I A M
8 . 2 8 . 1 1
R e v. B r e n t W r i g h t
B r o a d R i p p l e U M C
Exodus 3:1-15 Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro,
the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the LORD saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God. Then the LORD said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.” But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” God said to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I AM has sent me to you.’” God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The LORD, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’:
This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.
It was a long time ago now, and I remember it like it was yesterday. ...Probably best to back up a little, though. Don't worry; I won't forget to talk about the bush. Everyone asks about the bush. But first, remember where I was coming from...
I was a real hothead back then, full of fire at the injustice of the way my people were being treated. They were treated worse than the livestock. The Egyptians had started talking about my brothers and sisters like they weren't even human. 'Work the rats harder,' I'd overhear in the palace, 'or they'll take over our homeland.' 'Filthy vermin,' they called us. I was in an awkward position, of course. I was royalty. I was one of Pharaoh's grandsons. One of the ruling class. An ultimate insider. They had forgotten that I was a Hebrew; I was a member of the family and had been all my life. It was confusing to me when I first
became aware as a child, and it was more and more confusing as I grew up, that I was different from the rest of my family. As I came to understand that my difference marked me as one of the Hebrews, my confusion only grew. The Hebrews are slaves, I thought as a child, but I live in the palace. How could I be one of them?
As the years went by, I felt more and more different, more and more alienated from my own family and culture, more and more connected to the Hebrews. Watching them being treated as slaves was like being slowly killed by little reed cuts. Finally, the last straw––an arrogant guard beating an old Hebrew man. I couldn't take it anymore. I don't really remember exactly what happened; I do remember the feeling of realizing the guard was lying on the ground, motionless. Sides were chosen for good that day. I ran. I knew Pharaoh would have me killed if I was caught––as an example, sure, but behind closed doors, he never approved of having a Hebrew as a grandson. He put up with me to try to win the affection of his daughter, who pulled me out of the water and called me Moses. But now I'd given him all the reason he needed to make a brutal example of me. The Hebrew people would tremble in their sandals if Pharaoh would do that to his own
grandson!
So I ran.
I ended up in Midian, in the household of Jethro; he was a great man. He didn't care that I was from Egypt. He welcomed me into his family and gave me my beloved Zipporah. He treated me like a son––my second adopted family.
Little did I realize my blood family was calling. Now I know that the cries of my sisters and brothers in slavery in Egypt were moving our God to act. At the time, I was grateful to be a simple shepherd, tending the flocks of my father-in-law and building a family of my own. It was humble work, but I was relieved to be out of the royal household I had grown up in. It felt more like me to be tending sheep. No more functions. No more official appearances. No more speeches. No more ridiculous rules of etiquette. No more suck-ups pretending to be interested in me just to draw close to Pharaoh. I had found a real, honest, quiet life
that seemed to fit like a custom-made garment. I was thrilled to put the royal household behind me.
So that's who I was on that day: a simple shepherd who was trying to forget where I came from, trying to simply be myself. Looking back on it now, I realize I still wasn't really at home in my own skin. If I'd had any idea of what was to come, I don't know how I would have coped. I guess that's part of the goodness of God––we don't know what's to come! Otherwise, we'd turn and run the other way. Instead, I was curious and approached with wide eyes.
I was out with the sheep when one wandered off into a quiet cove among the rocks. It was when I turned the corner looking for it that the bush caught my eye. Out here in the middle of nowhere, the bush was burning, like it had been struck by lightning. And let's be real, my first thought was not, "Oh! It must be God!" It was, "Who lit that bush on fire? I thought I was alone out here!" Then my next thought was, "This is a plot to distract me while thieves drive away my sheep!" Just as I turned to dash back out toward the flock, the Voice stopped me. I'm not sure I even remember what it said, I was so startled to hear it. ...Well, hear isn't really the right word. More like I knew it. Sort of. Anyway,
something ...spoke… to me and I stopped in my tracks. All of a sudden, somehow I knew this wasn't a trick to distract me while thieves stole my sheep. I couldn't see my sheep from where I was, but I somehow knew they were fine. This was something ...beyond... I opened my ears and the ears of my soul. And I immediately realized I was on holy ground. I kicked my shoes off. The ...presence… was God. Not that I knew God then. The voice (if you could call it that; I'd call it something else if I could think of anything
better…) told me that I was in the presence of the God of my ancestors Abraham, Isaac, & Jacob. Immediately, all the stories I'd heard as a little child about how even looking at God would kill a person came flooding back. I realized this might be my end, stumbling onto the actual dwelling place of divinity. But then this awe-inspiring encounter that's beyond words had become … a conversation of sorts. Looking back on it, I wish I could
remember the specifics better, but there's no doubt that what began in intrigued, awe-struck confusion ended with a serious conversation.
Telling you about it now, I realize it's hard to imagine what I'm talking about. Heck, I still have trouble believing it myself. But I do remember that at the time, it seemed perfectly natural. And I remember feeling at home in my own skin in some deep way when God said, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob." I had never known my father, but in that moment, I knew that I had thousands of fathers, that I was a part of the people of God. That moment changed my life. I hadn't felt like I had a people, like I belonged anywhere. I had always stood apart even among both of my families. Even when I had found a family in Midian, I knew in that moment in God's presence that I had been pretending in some way. As hard as I tried to fit in, I was still a foreigner. But then, in the overwhelming awe of the bush that was burning but not, I knew
And, somehow, it came wrapped up in that calling, the calling to do the insane. In the next breath after telling me that I belonged to the people of God, God was telling me that the cries of the people had been heard and I was going to be the one who liberated them from the iron grip of my grandfather. I was stunned. My mouth was dry. My fingers and toes were tingling. I had to sit down before I fell down.
I have to go back home?
I have to go back home to tell my grandfather what to do?
I have to go back home to tell my grandfather to liberate the ones he calls rats,
the slaves the whole Egyptian economy depends on?
That's insane. No one can do that! We're talking about the most powerful human being on earth, the one who snaps his fingers and people die! We're talking about the one who is called divine by his people! And I am supposed to make him let the slaves go? Me, the convicted felon who will be arrested and sentenced to death for my crimes as soon as I set foot in Egyptian jurisdiction; I'm the one who will make the ruthless tyrant
compassionate and generous? I don't think so. It's a death sentence.
As soon as I was named a child of my fathers' God, I was called to go back home to rock the boat of the tyrant.
Forget the tyrant, my own people won't believe me! I'd have to be nuts to do this. Everyone would think I'd lost my mind, speaking on behalf of the Creator. At the very least, I had to have a name, I had to prove to the people that I had actually been talking to God, and God was willing to give me the authority of the name. So I asked, and God gave me the name of being itself. I AM. For a long time, all I could think was, What kind of a
name is that?! The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob I can wrap
my brain around. But I AM? Over time it dawned on me that the Creator of everything that is was reminding us of the source of all being and identity. I AM.
The conversation went on for a while after that. God kept reassuring me that I'd have what I needed. That I'd know what to do. That God would be doing the heavy lifting; I was to be the spokesperson. The more we talked, the more I realized that there was no way out. It was who I am that I AM was revealing to me. I could run again, but I knew that running wouldn't change anything. I could argue, I could resist, I could ignore, but what would it accomplish? And at what cost? My people were suffering under harsh bondage, and the One who could rescue them had chosen to do so through me. I could allow God to work or I could stand in the way of God's justice and redemption.
There was no way out, and in the midst of the fear, I've never felt more deeply rooted in my life. Me, the orphan foreigner who had never had a place to belong completely, had finally been given roots. I had finally been handed my self, and all of a sudden I couldn't imagine it any other way. My course was laid out before me.
The only question: would I choose to follow, to become one through whom God would work God's redemptive purpose? Would I choose to be who I am?
Looking back from so many years later, I remember the pain of so many struggles, and I occasionally have nostalgic memories of the simple life of the shepherd or even of the cursed life of royalty. But I would never trade being the one the Great I AM made me to be, pain, fear, triumph, grief, awe, joy, and all.
May you know your own name as I AM helped me to know mine.
And may we as a congregation know our name, our calling, our place in God's redemptive work, as God has helped the generations before us to take their place in God's transformation of the world.
