Sermon: Here I Am Lord

Well, our scripture reading today is from Exodus chapter 3, verses 1 to 12.

Exodus 3:1–12

I invite you to hear now this word of the Lord.

Moses was taking care of the flock for his father-in-law, Jethro, Midian's priest.

He led his flock out to the edge of the desert, and he came to God's mountain called Horeb.

The Lord's messenger appeared to him in a flame of fire in the middle of a bush.

Moses saw that the bush was in flames, but it didn't burn up.

Then Moses said to himself, Let me check out this amazing sight and find out why the bush isn't burning up.

When the Lord saw that he was coming to look, God called to him out of the bush.

Moses, Moses.

Moses said, I'm here.

Then the Lord said, Don't come any closer.

Take off your sandals, because you are standing on holy ground.

He continued, I am the God of your father, Abraham's God, Isaac's God, and Jacob's God.

Moses hid his face because he was afraid to look at God.

Then the Lord said, I've clearly seen my people oppressed in Egypt.

I've heard their cry of injustice because of their slave masters.

I know about their pain.

I've come down to rescue them from the Egyptians, in order to take them out of that land and bring them to a good and broad land, a land that's full of milk and honey, a place where the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites all live.

Now the Israelites' cries of injustice have reached me.

I've seen just how much the Egyptians have oppressed them.

So get going.

I'm sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.

But Moses said to God, Who am I to go to Pharaoh and to bring the Israelites out of Egypt?

God said, I'll be with you.

And this will show you that I'm the one who sent you.

And after you bring the people out of Egypt, you will come back here and worship God on this mountain.

This is the word of God for us, the people of God.

Let us pray.

Oh Lord, we ask that you would open our hearts and minds to hear you speaking to us this morning.

That just as Moses heard your voice in the burning bush, might we hear your voice in this story of calling?

Might we trust that you are calling each of us by name and that you will help us fulfill whatever calling you have placed on our lives.

In Christ's name we pray.

Amen.

So during the United Methodist ordination process, potential pastors have to write lots of papers.

They have to answer lots of questions about their calling and about theology and about their practice of ministry.

And one of the questions that I wrestled with the most was the question in which you have to describe your calling alongside one of the calling stories of the Bible.

Which calling story in the Bible resonates with you the most?

I eventually chose Jonah because, like the prophet Jonah, I wanted nothing to do with my calling for many years.

But as I sat down to write my response to that question on the ordination papers, I thought longingly about Moses and about his call story because I wished mine was a lot more like his.

I love this call story in Moses.

I'm envious of Moses' call story because of how clear God is with Moses.

First off, it's clear to Moses that he is stepping into a holy moment, one in which God is speaking directly to him.

He's got this burning bush and this angel and this voice coming out of the bush.

And I don't know about you, but I can think of many times throughout my calling story, throughout my life, when I have been wrestling with what God is asking me to do, and I just want God to send some like clear, unmistakable epistle from heaven, right?

Some very direct sign, so I know exactly what I'm meant to do.

I never stumbled upon a burning bush, but Moses did.

And as soon as he saw this bush that was alight with flames but not being consumed, he decided he needed to get closer to investigate.

And that's when God's voice spoke to him from within the bush.

God called Moses by name.

Moses.

Moses.

It was unmistakable in that moment that God was summoning him.

Not just any passerby who happened to be in that forgotten corner of the wilderness, but Moses himself.

God was summoning.

And then God was very clear with Moses about who God is.

I am the God of your ancestors, of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob.

I am the God who cares about my people's suffering and the injustices they are enduring as slaves in Egypt.

I am the God who will do something about it.

And then God was very clear with what he was calling Moses to do.

Get going, God told Moses.

I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.

I mean, you can't get much clearer than this.

As an aspiring pastor, I envied Moses's call story.

I longed for such clarity from God.

Maybe you can relate.

My experience with calling has always been a bit different from Moses.

And I have served on several different committees within the United Methodist Church, where we interview potential pastors and hear their call stories.

And what I've learned is that everyone's experience with calling is a bit different.

And also, let me remind you, it's not just pastors who experience calls from God.

All of us do.

Whether you recognize it today or not, God is calling you to use your unique gifts and talents and experience to make some kind of difference for the kingdom of God.

This story in which Moses is called is not just a story for pastors to reflect on, it's a story for all of us to reflect on because all of us have a calling in this season of our life.

And for each of us, this experience of calling is different.

Krista shared what her calling has felt like from people reaching out to her.

For me, God's calling has usually been gradual and dare I say, annoying.

Because God would not let it go.

My experience with calling came very early in my life when I was about 12.

I was at a youth retreat and there was a pastor there who was telling about her own story of calling in the ministry and talking about what pastoral ministry looked like.

And the whole time she talked, there was this burning deep within me, a sense of rightness and a longing, an idea that perhaps this was my intended future.

And for years after that moment, I wondered about it.

Did I make it up?

I hated the idea of public speaking, so surely God wouldn't call me to be a pastor, right?

Who was I to speak for God, anyways?

Was this real?

It took 13 more years of that fire burning within me, that burning bush in my soul, before the way to answer the call was finally made plain.

Before I could confidently say, as Moses did, here I am, Lord.

Moses said it right away.

Moses, Moses, God called, and Moses said, Here I am.

He was ready to do whatever God commanded until he heard what God wanted him to do.

It's important to remember Moses' backstory.

Before Moses was born, the Pharaoh of the Egyptian people had enslaved the Hebrew people.

And over the years of their enslavement, he treated them so terribly, and yet they continued to multiply.

They were a strong and mighty people, and the Pharaoh was afraid of them.

So the Pharaoh eventually commanded that every baby boy born to a Hebrew family needed to be killed at birth.

Moses was born under this decree, but his parents hid him away for three months, seeking a way to save his life.

And eventually his mother took a basket and sealed it and put the baby in it and sent it down the river to Pharaoh's household, where Pharaoh's daughter found him and rescued him and adopted him.

And Moses grew up as a royal Hebrew in a land where his people were enslaved and suffering.

So one day, once Moses had grown up, he saw an Egyptian ferociously beating a Hebrew slave.

And Moses' anger was stirred so hot within him that he killed the Egyptian man and then had to flee for his life because of this act of murder.

So Moses fled, Pharaoh's household, he went into the wilderness, he met up with a bunch of shepherds.

There he settled down, got married, and tried to forget about his old life.

That is, until God met him in the wilderness, in a burning bush, and told him to get going, to go back and demand the release of his people.

So you can imagine why Moses was not so sure about this calling.

He was terrified.

Who am I?

He asked.

He was a fugitive wanted for murder.

He insisted that he was not good at public speaking.

He complained to God that he had a slow mouth and a thick tongue.

He complained that Pharaoh would surely not listen to him.

He begged God to send somebody else, anybody else.

But each time Moses insisted that he was not the right man for the job, God doubled down.

God insisted that God would be with Moses, that God would give Moses everything he needed to answer this call.

Every call story is different, but this moment is shared with all of them.

For once we hear that call of God, however it may come to us, we recognize that we're not worthy of that calling.

Nobody feels ready.

Nobody feels capable.

Nobody feels prepared when God calls.

But the story of calling that is consistent through the scriptures is this God doesn't call the equipped, God equips the called.

Perhaps God is calling you to step into a new leadership role or to be more active in a particular ministry that you have a burning for in your heart.

Perhaps God is calling you to use your gifts in a way that scares you, like to join a music ensemble, or to volunteer with a partner organization serving people in need in our community.

Perhaps God is calling you to step out and make some new friends or join a new small group or invest in new relationships.

Perhaps God is calling you into ministry.

However, God is calling you in this season of your life, it's likely that you, like Moses, will find lots of reasons to protest.

You'll find lots of reasons to say, go find someone else, God.

Maybe you don't have the time, maybe you don't have the energy, maybe your health isn't what you want it to be, maybe you don't think you have what it takes, the skills, the training.

Maybe you're just not good enough to answer the call.

And if this sounds familiar to you, then trust me, you are in good company.

You are in company with Moses and Samuel, David, and Mary.

You are in company with faithful people in all generations who have bravely said, Here I am Lord.

And it wasn't extraordinary courage that made Moses say yes to God's call.

In the end, it was faith.

It was believing that God doesn't call the equipped, rather, God equips the called.

And so today I urge you on this kickoff Sunday, as we are launching into a new program year, to take the 5,000-foot view and listen for God's call.

Maybe pay attention to the burning in your heart.

Maybe have the courage to walk a little closer to the burning bushes around you, pointing you into service.

God is calling you, and the question that you need to ask yourself is this What does God's calling feel like today?

That's the question that I often get.

How do I know when I'm being called by God?

How do I know what it feels like?

How do I know it's real?

I'd like to close with a poem I wrote several years ago, reflecting on my own calling, beginning with how annoyed I was by it, ending with accepting it and saying yes to God's call.

And as I read this reflection, I invite you to think about where you are in your journey of call.

However, God is calling you today.

Are you scared?

Are you annoyed?

Are you ready to say yes?

May you find yourself in this and have the courage to trust that God doesn't just call the equipped, God equips the called.

So here is the poem.

It's entitled, You Ask Me What a Calling Feels Like.

It's irritating.

A calling will sound like the beep, beep, beep, beep you faintly hear in your sleep drowsied dreams.

At first, you will be dimly aware of its alarming persistence until slowly, slowly, maybe then with a start, you'll curse the break of day.

That is to say, it's unpleasant, a calling, like a fly, buzzing around in reckless circles, and you can't predict when it'll laser blasted way again.

It's wild like that, a calling, unpredictable, supremely swattable.

It keeps you on edge, flitting by your periphery, loitering under your nose.

It whispers too close for comfort.

But it will make itself comfortable one day.

Like a charming, mysterious friend.

When it saunters by, you'll pour it a drink, hoping to coax it into staying at least long enough to spill where it's been, what it's doing, where you fit in.

Why do you keep coming back?

You'll ask, chin cupped in your hand, pulse racing, heart hiding, playing at koy.

To me, that's when a calling moves in.

Not as a roommate or a dependent or a friend.

No, a calling moves in as your shadow.

Or maybe you are its shadow, it's hard to say.

Where it goes, where you go, it goes, and sometimes it's there before you, waltzing off the well-marked path while you trail its ethereal dizzying dance.

It's addictive, strangely enough, to follow it into the unknown, to watch it fade and flow, ebbed one moment and wait for it.

Enormous the next.

It's intoxicating, knowing it belongs to you as much as you belong to it.

Just wait.

Soon, a calling will sound like the thump thump thump thump of your own heart, the whoosh of your lungs, the silent longings of your secret soul.

That is to say, it's bliss, a calling.

Like searching the world for an elusive treasure, only to return and find it's been there all along, at home, within you.

In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Amen.