Wherever you go, there you are.

Speaking of that, I have a disclaimer.

So as I was preparing the sermon this week, I was reflecting on what I think is kind of the universal experience of shame and insecurity.

And then I had this epiphany.

I was like, these people don't understand that.

The people in our church, they don't have any of that stuff.

These are beautiful, perfect people who have no inadequacies, have never made mistakes.

They aren't going to relate to any of this.

But it was too late for me to change directions in the sermon, and I didn't want to write a new one.

And so I so just know that when I say something about people being flawed, I don't mean you.

I mean the person next to you.

You know, as I mentioned in the worship teaser video earlier this week, the story of Moses and the burning bush is one of those Bible stories that is ubiquitous, right?

Even if you've never read the Bible or attended Sunday school, you probably know at least the gist of the story.

So when someone says something like, I just need a burning bush to tell me what to do, most people get the reference.

But as I've said before about these similar Bible stories, when something is so well known, we tend to skip past the details and we miss hearing something new in it.

And so over the last several weeks, as I've been reading and rereading this story, what has jumped out to me has not been the obvious parts, the burning bush or God speaking directly to Moses.

Instead, I've been pondering how Moses is confronted with his own sense of self.

And this awkward name, God declares.

So let's back up and take a running start at this story to see what we might miss otherwise.

The Israelites are living as slaves in Egypt.

And they're growing in number, so much so that Pharaoh is worried that they will rise up against him.

And so he declares that every male newborn must be thrown in the Nile River.

And when Moses is born, his mother cleverly gets around this law by waterproofing a basket, placing her baby in it, and floating it on the river so he wouldn't drown.

And the basket made its way down the river, and Pharaoh's daughter was by the riverbank and found this basket with the baby, takes the baby in to raise as her own.

And in a fortuitous happenstance, she hires Moses' mother to be the baby's nurse and nanny.

And so Moses, an Israelite, is raised with a life of privilege as a member of Pharaoh's household.

And it makes me wonder if Moses struggled with his identity as part of the oppressed Hebrew people, but with living with all that privilege and protection.

Did these two parts of his identity wrestle within him?

And if so, we see this tension boil over when he witnesses an Egyptian taskmaster beating a Hebrew slave.

Moses' loyalty to his people wins out and he ends up killing the taskmaster.

And this causes him to have to live on the run as a fugitive.

He flees to another country where he marries and settles into the simple life of tending the flock of his father-in-law.

This is where we find him today.

Alone in the wilderness tending livestock that aren't his own, haunted by his greatest mistake of committing murder.

Perhaps also never having settled his own identity as a Hebrew or a member of Pharaoh's house.

Not only was he on the run from the Egyptians, but I wonder if he's running from himself.

Trying to escape all the parts of himself that cause him the most shame and insecurity.

I wonder if you've ever been there.

Maybe not wanted for murder, but trying to escape your mistakes.

Or all the parts of you that you try to keep hidden.

Things too shameful to tell anyone or even admit to yourself.

Sorry, I know you all have none of those things, but I suspect the person next to you might.

They might have parts of themselves they don't want anyone to see, much less face themselves.

The failure, the divorce, the bankruptcy, the choices of career over family, the friend you've betrayed, the job loss, the wreck, the DWI, the parent you couldn't please, or the child you let down, whatever.

There are things we keep hidden and try to run from.

But you know that old saying.

Wherever you go, there you are.

All that stuff lives in us.

We can't run far enough or fast enough to escape it.

I think this is where Moses is when God appears to him in this burning bush.

A bush that was on fire but not consumed by it.

This is the part of the story we know so well.

Moses looks away as to not direct, look directly at God.

And God tells Moses to remove his sandals because he's standing on holy ground.

And God tells Moses he's heard the cry of the Israelites and wants him to set them free.

And so he's sending Moses to go confront Pharaoh and demand their release.

Again, we see Moses' inner struggle.

He says, Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and set the Israelites free?

In other words, I don't think Pharaoh's gonna listen to me.

He wants me dead.

Remember, they have a warrant out on me.

Again, Moses sees his whole life as his mistakes.

And he asks, and what authority do I have with the Israelites?

They aren't gonna listen to me.

They won't accept me.

They're going to call me a spoiled rich kid, a trust fund Nepo baby.

And later in the story, he starts listing his inadequacies.

He says, and I don't even talk good.

How am I supposed to convince Pharaoh and lead people?

Moses can only see himself as his shame and inadequacies and insecurities.

No, I forgot.

I need to explain what those are to those of you who've never experienced them.

Shame is this painful internal belief that we are inherently flawed and inadequate.

Shame is more than thinking we did something wrong, but that we are wrong and bad.

That our mistakes are because we are inherently flawed and irredeemable.

Shame goes so deep as to convince us that we are unworthy of love.

And it's not just mistakes we've made, but also things we've been told about ourselves that aren't true.

Or the things we've told ourselves that aren't true.

I'm not a size two, so I'm fat.

I'm not a good student, so I'm stupid.

I have a short fuse, so I'm not kind.

I got a divorce, so I'm miserable to live with.

I don't make a million dollars, so I'm not worth much.

I am sick, so I'm a drain on people.

We define ourselves by our shame.

It's this false sense that it's the totality of who we are.

Moses has been hiding and running from his shame.

And it all catches up with him right there in the wilderness on Mount Horeb.

And so he rattles it all off to God.

I mean, it doesn't say this, but I imagine God's response is.

Yeah, I know.

So anyway, I want you to set up this meeting with Pharaoh.

It's not that God doesn't see our flaws or know our mistakes, or that God doesn't care.

But God just sees beyond them.

God meets us where we are to love us as we are.

And God calls us to more than this.

God meets us in the wilderness of our shame and inadequacy and says, I know who you are.

I know what you've been through.

I know what you've done.

And I may not like all of it, but it doesn't make me love you any less.

Because I also know that there is more to you than all of that.

Moses, wherever you go, there you are.

But wherever you go, I am there too.

Moses, you are who you are.

But I am who I am.

In fact, that's the name that God chooses to be called.

Moses says, okay, supposing I do this and I go to the Israelites and I say, the God of our ancestors has sent me to you, and they ask, what's his name?

What am I supposed to say?

And God says, I am who I am.

Tell them, I am, has sent me to you.

It's a simple proclamation of existence.

I am.

I exist.

I'm here.

But it's a little awkward to say.

It doesn't roll off the tongue.

I am has sent me to you.

I am has heard your cries.

Yet for Moses to use this name for God means he has to use I language.

As if to say something about God is also to affirm something about himself.

To call God I am means the fullness of who we are is founded God.

We find our being in God's grace.

This grace that loves us as we are and offers us so much more.

Wherever you go, I am who I am.

As this story's been tumbling around in my soul this week, I began to jot down a litany.

Something for us to share together.

And as it kind of formed on the page, I realized it was half prayer of confession and half affirmation.

But in God's grace, how do you tell the difference?

And so will you join me as we confess who we are, but also affirm who we are in this grace?

It's on the bulletin that you were handed, or it's on the screen.

Will you share that with me?

I am a child of God.

I am flawed.

I am enough.

I am lonely.

I am fulfilled.

I am fearful, I am brave.

I am funny, I am annoying.

I am apathetic, I am driven.

I am joyful, I am angry.

I am lighthearted, I am serious.

I am dense, I am quick-witted.

I am energetic, I am exhausted.

I am predictable, I am full of surprises.

I am just, I am unfair.

I am grieving, I am rejoicing.

I am who I am.

Wherever I go, whatever I do, whomever I encounter, I am held by the I am.

Amen.