he will drive you out!” God was prepared to strike dead the first born in every household. And at the end of chapter 11 a curious turn as it says “the Lord hardened Pharaoh’s heart, and he did not let the people of Israel go out from his land.”

Talk about religion messing with politics. Here God challenges the decisions and emotions of the most powerful king of the times… and has no intention of surrender.

So, God told Moses to tell the people of Israel that each household should sacrifice a sheep and mark the doorposts and lintels of their homes with its blood so the angel of death would spare them… would pass-over. Verse {13}: “… when I see the blood I pass over you and no plague shall destroy you when I strike the land of Egypt. {14} This day shall be a day of remembrance for you. You shall celebrate it as a festival to the Lord; throughout your generations you shall observe it as a perpetual ordinance.”

At the same moment the people of the Covenant are deeply rooted in their story and tradition, and yet experiencing something brand new. They are reinvented by God’s action and Pharaoh’s final abdication. Much like the people of Libya today, fighting for the downfall of the Gaddafi regime, there was no turning back.

And so it was that Pharaoh drove out the Israelites. And to this day Jews mark the sacred festival of Passover as a day of remembrance both of slavery and freedom. And they eat unleavened bread recalling how their fled their homes in the middle of the night and there was no time to wait for the leaven to rise. The second half of Exodus tells of the wilderness experience and of God’s giving the law to God’s people through Moses, and how the nation was a nomadic people with no permanent home, and how they had to travel light and carry with them everything they needed. The Torah — tablets of stone that were carried in the ark of the covenant – always led the way.

Christian worship echoes many elements of this Passover story. The theme of sacrifice is reenacted in the Roman Catholic Eucharist, emphasizing body and blood and speaking of Jesus as the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.

In progressive Protestant congregations like ours the communion meal is a time of fellowship — a thanksgiving feast and remembrance of Jesus’ profound love.

This story may really trouble us theologically, as we read of the final plague as God sent the angel of death to visit every Egyptian home and took the life of every newborn child. It’s hard for us to understand particularly when we so clearly see God’s grace, generosity, and extravagant welcome.

I have two thoughts to offer: first, I understand these earliest books in the sacred scriptures to be a human chronicle of the family story written generations after the event. No one knows how much of this is factually true. But we do know this story is a true reminder that God’s divine will and our human desires are often in conflict. It says that if you resist God and defiantly claim your way is the better way, there are consequences.

And as you pull further from God’s will and intentions the stakes get higher, and when you will not stop and repent something finally will give, and likely that your defiance will bring pain on you and your loved ones.

Whether you’re Pharaoh or Gadhafi or the Joint Chiefs of Staff or the World Bank or Wall Street, or Bernie Madoff, or Jill Jones or John McCall, defying and ignoring what God has said is true and right is a recipe for disaster. You will not prevail and you will likely have to live through a lot of pain to learn that lesson.

Every generation makes choices with unforeseen consequences that may ultimately harm generations to come. We’re not the first people to foul our own nest and inflict pain on our own children. But we certainly have a greater capacity to damage our world than previous generations could ever imagine. God doesn’t give us a fast-pass or a get-home-free card.

Even so, as all of scripture affirms, God stands with us in our slavery, then accompanies us on our exodus and guides us in wilderness. And God rejoices with us when we reach the land of promise.