Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost August 30, 2026 with The Rev. Javier Almendárez-Bautista

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be holy and pleasing in your sight, O Lord, O Rock and Redeemer.

Amen.

Verna Josephine Dozier loved literature from an early age.

This love was nurtured by her parents, Lana and Lucy.

Neither of them had a college education, not for lack of desire, mind you, but rather from a lack of opportunity, as was the case for many African American folk in Washington, D.C.

in the early 1900s, but they instilled in her a love for the written word nonetheless.

Born in 1917, Verna's childhood nighttime routine included reading out loud with her mother and sister.

They would either play different roles in one of William Shakespeare's plays, or they would take turns reading from the Bible.

Verna loved scripture.

She began her studies at Howard University at the age of 16, and it was there that she first crossed paths with the theologian and civil rights leader Howard Thurman, the dean of the University Chapel at the time.

He shaped her views on scripture, calling her to a deeper faith that didn't avoid the hard questions.

Over the years that would follow, Dozier earned a reputation as a Bible teacher and scholar within the Episcopal Church and beyond.

She never had any formal theological training, however.

She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees in English literature, both at Howard, and then she went on to a career as an educator and administrator in the DC public school system for 32 years.

In 1975, at the age of 57, she took an early retirement from her public school career.

It was then that she devoted herself to her ministry within the church.

Many congratulated her on beginning her ministry after retirement, but Dozier chafed at the implication behind such words.

In my unredeemed way, she once wrote, I would steal myself and reply through clenched teeth, No, I continued my ministry.

Dozier, you see, understood that her ministry had been there all along.

As a public school educator, she helped students in segregated schools at first and then in integrated ones to find and trust their own voice.

She continued her ministry as she helped church folk take ownership of their role within the story of the people of God.

The job description may have changed, but her call and vocation had not.

In Exodus today, we meet Moses at an inflection point.

This is a call story, and it requires Moses' full attention.

I must turn aside and look at this great site and see why the bush is not burned up.

You likely know Moses' story very well, but it might be good to back up a bit in the narrative here.

Moses is first and foremost a survivor, a Hebrew child plucked from the waters of the river Nile.

Pharaoh's daughter raises him as her own, and so this child of enslaved peoples becomes a prince of Egypt.

He does not remain a prince for long, however.

As a young man, he observes an Egyptian attacking a Hebrew slave.

He strikes the man down, and while he tries to cover it up, it does not remain a secret for long.

Soon thereafter, Moses is on the run, fleeing from the law and Pharaoh's presence into the land of Midian.

This is where we meet him today, having made a home for himself among the priest Jethro's family, tending to his flock.

In very short order, in the first two chapters of the book of Exodus, Moses has already been many things: a survivor, a prince, a refugee and outlaw, a stranger in a strange land, and now a simple shepherd tending to someone else's sheep.

This child plucked from the waters of the river Nile now makes his home in the dry desert wilderness.

And that could be the end of it.

That is enough life for one man to live.

But Moses' story isn't over yet.

The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob has other plans for this man.

And Moses, reluctant and afraid, is about to discover his true vocation.

Now, I know very few people who experience their call quite as clearly as Moses does.

Most of us don't get a burning bush in the wilderness outlining our career goals and clear step-by-step instructions.

When it comes to figuring out what on earth we are here to do, we don't get to peruse the owner's manual.

I believe it was sometime during my college years that I first heard Frederick Biegner's famous words on vocation.

The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet.

It's a lovely sentiment, the way it holds passion and service together, but it doesn't take one long to realize that equating calling with a career path is something of a privilege.

We live in a world where many, if not most, have never had the luxury of thinking of their labor in such lofty terms.

The church has done a poor job at articulating a vision of vocation uncoupled from our individual career choices.

Most often, when we do talk about vocation, we are referring to someone seeking ordained ministry, a professional path we often assume for those who like reading theology, wordsmithing sermons and prayers, and wearing fancy robes.

Not only is that a very limited vision of ordained ministry, I wish I had spent a bit more time in seminary learning how to draft a church budget, or how to run an effective vestry meeting, or what it looks like to develop a 10-year plan for the maintenance and care of a church building.

It is also a very limited vision of vocation.

Vocation, you see, isn't always a career path.

Vocation is a disposition, an orientation toward the world around us and the people we come across.

Yes, it is ideal when our vocation and what we do for a living meet.

But vocation is also so much more than a day job.

Every Christian, no matter what their career path, is called to ministry, doing justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with God.

And it is our job as the people of God not to discover the one thing in life we must do to be fulfilled, but to see in every life, in every place and in every circumstance an opportunity to proclaim the good news.

Now, allow me to return to Moses on the Holy Mountain, as he is about to receive some truly disturbing, life-changing news.

I feel for the guy.

We know how this story turns out, but the truth is he does not have a stellar resume.

Later on in the passage, he raises his best arguments against what is about to happen to him.

Please, Lord, Moses pleads in one translation.

I have never been eloquent, neither recently nor in the past, for I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.

The Lord will have none of it.

And when Moses reveals his doubts, who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?

The Lord responds, not with assurances about Moses' unique gifts and skills, not with revelations about his hidden talents and attributes, but with a statement about the one who sends him.

I will be with you, says the Lord.

And 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.

Let us put our trust in the one who sends us, and let us go out to share the good news.

Amen.