This page contains sermons which have been preached at Westminster Presbyterian Church in Saint Louis MO. Please understand that these sermons were meant to be heard and not read. They were written with a specific group of people in mind and the hope is that they help people think critically and lead people to live authentically in the world. Visit our Website and check out the ‘soil’ in which these sermons took root. www.westminster-stlouis.org
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Bigger Chariots Won't Save Us
WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
September 11, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Exodus 14:19-31
“Bigger Chariots Won’t Save Us”
It seems like every generation has its “do you remember when?” moment. Remember the Alamo, was the rallying cry in 1836 when America headed off to war with Mexico. Remember the Maine, was the rallying cry in 1898 when America headed to war with Spain. Remember the Lusitania was the rallying cry in 1915 when America joined the First World War in Europe. And December 7th, the day which will live in infamy, was the rallying cry when America headed into the Second World War following the attack on Pearl Harbor. Lesser known are the Gulf of Tonkin Incident, or the USS Maddox Incident, which became the rallying cry for our invasion of Vietnam. And for this generation we have, Remember 9/11. This was the rallying cry as the War on Terror began.
We are currently in the middle of the longest war this nation has ever seen. While it is no longer the top story on the evening news there are still people fighting and dying in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan and elsewhere. How did we end up here? Ten years ago there were four commercial planes hijacked with the intent of turning them into weapons, flying bombs. Two of those planes hit two towers of the world trade center and brought down three towers. One plane was flown into the Pentagon in Washington DC and one crashed in a field in Pennsylvania. Most of us know the story and can probably tell you exactly where we were when it happened. The shock, the fears, the pain, and the uncertainty; it is this and many other things that we remember on this day about 9/11.
However, one day, just like the Maine and Lusitania, these memories will no longer convey pain but only historical curiosity. And when that happens, when the memories are gone and the historians finally have access to all the information, the story will be able to be dissected with dispassionate historical accuracy. So please know that is not my intent on this day. Today we gather to remember, as best we can, and maybe help make sense of where we have come so we might have clarity for the future. As always, in order to do this, we have to go back. And today we go back to the sacred stories of our faith. We will seek to remember these stories as our stories by the virtue of our faith in Jesus Christ.
In preparing for today I looked at the scripture lessons from the lectionary, the three year cycle of readings we use to work our way through the bible. In there I came across the Exodus passage and could not walk away. It seemed there might be something of value for Christians living in a time of high militarism in a nation which struggles with its superpower status and its inability to deal with pain. One to one comparisons are never fair. After all, there is no one comparable to the terrorists which attacked innocent civilians on this day ten years ago. In fact, it is Egypt who is seeking to kill the innocent civilians, but they are a nation and not a group of outlaws, so the comparisons fail. However, it is worth considering what, if any, lessons might be contained in this story known as the parting of the Red Sea.
In the story of the Exodus we hear a lot about the slaves and oppression but we do not hear much about Egypt as a society. The only glimpse we get of the devastation brought upon that country is through the King and his advisors. In fact, if this was a modern drama each one of the former king’s advisors would be working the talk show circuit selling their book with the ‘real story,’ in its pages. Without that, we can only make guesses at what might have been going on. What we do know is that the great nation of Egypt was in ruins. This former superpower has had its economic sources attacked through horrible plagues. Food was devastated and the people were so depressed they could not even move or work. And this was before the loss of their firstborn children. So even before they have lost their children they are already asking why this has happened.
When the economy and the society is in ruin, the King does not care. That is basically how he works. Driven by greed he works the slaves harder than any of his predecessors. When they complain he makes life harder. And what does he do for the people of his country, the people of Egypt, who have little say in the decision of the King? All they know is what they are told: the Hebrew slaves are the enemy to be feared. As his society is falling apart all he can do is make life harder on the Hebrews and point to them if his own people complain. The King does have moments of clarity but they are few and far between. Each moment is short lived which leads to further devastation.
With the first born of every living creature sacrificed on the altar of the King’s greed, he finally allows the Hebrew slaves their freedom. It is a time of national grief and mourning and his greed will not rule the day. On this day the King is one of the people in their grief. On this day the King knows what his greed has cost. However, kings are not often ones for self reflection and the story does not end there.
The crossing of the Hebrews to the other side of the sea is a power story. Just as Moses is brought from death out of the Nile, the Hebrew people are brought out of certain death under the hooves and wheels of the chariots. It is a day for celebrating and remembrance. But the remembrance of this passage isn’t about a military victory or a way to rally folks to war. It is a somber moment where a mighty army is destroyed because it overreached. The mighty army was no match for a defenseless people when God says, enough!
Because Pharaoh could not hear enough, Egypt must mourn again. The mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, and other family members left behind will remember this day as a day of loss and sadness. There will be no battle hymns written or remembrance written in the annals of the kings. It will be as if all of this never happened because it did not fit with imperial myths of superpower.
There is a Hebrew Midrash that talks about a conversation that God has with the angels on this day. When the angels ask to break out in song God says no. God says no because on that day his creatures died. It was an important reminder that this national tragedy of Egypt did not have to happen or even go this far. It is a reminder that with all the chariots in the land nothing will compensate for a leader or a people who are not able to be self-reflective. Bigger chariots will only lead to greater loss, mourning, and more hubris.
I do not make one to one comparisons. This passage is not a prophetic oracle to the events of ten years ago. That would be wrong and insult to the thousands of men and women who died. It would also run the risk of turning Osama Bin Laden into Moses when in reality he is just another pharaoh who uses myth and religion and his enormous wealth for his own hubris. Instead, I see it as a reminder of what can happen when we refuse to face our pain.
I remember where I was ten years ago. I remember going to church that night and I remember the words of our leaders. Everywhere I went people were ignoring their pain and looking for someone to kill. When Egypt lost its children Pharaoh too could not face the pain very long. Someone had to die. Unfortunately, it was more of his own people. I know the danger that exists in this world is real but there is also the natural human need for simplicity and cathartic killing. Unless we hear the prophetic voice of these our sacred texts we will not be able to tell the difference. More will die and more will mourn.
As people who were attacked on that day, it is right to feel pain and anger and want to get even. That makes us human. If we didn’t have those feelings there would be something wrong. But as Christians we are called to look into the face of Jesus and ask some hard questions. Reflexive responses are not our calling and they are not our way. Let us remember this day the deaths of so many on that day and the deaths that continue even now. Let us never forget so that we will not make the mistakes of Egypt and sacrifice any more of our children on the altar of greed or hubris. Amen.
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
Community Ethics
WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
September 4, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Matthew 18:15-20; Romans 13:8-10
“Community Ethics”
Communion Meditation
When it comes to morality and the church it seems that there are basically three approaches. However, the first two are the most common. The first one is fairly basic. The rules for conduct are clear and any breach of those rules requires discipline and removal. The second style is a community where the rules are much less clear.
In this second type of community, the rules are communicated in less direct ways. You have to guess at the rules of conduct. You learn the rules by breaking them unintentionally. The discipline often comes through silent exclusion. This discipline, like the rules are difficult to discern. What usually happens is that the one who breaks the rules is left to guess at what happened. Eventually the transgressor will simply drift away from the community once the love has been quietly withdrawn.
I am convinced that these two forms are representative of most churches whether liberal or conservative. They message is the same – do things our way or you are not welcome here. I am also sure that this type of community discipline and control was not unfamiliar in the early church. As they sought to sort out Jew and Gentile the easiest thing to do was to turn cultural expectations into divine mandates from God. Fortunately, Jesus expects more from his followers than they expect of themselves.
Jesus’ teaching about community rules and reconciliation came when he was responding to the disciples’ question about which one of them was the greatest. Because of our human need to exert dominance over other people and compare ourselves as greater or lesser than our neighbor, Jesus had to speak. When this impulse gets too strong we are bound to hurt someone else. The reality of life in community is that we are going to be in conflict at some point. This is why Jesus lays out a very detailed plan.
This is unique since most of Jesus’ teaching is not this direct. The first step is to go directly to the person with which you have an issue. How many late night phone calls or parking lot conversations would have been saved in doing this? Notice that this is intended to be an empowering action. It does not matter whether the person is rich, white and has power; Jesus says any member in the community has the authority to hold them accountable. No one needs to, “remember their station.”
What happens if the person does not listen? Step two is to take one or two people with you so there will be no hearsay or church gossip. But the ethic remains the same. Deal directly with the person and seek reconciliation. The goal is not to get even, make them pay or to get your own way. The goal is for the person to admit their wrongdoing which can make forgiveness and reconciliation possible.
So what happens if the person still will not listen? Then it is time to bring in the whole community. While this can seem heavy handed, it shows that an issue between two members of the community can impact the whole community. How often has private matters between two members had implications for the whole community? We have seen it happen here. It happens everywhere.
So what happens when all this does not work? What if reconciliation does not happen? Is it finally time to shun and remove? Not quite; in fact, not at all. “Treat them as Gentiles and Tax Collectors.” Jesus does not say, ‘There comes a time when you have to cut your losses.” Instead, he says we are still called to love. After all, Jesus spent a lot of time with tax collectors and gentiles. He spent his life telling them to come and follow. They are to be treated as neighbors, not enemies. If reconciliation is not possible the best we can hope for is to treat our estranged neighbor with love.
But how are we to love our neighbors? The commandment begins with: love your neighbor as yourselves. But what if you do not think all that highly of yourself? What if, deep down, you do not feel worthy of love? Then, the way you treat your neighbor will reflect this. If you look at the world through purely critical eyes, it is probably because you find yourself so worthy of critique. People who harbor self hatred are incapable of truly loving their neighbors freely and without manipulation. And, this is why reconciliation is not always possible. Love yourself. After all, if God loves you, why would you question that?
While love of neighbor does begin with love of self, it does not end there. This is because treating others the way you want to be treated assumes everyone thinks, acts, and believes like you do. The most loving thing to do is to treat someone the way they want to be treated. And, in a community of diversity, this is a critical mistake most of us are susceptible of making.
Because Westminster is a community which seeks to witness to the beloved community we can no longer be content with our homogeneous enclaves. We will not thrive if we are truly content with segregated Christian education and segregated close friendships. If this continues it will slowly erode what has been built. But, if we decide that God’s vision is worthy, we will forgo our personal preferences and comfort. We will seek out someone we do not know well each week. We will look for opportunities to create new ways of building this community. And, the reward for doing this will actually be an increase in conflict. Jesus knows this is the way it works. Anything worth doing is worth the struggle. This is why he presented a roadmap. The choice is between Westminster as a truly multiracial community and Westminster as a gathering of cliques who do not know one another but tolerate the differences. Amen!
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Who am I?
WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
August 28, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Exodus 3:1-15
“Who Am I?”
Who is he? Who is this man who stands on the mountain talking to a burning bush? By training, he is an aristocrat. Taught at the finest schools he understood the ways of empire. He was part of the society where leadership was simply expected. But he was also the son of slaves which created an identity crisis.
We know the whole story, but Moses comes to terms with his conflicting identity in some unsettling ways. We do not know the day or when he knew, but one day he was confronted by the fact he had a secret. Moses had passed as the grandson of Pharaoh and he did not even know the privileges which had come to him at the expense of his own people. And when he found out the secret kept from him, he had to know. He had to know who he was and from where he had come.
So on one fateful day he saw firsthand what life could have been like for him. He crossed the tracks and came face to face with his identity. It was too much. So he struck out against the injustice by killing a taskmaster. This action cost him all his privilege. Once he was a prince and now he is an outlaw, not even able to find refuge among his own people. So Moses goes into exile.
But on this day, facing the burning bush, his days as a prince and a radical were long behind him. In fact, it was a lifetime ago. By all accounts Moses is now an old man. So when he sees the burning bush he has no clue its light will lead him back to Egypt.
I like to imagine the inner thoughts of Moses as he speaks with God. Imagine the relief, the deep thankfulness when Moses learns that God has heard the suffering and seen the misery. Finally, after all these years Moses knows the struggles for freedom are over. God is going to intervene. And maybe, just maybe, the internal struggle over identity and privilege that has plagued Moses all these years will come to an end. Moses can die a happy man.
This all comes in a moment that seems like a rather holy scene. Sandals are removed. There is a holy light. And, it all comes with the voice of God. It is a sight that could bring peace to our trouble souls. God hears the cries of those who suffer and God is going to act. That is welcome news for anyone who has struggled for justice. Now that God has things under control we can go back to tending our sheep and focusing on ourselves.
It is a powerful picture except for one small detail. The story is not finished. There is one small detail we have forgotten. God says, “So come, I will send YOU to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” While this passage comes all at once without a pause I like to believe there is just enough of a pause for Moses to move from joy at God’s action to dread that he is the one God has chosen. It turns out that the savior Moses was waiting for all along… was himself. Like the saying goes, it turns out that, “We are the ones we have been waiting for.”
God comes to Moses and shows him a future beyond the present suffering and slavery. And after receiving this powerful vision and calling, all Moses can say is, “Who am I?” It is at this point that the excuses begin to come. I am too old! My days as a leader are over. I can’t because of this… or that… or the other… “Who am I?”
God’s response is simple. It really is not about you and your skills. “I will be with you.” God says. I’ve got your back and that is all you need to know. It is a strange promise because the sign that Moses will receive that God is with him comes when everything is over. You will know I was with you when you get back here to this mountain. No promise of signs along the way. There will be no progress reports on God’s presence. God does not promise comfort or personal fulfillment or a life of ease. And with the promise of “I will be with you,” Moses protests further. What if these people don’t accept me? Once again, God makes it clear, it’s not about you. Tell them the story of Abraham and Sarah. Tell them I am the God who Joseph said would come back. It is clear that when God calls people to service it really is not about them.
This is a strange story to our modern sensibilities. God may choose you to serve because your gifts and skills match with the needs. However, if the bible is any indication of the way God works, calling to service often comes despite our inability and lack of skills. Who we are matters only in our willingness to say yes. “Who am I?” is no excuse for skipping out on the life of discipleship. Moses’ age, location, desires, and skills do not matter when God says, I am sending you.
In many ways, this is our story. We have not been called to liberate slaves from the empire, but we have been called to live out the vision of the beloved community in this place. We have been called to do this in one of the most segregated cities in our nation. Like Moses we are called to cross boundaries and speak to people we have been taught are not like us and might even want to do us harm. But we say, “Who are we?” And God says, “It is not about us and our skills, or our numbers, or our money.” God says, I need disciples and we say, “Who are we?” God is calling us to deeper faithfulness as disciples. God is calling us to be disciples and make disciples for just such a time as this.
And just like Moses we will respond, “who am I?” Who are we? We are all prone to this same response. I have my own “who am I?” What is yours? What is your “Who am I?” story? Is it that you think you are too old? Moses was in his eighties when he started this journey. Or maybe it is something else that is holding you back. What is your “Who am I?” What is it that is keeping you from deeper discipleship? Well, let me make clear what I mean when we talk about discipleship. It really is pretty simple to remember. The life of discipleship can be boiled down to three areas: Worship, Study, and Service. Each needs nurturing if we are to live faithfully as Jesus’ followers.
“Who am I?” will stand in the way if we let it. Westminster is moving forward toward this vision of the beloved community. There is no going back or stopping where we are or congratulating ourselves for where we are. We are just getting started. And, in order to make this journey we will need to remember that is not about us. “Who am I?” isn’t the issue. God says, “I will go with you.” You will not be alone. This is no joke friends. People are starving for the vision we have been shown. If not us, then who? If not now, then when? Who am I? Who are we? The good news is that it doesn’t matter… we have been called. Amen? Amen!
August 28, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Exodus 3:1-15
“Who Am I?”
Who is he? Who is this man who stands on the mountain talking to a burning bush? By training, he is an aristocrat. Taught at the finest schools he understood the ways of empire. He was part of the society where leadership was simply expected. But he was also the son of slaves which created an identity crisis.
We know the whole story, but Moses comes to terms with his conflicting identity in some unsettling ways. We do not know the day or when he knew, but one day he was confronted by the fact he had a secret. Moses had passed as the grandson of Pharaoh and he did not even know the privileges which had come to him at the expense of his own people. And when he found out the secret kept from him, he had to know. He had to know who he was and from where he had come.
So on one fateful day he saw firsthand what life could have been like for him. He crossed the tracks and came face to face with his identity. It was too much. So he struck out against the injustice by killing a taskmaster. This action cost him all his privilege. Once he was a prince and now he is an outlaw, not even able to find refuge among his own people. So Moses goes into exile.
But on this day, facing the burning bush, his days as a prince and a radical were long behind him. In fact, it was a lifetime ago. By all accounts Moses is now an old man. So when he sees the burning bush he has no clue its light will lead him back to Egypt.
I like to imagine the inner thoughts of Moses as he speaks with God. Imagine the relief, the deep thankfulness when Moses learns that God has heard the suffering and seen the misery. Finally, after all these years Moses knows the struggles for freedom are over. God is going to intervene. And maybe, just maybe, the internal struggle over identity and privilege that has plagued Moses all these years will come to an end. Moses can die a happy man.
This all comes in a moment that seems like a rather holy scene. Sandals are removed. There is a holy light. And, it all comes with the voice of God. It is a sight that could bring peace to our trouble souls. God hears the cries of those who suffer and God is going to act. That is welcome news for anyone who has struggled for justice. Now that God has things under control we can go back to tending our sheep and focusing on ourselves.
It is a powerful picture except for one small detail. The story is not finished. There is one small detail we have forgotten. God says, “So come, I will send YOU to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” While this passage comes all at once without a pause I like to believe there is just enough of a pause for Moses to move from joy at God’s action to dread that he is the one God has chosen. It turns out that the savior Moses was waiting for all along… was himself. Like the saying goes, it turns out that, “We are the ones we have been waiting for.”
God comes to Moses and shows him a future beyond the present suffering and slavery. And after receiving this powerful vision and calling, all Moses can say is, “Who am I?” It is at this point that the excuses begin to come. I am too old! My days as a leader are over. I can’t because of this… or that… or the other… “Who am I?”
God’s response is simple. It really is not about you and your skills. “I will be with you.” God says. I’ve got your back and that is all you need to know. It is a strange promise because the sign that Moses will receive that God is with him comes when everything is over. You will know I was with you when you get back here to this mountain. No promise of signs along the way. There will be no progress reports on God’s presence. God does not promise comfort or personal fulfillment or a life of ease. And with the promise of “I will be with you,” Moses protests further. What if these people don’t accept me? Once again, God makes it clear, it’s not about you. Tell them the story of Abraham and Sarah. Tell them I am the God who Joseph said would come back. It is clear that when God calls people to service it really is not about them.
This is a strange story to our modern sensibilities. God may choose you to serve because your gifts and skills match with the needs. However, if the bible is any indication of the way God works, calling to service often comes despite our inability and lack of skills. Who we are matters only in our willingness to say yes. “Who am I?” is no excuse for skipping out on the life of discipleship. Moses’ age, location, desires, and skills do not matter when God says, I am sending you.
In many ways, this is our story. We have not been called to liberate slaves from the empire, but we have been called to live out the vision of the beloved community in this place. We have been called to do this in one of the most segregated cities in our nation. Like Moses we are called to cross boundaries and speak to people we have been taught are not like us and might even want to do us harm. But we say, “Who are we?” And God says, “It is not about us and our skills, or our numbers, or our money.” God says, I need disciples and we say, “Who are we?” God is calling us to deeper faithfulness as disciples. God is calling us to be disciples and make disciples for just such a time as this.
And just like Moses we will respond, “who am I?” Who are we? We are all prone to this same response. I have my own “who am I?” What is yours? What is your “Who am I?” story? Is it that you think you are too old? Moses was in his eighties when he started this journey. Or maybe it is something else that is holding you back. What is your “Who am I?” What is it that is keeping you from deeper discipleship? Well, let me make clear what I mean when we talk about discipleship. It really is pretty simple to remember. The life of discipleship can be boiled down to three areas: Worship, Study, and Service. Each needs nurturing if we are to live faithfully as Jesus’ followers.
“Who am I?” will stand in the way if we let it. Westminster is moving forward toward this vision of the beloved community. There is no going back or stopping where we are or congratulating ourselves for where we are. We are just getting started. And, in order to make this journey we will need to remember that is not about us. “Who am I?” isn’t the issue. God says, “I will go with you.” You will not be alone. This is no joke friends. People are starving for the vision we have been shown. If not us, then who? If not now, then when? Who am I? Who are we? The good news is that it doesn’t matter… we have been called. Amen? Amen!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Faithful Living in Broken Systems
WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
August 21, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Exodus 1:8-2:10
“Faithful Living in Broken Systems”
Egypt was broken. Pharaoh’s greed knew no bounds. His appetite for power and control led to the demonization of the very labor force which kept the empire forging ahead. Blinded by greed and fear, Pharaoh began to unravel the social contract forged by previous generations. Joseph had helped to create the empire. By getting the Israelites to sell their land and finally themselves for food, Egypt had a built-in labor force. But having a whole race of people enslaved to build the empire was not enough. He wanted more.
Through the use of an elaborate propaganda machine, the magicians of Pharaoh went to work. These slaves were no longer a benign presence. Instead, they were waiting for the right moment to rise up, join our enemies, kill all the men, and take our Egyptian woman. As this myth worked its way through the Egyptian society, any policy of elimination and control, in the name of national security, could be put into effect. Or so Pharaoh thought.
The first stage in this new national security policy was through a couple of midwives. The king summons the two head midwives and orders the killing of all Hebrew boys. This order places the midwives in a difficult place. Shiprah and Puah are on the payroll of Pharaoh. Their livelihood is at stake if not their very lives. What are they to do? These two do what they have the power to do. Direct refusal will result in death. On top of this, if they are removed then Pharaoh may bring in someone else who might do the job Pharaoh demands. So as long as they work in this broken system they will work for justice.
Instead of breaking the law deliberately, they simply bring things to a halt through a work slowdown. If they are not there at the birth, they cannot be held responsible for killing on the birth stool. The midwives may have be there right after the birth, but late enough to give themselves plausible deniability. And what is the punishment for their illegal activity? They are not fired and God rewards them with families.
When Pharaoh cannot get the professionals to do his bidding, he turns to the population. By this time the myth that the Hebrews are a threat to national security is well known and internalized. So it is the duty of every Egyptian to seek out and destroy the baby boys who are Hebrews. If you see them, kill them. The life you save may be your own! But despite the best attempts to nationalize this policy, it turns out that not everyone falls for the propaganda of the powerful.
The first people to recognize the madness, the brokenness of this system are the midwives. Fortunately, they are not the only ones. I have heard what happens next as an anomaly, a once in a lifetime happening. It is as if Moses is the only baby miraculously saved from the systematic murder of children. A mother placed the child in a basket and was so distraught about what she was doing she sends her daughter to watch the child die by drowning in the river. But I do not think this is what is going on at all. Instead, I think we are watching a prime example of what people do when the systems meant to sustain us are broken. Let me explain.
I have come to believe that what we are watching was probably common, though the outcome was not always positive. Imagine if you will, a population stunned by the brutality of its government but unable to be openly defiant. What might happen? What if there were Egyptian people who did not buy the myth and wanted to make a difference in a broken system? Instead of becoming silent and distracting themselves, they formed networks of safe houses where Hebrew people could “leave” their baby boys. These homes would then raise the children as their own. Even though they could not change the policy, they could save the children. We might be seeing an ancient form of the Underground Railroad.
With this in mind, let us turn now to the story of Moses’ sister and the king’s daughter. What is miraculous about the story is to find out that even the daughter of the king is opposed to the policy. The risks to national security do seem so threatening when faced with the baby boy. The king’s daughter does not just stand against the policy she makes sure to pay the mother of the child for the privilege of nursing her own son. In return, this child has the protection of Pharaoh’s house. While it might not have been widespread, it was probably widespread enough to save more than a few Hebrew boys.
From the midwives, to the little Hebrew girl and even Pharaoh’s daughter, we have portraits of faithful living in broken systems. Instead of complaining or believing they had no power to make change, they stood up and figured out a way to make a difference. It is quite a contrast to the law abiding citizens who toss children into the river or the taskmasters who oversee the oppressive labor policies of the empire. At the end of the day, this story really is about us and for us. What do I mean?
Every age has its pharaohs, taskmasters, and citizens who hide behind the guise of, “I am just obeying the law,” even if the law is unjust. And every age has a daughter of pharaoh or midwives or young children who are unwilling to sit idly by as people suffer and die. And if we are honest with one another we can admit that our own systems are broken. Our own politicians use fear to maintain power and enrich themselves and those bankrolling their campaigns. The same question confronts us today as it did for those back in Egypt. Will we be agents of Pharaoh or will we seek to say no to the myths of our own age? Will we stop complaining and figure out ways to live faithfully in the broken systems of our time? This is the message of this passage. This is the message of our faith. Hope is not found out there. Hope is found when we can resist with all that we have. What system are you in that needs humanizing? Let this be your calling today. Find the courage and the power to bring life. Amen? Amen!
August 21, 2011
Rev. Mark R. Miller
Exodus 1:8-2:10
“Faithful Living in Broken Systems”
Egypt was broken. Pharaoh’s greed knew no bounds. His appetite for power and control led to the demonization of the very labor force which kept the empire forging ahead. Blinded by greed and fear, Pharaoh began to unravel the social contract forged by previous generations. Joseph had helped to create the empire. By getting the Israelites to sell their land and finally themselves for food, Egypt had a built-in labor force. But having a whole race of people enslaved to build the empire was not enough. He wanted more.
Through the use of an elaborate propaganda machine, the magicians of Pharaoh went to work. These slaves were no longer a benign presence. Instead, they were waiting for the right moment to rise up, join our enemies, kill all the men, and take our Egyptian woman. As this myth worked its way through the Egyptian society, any policy of elimination and control, in the name of national security, could be put into effect. Or so Pharaoh thought.
The first stage in this new national security policy was through a couple of midwives. The king summons the two head midwives and orders the killing of all Hebrew boys. This order places the midwives in a difficult place. Shiprah and Puah are on the payroll of Pharaoh. Their livelihood is at stake if not their very lives. What are they to do? These two do what they have the power to do. Direct refusal will result in death. On top of this, if they are removed then Pharaoh may bring in someone else who might do the job Pharaoh demands. So as long as they work in this broken system they will work for justice.
Instead of breaking the law deliberately, they simply bring things to a halt through a work slowdown. If they are not there at the birth, they cannot be held responsible for killing on the birth stool. The midwives may have be there right after the birth, but late enough to give themselves plausible deniability. And what is the punishment for their illegal activity? They are not fired and God rewards them with families.
When Pharaoh cannot get the professionals to do his bidding, he turns to the population. By this time the myth that the Hebrews are a threat to national security is well known and internalized. So it is the duty of every Egyptian to seek out and destroy the baby boys who are Hebrews. If you see them, kill them. The life you save may be your own! But despite the best attempts to nationalize this policy, it turns out that not everyone falls for the propaganda of the powerful.
The first people to recognize the madness, the brokenness of this system are the midwives. Fortunately, they are not the only ones. I have heard what happens next as an anomaly, a once in a lifetime happening. It is as if Moses is the only baby miraculously saved from the systematic murder of children. A mother placed the child in a basket and was so distraught about what she was doing she sends her daughter to watch the child die by drowning in the river. But I do not think this is what is going on at all. Instead, I think we are watching a prime example of what people do when the systems meant to sustain us are broken. Let me explain.
I have come to believe that what we are watching was probably common, though the outcome was not always positive. Imagine if you will, a population stunned by the brutality of its government but unable to be openly defiant. What might happen? What if there were Egyptian people who did not buy the myth and wanted to make a difference in a broken system? Instead of becoming silent and distracting themselves, they formed networks of safe houses where Hebrew people could “leave” their baby boys. These homes would then raise the children as their own. Even though they could not change the policy, they could save the children. We might be seeing an ancient form of the Underground Railroad.
With this in mind, let us turn now to the story of Moses’ sister and the king’s daughter. What is miraculous about the story is to find out that even the daughter of the king is opposed to the policy. The risks to national security do seem so threatening when faced with the baby boy. The king’s daughter does not just stand against the policy she makes sure to pay the mother of the child for the privilege of nursing her own son. In return, this child has the protection of Pharaoh’s house. While it might not have been widespread, it was probably widespread enough to save more than a few Hebrew boys.
From the midwives, to the little Hebrew girl and even Pharaoh’s daughter, we have portraits of faithful living in broken systems. Instead of complaining or believing they had no power to make change, they stood up and figured out a way to make a difference. It is quite a contrast to the law abiding citizens who toss children into the river or the taskmasters who oversee the oppressive labor policies of the empire. At the end of the day, this story really is about us and for us. What do I mean?
Every age has its pharaohs, taskmasters, and citizens who hide behind the guise of, “I am just obeying the law,” even if the law is unjust. And every age has a daughter of pharaoh or midwives or young children who are unwilling to sit idly by as people suffer and die. And if we are honest with one another we can admit that our own systems are broken. Our own politicians use fear to maintain power and enrich themselves and those bankrolling their campaigns. The same question confronts us today as it did for those back in Egypt. Will we be agents of Pharaoh or will we seek to say no to the myths of our own age? Will we stop complaining and figure out ways to live faithfully in the broken systems of our time? This is the message of this passage. This is the message of our faith. Hope is not found out there. Hope is found when we can resist with all that we have. What system are you in that needs humanizing? Let this be your calling today. Find the courage and the power to bring life. Amen? Amen!
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