Between a Rock and a Hard Place

There are always times in our lives when we feel trapped. We don't want to stay where we are, but we don't know which way to turn. The Israelites experienced that when they stood on the shore of the Red Sea with the Egyptian army on the hills behind them. How in the world could they get out of such a situation? They had no answers -- but God did. This sermon reminds us that God can still get us out of situations like that!

So there were the Israelites, standing on the shore of the Red Sea. They couldn’t go any further; they were blocked by the massive body of water that sat in their way. And there were the Egyptians, positioned on the hills behind them, waiting for the signal to swoop down and massacre the whole bunch of them. Their escape from Egypt that had begun so miraculously and seemed so promising was now threatening to end in disaster. They were, as we might say, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Have you ever been in a situation like that? Sure you have. We all have. I know that I have. You can’t go forward, you can’t go back, and you can’t stay where you are. It’s the kind of situation that puts a “deer in the headlights” look on your face. We want to jump out of the way, but we don’t even know which way to jump. What exactly do we do when we’re caught between a rock and a hard place? Well, there are several answers to that question; and most of them are bad ones. Some people try to go back the way they came. Like a badly beaten army, they sound the call to retreat; and they try to run away to a time that seems to be safer. But we can’t go back, as much as we might want to. The Israelites thought that they wanted to do that – to go back to Egypt – but they didn’t really want to do that. What they wanted to do was to escape Pharaoh’s army, not go back to Egypt as slaves under Pharaoh’s thumb! Other people try to force their way ahead, even if that way has a big “Road Closed” sign hanging over it. That doesn’t work, either. If you try to go through a “Road Closed” sign, you end up running off the road altogether. You might even fall into a big hole where the road has been washed away! No, forcing your way ahead isn’t a good idea, either.  Maybe the worst answer of all is sitting down and giving up. When you’re caught between a rock and a hard place – when you can’t go forward and you can’t go back – sitting down and giving up is a tempting option. If you give up, you get to complain about how unfair life is, and how you aren’t responsible for what happens to you, and how much better other people have it than you do. But in the end, giving up is the one option that is absolutely guaranteed to get you nowhere! You can’t make any progress when you’re sitting on your backside complaining.

So… what are we supposed to do when we’re caught between a rock and a hard place? If we can’t go forward and we can’t go back and we aren’t ready to give up, what option is left to us? Moses had an answer for that, when the Israelites lost all hope and decided that “It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert.” “Don’t be afraid,” Moses told them. “Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Lord will fight for you; and you need only to be still.” And, of course, God did just that. We all know the story of how the Red Sea divided, right down to its sandy bottom. The Israelites walked across that sand to safety, right between two huge walls of water, one on their right and one on their left. But when the Egyptian army tried to follow them, their chariot wheels were clogged with wet sand, so that their progress was slow. Some of their chariot wheels completely fell off so that they couldn’t make any progress at all. They finally realized that the God of the Israelites was working on their behalf; but by the time that the Egyptians turned back, it was too late. The Red Sea water crashed back into its place in a mighty flood, sweeping the Egyptians away by its power. No one Egyptian escaped; but not one Israelite was harmed. Indeed, God did fight for the Israelites when they had given up all hope.

God still fights for us, you know, even when we have given up all hope. When we are caught between a rock and a hard place – when we can’t go forward, and we can’t go back, and we can’t stay where we are – that is the time when we most need to trust God to show us the way. God can always see a way out, when we can’t see anything but our own problems. God knows things that we don’t know; and God has power that we don’t have. Why, God is able to provide options for us that we never even dreamed of. The Israelites certainly never imagined that God could provide a dry road for them right through the middle of the sea! We can’t imagine what God can do on our behalf, either. But we need to trust that God will do something on our behalf. I have a sign titled “Memo from God” that is posted right above my work desk at home. This is what it says: “I am God. Today I will be handling all of your problems. Please remember that I do not need any help. If life happens to deliver a situation to you that you cannot handle, do not attempt to resolve it. Kindly put it in the box labeled ‘Something for God to Do’, and I will resolve the situation in my own way and in my own time.” Is that a reminder that you need to hear? A lot of people do.

Now, that doesn’t mean that we should sit down and do nothing. But it does mean that when we’re caught between a rock and a hard place, we should trust that God will help us to handle the situation. When we can’t go forward, we can’t go backwards, and we can’t stay where we are, God has promised us to show us the way out. My mother used to say that “God never shuts a door without opening a window.” When the door ahead of us is tightly closed, maybe we should pray hard, and then look for a window that’s about to open. We frequently miss that window, because we're so focused on the problems in front of us that we don't see the solution that creeps in behind us and taps us on the shoulder.

That’s what happened to Quentin. Quentin was married to Sharon, who was the love of his life. They had a beautiful family – five wonderful children – and Quentin worked as a high school teacher and coach, a job that he loved. Their lives seemed to be perfect. Then, when their youngest child was only a year old, Sharon was diagnosed with ALS – Lou Gehrig’s Disease. Without any warning, Quentin found himself caught between a rock and a hard place.

For those of you who may not be familiar with it, Lou Gehrig’s Disease is a progressive degeneration of the nerve cells in the body. It begins with muscle weakness and continues, in the end stages, to complete paralysis. Folks who suffer from it eventually need around-the-clock care, and the equipment required to keep them healthy is very costly. Most of its victims are eventually placed in a nursing home, because to care for them at home is physically and emotionally draining. That’s what Quentin was advised. “Put your wife in a nursing home, because you won’t be able to care for her.” But Sharon was the love of Quentin’s life, and he resolved to keep her at home no matter what. He had promised to care for her in sickness and in health, and by golly, that’s exactly what he intended to do! So Quentin’s life between a rock and a hard place began. He got up every morning before the sun rose to get the children up and dressed and out the door by 7:00 a.m. After a full day of teaching and coaching, he returned home to care for Sharon and the children. He got dinner, did the dishes, helped the children with their homework, gave them their baths, did the laundry, and then collapsed into bed. Every night he would cry himself to sleep and pray for help.

Then one day, Leo, a fellow teacher asked him, “How is Sharon doing? Do you need any help?” “Oh, no,” Quentin replied, “we’re fine.” That night, as Quentin began his daily prayer, he heard God speaking loud and clear. God said something like this. “Who do you think you were talking to this morning? Here you are asking me for help again, and I just sent Leo to give you that help!” When Quentin went to school the next day, he found Leo and told him the truth. He was exhausted and overwhelmed; and things weren’t getting any better. So Leo and his wife gathered a group of volunteers. They cleaned the house, cooked dinner, did laundry, bathed children, and helped with homework. The sicker Sharon got, the more tasks they took over. When Sharon’s condition became so bad that she required specialized medical equipment to keep her alive, they even raised the funds to buy that equipment after the government denied their requests for help. Every year since, they have raised the money to pay for her care, which eventually was more than $70,000 a year.

Sharon survived to see all five children graduate from high school, two graduate from college, and one get married. For more than 20 years, scores of people contributed time and money to keep Sharon alive and in her home – and to keep her family afloat, together, and healthy. Over the years, people have asked Quentin whether he ever prayed for a miracle. He always says the same thing. “I did pray for a miracle; and God sent one. All the wonderful people who answered my call for help – they are my miracle.”

Are you between a rock and a hard place right now? Remember what Moses said: “Don’t be afraid. The Lord will fight for you.” Keep praying… and keep trusting… and be alert. God’s help may not come in the way that you expect it; but God will help. After all, if God can part a sea, lead an entire people to safety, and eliminate a whole army, God can do the same thing for you!

Making a Statement

The story of the first Passover is one of the most important stories of the Old Testament for our Jewish brothers and sisters. I believe that it is equally important for us. Why? Because of the response that it asks of us as the people of God. Read my sermon and see if you agree with me.

If someone asked you, “What is the foundational story in the Old Testament?” what would you say? In other words, what is the story that is the basis for all the others? Is it Moses meeting God in the burning bush? Is it Jacob wrestling with God and receiving the name “Israel” as he travels to face his brother Esau? Is it Abraham responding to God’s call to leave his home and his family in search of a land that is promised to his descendents? Those are all important stories to our Christian faith tradition, and to our Jewish brothers and sisters, as well. But there is another story that, at least in my opinion, is the foundational story for the people of God. It’s the story that you just heard a few minutes ago – the story of the first Passover.

The whole story is rather long. It takes nearly 2 chapters in the book of Exodus to tell all of it (Exodus 11:1 – 12:42). The part that you just heard (Exodus 12:1-14) is the heart of the story: the instructions that God gave to the Hebrews before he sent one final plague on the Egyptians. God told the Hebrews to slaughter a lamb and to smear its blood on the sides and the tops of the doorposts of their houses. The firstborn sons of all the Egyptian families would be killed; but the children of the Hebrews would be spared. The angel of death would “pass over” their homes because the blood would protect them. That’s exactly what happened; and that very night, Pharaoh let the Hebrew slaves go free. If we read a little farther (Exodus 12:30-32), we learn that “…there was loud wailing in Egypt, for there was not a house without someone dead. During the night Pharaoh summoned Moses and Aaron and said, ‘Up! Leave my people, you and the Israelites! Take your flocks and herds… and go!’” The Hebrews left so quickly, in fact, that they didn’t even have time for their bread to rise. That’s why Passover is also called the Feast of Unleavened Bread. The flat bread – the matzoh – reminds them of how quickly they left Egypt when Pharaoh finally allowed them to go.

It’s a great story, full of drama. HBO could probably make a miniseries out of it; and if they called it Passover Blood they would probably get lots of viewers. But why do I say that it’s the foundational story of our faith? It’s not the first story of God’s grace towards his people; and it’s certainly not the last. Why am I choosing this one story for special recognition? For the answer, let me remind you what has happened to the Hebrews up to this time. When God called to Moses out of the burning bush, the Hebrews were slaves in Egypt. Moses’ job was to go to Pharaoh and tell him to let those slaves go free. You all know how that turned out. Pharaoh was unimpressed, to say the least. In fact, he made the lives of the Hebrews even harder by taking away the straw that they needed to make bricks. So God sent plagues on Egypt – flies and boils and hail and locusts. Darkness settled over the land for three days; and the Egyptian livestock all died. But none of these things happened to the Hebrews! They sailed through all the plagues without even a hair of their heads getting mussed up. Only the Egyptians suffered from Pharaoh’s arrogance.

Now, think about this for a moment. God protected the Hebrews during the first nine plagues.  Why didn’t God automatically protect them during the tenth? Why did the Hebrews need to smear lambs’ blood on their doorposts in order to escape that last plague? Did God suddenly suffer from amnesia and need to be reminded which families were Egyptian and which ones were Hebrew? Maybe the answer is not in God’s ability to distinguish Egyptian from Hebrew, but in the people’s willingness to claim their identity as God’s people. If we start at the first chapter of the Bible and read all the way through Genesis and Exodus up to this story, we’ll find that this is the very first time that God has asked something of an entire people. Oh, Genesis is full of people’s responses to God; but they were all individual responses. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob were all called by God, but they were called as individuals. Here, in this story of the first Passover, God called a whole group of people. God’s instructions were for the entire Hebrew nation: “If you want to survive the last plague, you have to make a statement. You have to smear lamb’s blood on your doorposts.” That’s a pretty public statement, wouldn’t you say? All the Egyptians who were living on Pyramid Street would see that the house of their Hebrew neighbors had bloody doorposts! You can’t miss something like that. Why, that would be like overlooking a house decorated with Christmas lights that are blinking on and off in time to “The Little Drummer Boy.” When the Hebrews followed God’s orders and smeared that blood all over their doors, it was a public statement for everyone to see that they were claiming their identity as people of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. “If you want to escape that final plague,” said God, “you have to tell people who you are.”

Sometimes we need to make statements like that, too. We assume that everyone knows that we are Christians; but they don’t, not by a long shot. Sometimes we need to remind them of our own identity. We tell them all kinds of other things. We fly American flags to tell them that we’re proud to be citizens of our country. We put decorative wreaths on our front doors and welcome mats on our porches to tell the neighbors that they’re welcome to come and visit us. We turn on our porch lights on Trick or Treat night to tell the costumed children that we have Halloween treats for them. But what do we do to tell our neighbors that we’re Christians? Our houses usually look the same as all the others in the neighborhood. Now, I’m not saying that we should put a twenty-foot cross in the front yard and put a spotlight on it at night. But would it hurt to set out a manger scene at Christmas time so that Santa Claus and the eight plastic reindeer that dance all the way across the front yard have some company?

I suspect that part of our discomfort at making public statements about our faith is that many of us see our faith as a private affair. We aren’t interested in having other people force their faith on us; and in return, we don’t want to force our faith on them. Going public with our Christianity conjures up images of people who appear at the front door and want to give us Bibles and pamphlets and draw us into all kinds of discussions that, quite frankly, we’d rather not have. Is there a way to make a statement about our faith without being obnoxious about it? Can we claim our identity as God’s people without being Bible thumpers? Sure, we can! It’s as easy as just slipping a few extra comments into our everyday conversations. Imagine that it’s mid-December, and you’re in line at WalMart with several toys that you’ve bought for a family from the angel tree at our church. The clerk who checks you out comments, “It looks like someone is going to have a very Merry Christmas!” You could just smile and say, “Gee, I hope so!” But what might happen if you replied, “Yes, these are for a family that our church is sponsoring. We want to share our joy with them and make sure that their children have gifts under the tree on Christmas morning.” That kind of response isn’t offensive, and it leaves no doubt as to where your faith lies.

Are we ready to claim our identity as Christians? We don’t need to smear lamb’s blood on our doorposts; but God still calls us to make a public statement that we are a part of the people of God. I challenge each one of you to do just that during the coming week! Throw in an extra comment here and there. Explain why you’re doing what you’re doing. Claim your identity as one of God’s people! Who knows; it may turn out to be the most important thing that you say all week.

Drawn Out

The story of baby Moses seems to be long ago and far away when we read it. What could be more foreign than the reeds along the Nile River, and a baby set afloat in a basket? Actually, Moses' story is our story, too; and this sermon may help you to see the connection!

Names are important. They aren’t just labels, stuck on us willy-nilly. No, our names tell us who we are and remind us of the meanings that our lives have! Your own name probably has a meaning attached to it. Is your name the same as a beloved ancestor? (My name is one like that.) Or your name might be the name of someone else who was important to your parents – a close friend, or a mentor. Or it might even point to a bigger truth that was important to your family. Names like Grace, Faith, and Hope connect us not just to each other, but to our God, as well.

Baby Moses had a name that had a special meaning to his mother. The biblical text even tells us what that meaning was. “Moses” (“Moshe” in Hebrew) means “drawn out,” because Moses was “drawn out” of the waters of the Nile River when he was rescued by the Princess of Egypt. That was one of the most important memories that Moses’ mother cherished. Being “drawn out” of the Nile was what saved Moses’ life when he was only three months old and in danger of being killed by one of Pharaoh’s men.

I imagine that Moses’ mother smiled to herself whenever she remembered that day (Exodus 2:1-10). Pharaoh had given orders that all Hebrew baby boys were to be thrown into the Nile River as soon as they were born. When baby Moses was born, his mother could only hide him for three months. And then, she put her baby boy exactly where Pharaoh had told her to put him – into the Nile River! Pharaoh, of course, had meant for the Nile to be the death of that baby; but being put into the Nile was what saved his life in the end. Little Moses was soon floating safely in the river with his sister watching over him, waiting to be rescued by a sympathetic Egyptian woman. That woman turned out to be none other than Pharaoh’s daughter herself. Isn’t the irony wonderful? Moses was “drawn out” of the river by the daughter of the man who had commanded that he be killed.

But the meaning of Moses’ name goes a lot deeper than just the sympathetic rescue of one baby boy. If we read the Hebrew words that are used to tell the story, we catch a glimpse of a larger symbolism to the name “Moses.” What kind of a container did Moses’ mother use to keep him safe while he was floating among the reeds of the river? Why, a basket, of course. We all know that. But the Hebrew word for the container that held little Moses is actually “tevah.” That means “ark,” and the word “tevah” is used in only one other story in the whole Hebrew Bible – the story of Noah! God tells Noah to build a “tevah” – an ark – to save him, his whole family, and all the world’s animals from the flood that was about to come. By building a “tevah,” Noah saved the whole human race from annihilation.

Is the author of this story in Exodus trying to say something like that about Moses? Does the “tevah” that holds baby Moses also preserve someone who will save a whole race? Of course, it does! That baby floating among the reeds of the Nile River in his ark was destined to save the entire Hebrew nation, although they didn’t know it at the time. When that Egyptian princess drew Moses out of the water, she drew out the person God planned to use to rescue all of God’s people! What better name than “Moses” to remember his escape from death by being “drawn out” of the Nile?

But the symbolism of the name “Drawn Out” is even deeper than remembering the rescue of a baby who will save his people. The name “Moses” speaks to the entire human condition of difficulties, despair, and hope. To understand why that is, we first need to investigate how the writers of the Old Testament felt about water.

Water is necessary for life – and no one knew that better than the Old Testament writers who lived in the arid climate of the Middle East. If the winter rains didn’t fall, the crops didn’t grow, and starvation was a real possibility. But too much water… that wasn’t good, either. Too much water brought flooding and disease. In Israelite legend, water was always a little bit dangerous. The Mediterranean Sea was a place of dragons and demons where the chaos monster lived, the monster that only God could control. No, it was never a good idea to go too close to the water, because it was a dangerous place! And so, “water” – the water of rivers and lakes, and especially the water of the sea – became associated with danger. Land was a safe place. It was solid and structured. You can stand on land and feel secure. But not water. Water was the place of chaos.

Let’s apply those insights to the story of Baby Moses who was “drawn out” of the Nile River. If water is a place of danger and chaos, then the picture of Baby Moses floating on the Nile River in his little ark is frightening. Dangers lurked all around him in the river – unexpected waves, big fish, crocodiles. And just like baby Moses, we all live surrounded by threats. Unexpected violence seems to be the norm in our world today, whether it comes from a tornado, an earthquake, or a terrorist group. The little arks in which we travel are sturdy and have been built with hands of love, but they carry us through treacherous waters.  There is always the possibility that our boats will tip over and we will drown in the water on which we float.

But we don’t have to stay there, floating forever at the mercy of the Nile River and threatened by its dangers. We, like Moses, have been “drawn out” – drawn out of the waters of chaos by One who is all too ready to rescue us. Moses may have been drawn out of the Nile River by a Princess of Egypt; but we have been rescued from the waters by the Prince of the Universe itself – Jesus Christ. He is the one who draws us out as we are tossed about on the waters of chaos and are about to sink. Why, we could all claim the name “Moses,” because we have all been “drawn out” of the water by the love of God and the grace of Jesus Christ!

And we have something else in common with Moses, the one who was “drawn out” of the river. Moses may have been rescued by a princess, but he wasn’t destined for ease and comfort. No, Moses was destined to save his people – to lead them to the Promised Land through forty years of dust and sweat and work. Just like Moses, God draws us out of the water not for privilege, but for service. God draws us out of the water with the intention of molding us into people who will go bravely to Pharaoh and demand with God’s authority, “Let my people go!” When the chaos of life threatens to overcome us – to tip our little boats and plop us right in the middle of the dangerous river – that’s when we should remember that God will draw us out of the water. And when the chaos of the world around us seems too big and too complicated to ever be able to solve, that’s when we should remember that God is, right now, drawing someone out of the water who will go about doing his work, fighting greed and violence and oppression and evil.

“Moses”: “Drawn out.” My goodness, what a marvelous name! And what a wonderful work that our God does for us, drawing us out of the waters of danger and chaos to stand on solid ground; even while God is drawing others out of the dangerous waters, as well. Yes, indeed, “Moses” is our name, too. And thanks be to God that it is!

 

Resisting Pharaoh

The world these days seems to be full of tyrants, dictators, and terrorists. And thus it has always been. When the book of Exodus begins, the tyrant of the day was Pharaoh, who was so threatened by the Hebrews that he began a program of genocide against them. All newborn Hebrew baby boys were to be killed. But not everyone went along with his murderous program. Two brave women resisted Pharaoh; and brave people all over the world still resist our modern-day Pharaohs. Maybe this sermon will encourage you to join them.

Pharaoh. He’s a bad egg, isn’t he? We know what to do when we hear the name “Pharaoh.” We boo, and we hiss, and we give the “thumbs-down” sign. Of all the characters that we meet in the Bible, Pharaoh is surely one of the most evil. In fact, throughout the biblical text, the title “Pharaoh” becomes a symbol for oppression and misused power.

There are lots of “Pharaohs” in the Bible. The king of Assyria who conquered the northern kingdom of Israel in 720 BC and deported all of its inhabitants was one of them. So was King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon 250 years later. He conquered the southern kingdom of Judah in 587 BC, destroyed the Temple, and burned Jerusalem to the ground. And, of course, in the New Testament, we hear about the evil King Herod. In an effort to get rid of any competition for the title “King of the Jews,” Herod ordered that all the boy babies who lived in Bethlehem were to be killed. We hear about all kinds of Pharaohs in the stories that the Bible tells.

I would be delighted if I could tell you that Pharaoh has disappeared into the mists of the past. But, of course, I can’t. There are still plenty of pharaohs around today. Vladimir Putin of Russia certainly qualifies for that title. Ask any family member of one of the passengers on Malaysia Flight 17 that was shot down over Ukraine by a Russian surface-to-air missile. Was Putin involved? Probably. Another modern pharaoh is the group Boko Haram. Boko Haram is the terrorist organization that abducted over 200 schoolgirls in Nigeria just a few months ago, forcing them to convert to Islam and selling them as brides, since – in their worldview – girls are only fit to marry and bear children. They should never be educated. Over the past 12 years, Boko Haram has been blamed for over 10,000 abductions and deaths in the African countries of Nigeria, Cameroon, and Niger. And, of course, we can’t forget ISIS, the army of Islamic fundamentalists who formerly called themselves “Al-Qaeda in Iraq.” They were actually expelled from Al-Qaeda because of their brutality! Their goal is to exterminate all non-Muslims and to establish an Islamic state extending across Turkey, Syria, and Iraq; and they have gained control of a significant amount of territory in the Middle East over the past few months. Oh, yes, Pharaoh is still alive and well, even though he may be called by other names these days.

But although Pharaoh strikes terror into the hearts of most of us, there are always a few who are willing to resist him. These brave souls refuse to be a part of persecution and oppression. In this morning’s story (Exodus 1:1-22), those resisters were two Hebrew midwives named Shiphrah and Puah. You can always tell when someone in a biblical story is important, because the most important people have names. These two don’t look especially important. After all, they are women, and women weren’t considered to be important at all. But these women are the most important people in this story; because they’re the only two who are willing to resist Pharaoh’s persecution of the enslaved Hebrews. “Kill all the baby boys!” commands Pharaoh; and these two brave midwives ignore his order completely. When Pharaoh calls them on the carpet for their actions, they lie through their teeth without even missing a beat. “Why, those Hebrew women are so healthy,” they say, “that we can’t even get there in time to help with the births! They whisk those babies away and we never even get to see them!” And Pharaoh buys it, hook, line, and sinker. Their actions set the stage for the birth of a special Hebrew baby who is hidden in the bulrushes of the Nile by his mother, and rescued by no less than the Princess of Egypt herself. But that’s next week’s story. Today, Pharaoh still has center stage.

And the Pharaohs of the world think that they always have the center stage. No one would dare to resist them, because they have all the power; and they can do whatever they want. Right? That’s what Vladimir Putin thinks, even in the face of economic sanctions from the West – that he can do whatever he wants. That’s what Boko Haram thinks. As recently as yesterday, the group killed or abducted all the men and boys in a fishing village on the shores of Lake Chad in northwest Nigeria. A witness described the scene: “They were shouting ‘Where is your pride? You people used to be warriors. Today you are all just women, not as brave as we thought.’” And that’s most certainly what ISIS thinks! After all, who is going to resist them? The Iraqi army is in a shambles; and the minority groups in Iraq aren’t armed. All those poor people can do is run away and hide before the ISIS butchers catch them.

But there are still those who resist, people who speak out against Pharaoh’s terrible oppression and persecution. The United Nations Security Council, for example, adopted a resolution just two days ago stating that it “deplores and condemns in the strongest terms the terrorist acts of ISIS, its violent extremist ideology, and its continued gross, systematic and widespread abuses of human rights and violations of international humanitarian law.” They added that those who finance, recruit or supply weapons to the insurgents might be formally sanctioned in the future. Our own United Church of Christ and its global partners have been providing food, water, trauma counseling, health kits, and cash assistance to refugees in the area that has been overrun by ISIS. Our mission funds also support Global Ministries’ closest partner in the region, the Presbyterian Church of Iraq. (You may be surprised to learn that the Presbyterian Church of Iraq was founded by one of the UCC’s predecessor churches, the Evangelical & Reformed Church.) And lest you mistakenly believe that all Muslims agree with the actions of ISIS, I found this post on the Facebook page belonging to the group Muslims for Progressive Values: “ISIS is the supposedly ‘Islamic State.’ We prefer to call them ‘International Scum.’ They have told Christians in Iraq to convert, leave, or die. We stand in solidarity with the Iraqi Christians.” I responded to that post, thanking the person who posted it for their compassion to Christians in the Middle East; and I received this reply: “I am a Syrian Muslim, and the majority of my friends have either posted this or made it their profile photo as part of the campaign that is called ‘We are all Christians.’ What ISIS is doing is horrifying beyond expression. We feel helpless, and Facebook campaigns are the least we can do in the face of this monstrosity. I wish I could do more. I pray for peace, and I believe all people who truly know God’s love do the same, regardless of their religion.”

Can Pharaoh really do whatever he wants? Perhaps. It certainly looks that way at first glance. The Pharaohs of the world run roughshod over anyone who stands in their way. But I am very sure that right now, in all kinds of places all around the world, in Russia and in Africa and in the Middle East, there are thousands of Shiphrahs and Puahs quietly opposing them – common people, ordinary folks who simply will not stand by and tolerate persecution and oppression. Jesus talked about this kind of situation once. He said that God’s kingdom of peace and love grows from beginnings as tiny as a mustard seed. Do you remember that parable? Jesus told us that a mustard seed is so little and looks so useless that some people throw it out with the trash! But when it takes root, it grows until it is so big that it shelters birds in its branches and animals in its shade. From tiny beginnings emerge astonishing outcomes!

So don’t be discouraged by Pharaoh and by his evil. In the end, he will be defeated, brought down by his own greed and arrogance. Don’t be discouraged, because God has always been on the side of the persecuted and the oppressed, and that’s where God is today! Don’t be discouraged, because into the life of every Pharaoh will eventually come a Moses, someone who is called by God to lead the people out of the shadows of captivity into the light of freedom. What does the spiritual say? “Oh, let us all from bondage flee, and let us all in Christ be free.” Let my people go, Pharaoh! You won’t win in the end! Thank God that it is so.

Dreams and Disappointments

We all know the story of how Jacob was tricked by his uncle Laban (Genesis 29:16-30). When he thought he was marrying his beloved Rachel, he married her sister Leah instead; and then was forced to work for 7 more years in order to marry Rachel. What if we heard this story from Leah's perspective? What would she say about it? This sermon does just that. You might be able to hear the voices of many marginalized women if you listen closely enough.

My name is Leah; and I have weak eyes. That’s all you ever hear about me – that I have "weak eyes.” Even now that I am Jacob’s wife, I am not the one who is beloved. I am the wife with “weak eyes.” If I sound bitter, it’s because I am bitter! All my life, I have taken second place to my little sister. I’m not the clever daughter, the charming daughter, the daughter who is slim and nimble like a gazelle. No, that one would be Rachel. She is all those wonderful things; while I am stupid and clumsy and can’t make decent conversation. All my life I have lived in her shadow. She has always been the favored daughter. And now she is the favored wife, as well.

Do you know my story? Certainly you know the story of my husband Jacob. You know how he came to my family to find a wife – and to get away from his brother Esau. I’m not sure exactly what happened between them – Jacob would never talk about it – but it must have been quite a disagreement. Once, when my uncle Laban asked him about Esau, he averted his eyes and didn’t really give an answer. He’s running away from something big, that’s for sure. When he first appeared at the well where we water the sheep, I had hoped that he might ask for me as his wife. After all, there are not too many men in our area who are not members of our close family; and I certainly can’t marry one of them! A stranger appearing at the well, especially a stranger who is from our extended family… I thought that one of the gods had sent him to us! But of course, he asked for my sister Rachel instead. For seven years he worked for my father in order to marry Rachel. And never once did he give me even a second glance.

Then came that awful day when Jacob was to marry my sister. My father gave a huge wedding feast to celebrate the occasion. The men ate until they could eat no more; and the wine flowed like a river during the rainy season! Soon all the men were drunk – even Jacob, the groom. My father encouraged all of them to drink their fill. When the time came for Jacob to take Rachel to his tent, my father came to the women and said to my sister, “Stay here. This is not yet your night.” Then he turned to me. “You will go with Jacob,” he said harshly. “I will never be rid of you if I do not give seize this opportunity. Jacob is so drunk that he will never know the difference. I can give Rachel to half a dozen men, but you… I’m getting rid of you tonight.”

As Jacob took me by the hand and staggered to his tent, all my dreams turned to ashes. I had dreamed of marrying a man who would love me and seek my companionship. I had dreamed of marrying a man who would cradle me in his arms and speak tenderly to me. I had dreamed of marrying a man who wouldn’t care that I was shy and clumsy, but who would love me in spite of it. Now, those dreams were dead. I knew that Jacob didn’t love me, and that he would be angry that my father had tricked him. Sure enough, when Jacob woke up in the morning and realized that his bride was not his beloved Rachel, he was angrier than any man I have ever seen. His shouting at my father could be heard for miles. When their argument was finally settled, Jacob had bought my sister Rachel for seven more years of labor; and I was just part of their bargain.

I’m sure that you have heard how disappointed Jacob was to find that he had married me instead of my sister. You must have heard about it; he has told everyone he meets about the underhanded trick that my father played on him. He talks about how his dream of marrying Rachel after seven years was thwarted. He has told everyone how his seven years of work turned into fourteen years, and how he had no choice if he wanted to marry Rachel. But the fact is that Jacob married my sister just a week after he married me. Oh, we celebrated that week of our marriage – if you can call it a celebration. Jacob dutifully took me into his tent for that week. He didn’t turn me out and send me back to my father. But I have always suspected that he tolerated me because he was afraid of losing Rachel. The two of us were a package deal – if he wanted Rachel, he had to take me, too. So at least my marriage has been secure. And I have borne Jacob six fine sons and a beautiful daughter, while Rachel has given him only one. My children certainly bring me great joy! But when I hear Jacob talk about his disappointment, it’s all I can do not to weep bitterly. Jacob was disappointed for – what – a week? After that week with me, he married Rachel; and ever since that day, I have been invisible to him. If he was disappointed, I have been disappointed much more deeply. Jacob has a wife that he loves, and who loves him in return. I will never have that. His dreams of a happy marriage may have been postponed, but they were eventually fulfilled. My dreams of a happy marriage are gone forever.

We all have dreams, don’t we? We have dreams of what we hope will happen to us and to our children. We have dreams of contentment and fulfillment – even of happiness. And then, we are disappointed. What we dream for and hope for and yearn for never happens at all. Oh, good things sometimes happen – here and there. But so often, our dreams end in disappointment. And it makes me wonder – where are the gods when our dreams turn to ashes? We sacrifice and pray, day in and day out, and sometimes it seems like all those prayers are useless! Don’t the gods care about us at all? I have overheard Jacob talk about his god, the god who accompanied him when he came to live with us. He says that this god cares about the people he watches over. He claims that this god protects his people, and is even able to bring joy out of disappointment. I have never heard of a god who could do that. Maybe it is all just idle talk. Jacob worships his god and I worship mine.

But – I had a dream last night that caused me to think again about this god of Jacob’s. In the dream, I saw my son Judah holding a royal scepter and a gold crown. He was standing next to one whose glory filled the whole world, and his descendents were so many that they stretched out behind him as far as I could see – a huge multitude of people! The glorious one spoke to me, saying, “I am the Lord, the god of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Your offspring will be like the dust of the earth, and all through your son Judah all peoples of the earth will be blessed.” As I watched, a man came out of the crowd of Judah’s descendents, took the scepter and crown from Judah’s hand, and was seated on a throne. Then I heard a great choir of voices singing: “Salvation belongs to our God, and to his Messiah! He will wipe away every tear. Mourning and pain will pass away; and he will reign forever.”

Do you suppose that’s true? Will one of the descendents of my Judah be a king – a king who can turn disappointments into joy and make dreams come true? Will he really be a savior? If that is so, then I am content. I will worship Jacob’s god, and I will trust that he is indeed watching over me and caring for me. The dreams that I had in the past are gone; but perhaps there are new dreams for me in the future. Perhaps… I can still hope.